Nothing evil slithered across her path, and her thoughts slipped back to the flame-eyed demon who put her on a rooftop.
It’d been two nights since they crossed paths, and her irritation didn’t subside.
Keep her safe?
As if she needed his darn help!
The urge to seek her reprisal grew every time she thought of him. More, she hated that she thought of him at all.
Scowling, Ely pivoted and made her way back toward the main street. A chilly breeze picked up as she neared a garage, and she slowed her steps, an odd sensation creeping through her. A whiff of acrid, sulfuric air stung her nose—
She quickly scanned the quiet street for the curs from the Dark Realm, and her gaze latched onto a lone figure further down, and her heart pounded.
Him.
She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him, and there he was, reading something on his cell.
After what Michael had revealed, she wanted answers before seeking retribution for feeding on a human, and for getting in her way.
In preternatural speed, she blurred across, her Gaian weapon summoned. He pivoted like an unleashed whip, body primed for attack. Ely didn’t expect any less, and she braced her staff.
“Guardian.” One corner of his lips quirked in a ghost of a smile as he slipped his cell into his pocket. “Keeping tabs on me, hmm?” He circled her like some wily predator, forcing her to counter. He angled his head, eyes gleaming as he watched her.
Mouth thinned, Ely matched his moves. As mad as she was, she couldn’t shake off the sense of familiarity, as if she should know him. Ugh. Maybe it was because she’d already met him, and he riled her like no one else ever had. At least they were now in an alley and away from human eyes.
“We can do this dance all night long,laika,” he teased, his gaze skimming her face in a caress so visceral, Ely faltered a step. “Or, we could cut to the chase, and you can tell me you want me.”
“The only thing I want is my weapon between your ribs, in that organ you call a heart, demon!” She lunged, staff spinning.
Chuckling, still weaponless, he catapulted over her head, landing on her other side, hiking her ire, his light laughter sending a flood of goosebumps down her arms. Ely spun around.
“Such violent foreplay,laika. Can’t wait.”
Urias! She hated the oaf! Furious, she snapped her staff in two, the pointed ends lengthening and morphing into glowing glaives.
“Well, now.” He smiled, eyeing her deadly weapons. “I can’t let you kill me,laika, so you understand why I must defend myself, yes? Good,” he answered his own question, two swords appearing in his hands.
She didn’t mind the weapons. Hell, she welcomed them, but the burning frustration sweeping through her erupted at the taunting smirk playing on his lips like she was a pesky little fly to his spider.
Tired of being treated like some weak female, a growl broke free, and she flew at him, her weapons arching high and low. He countered her strikes, the clash of metals resounding in the dark alley.
Then she cursed. Dammit! He was playing her, merely blocking her hits as they fought. His smile grew. “What’s wrong,laika?”
Jaw clenched, she blurred forward, her form as insubstantial as the shadows she commanded, and she hurled her glaives at him, one after the other. He deflected the strikes. She summoned her obsidian dagger and flung it—
“Damn,” he grunted, staggering back a step, both his swords falling to the asphalt in a clatter. He glanced down at part of the weapon embedded in his gut.
Ely gaped, shocked at her direct hit, her chest heaving.
His mouth twisted, whether from pain or to mock her, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t expect it to be so easy.
That’s because he wasn’t trying to hurt you.
He grasped the weapon and tugged. “Well,laika—” He held up his palms, fingers spread and bloodied. “It seems I’m fated to die by your hands. Go on then, finish me.”
Her stomach rolled. Ely gulped in lungfuls of air, her gaze fixed on his plasma-smeared palms.
“Why are you waiting?” he baited. “To see me disintegrate into dust and be sucked into Purgatory?”
