“Let them learn it once, Captain,” Sallie said with his own grin. “They’ll never forget it thereafter.”
“Duly noted.” Bart cleared his throat as he respectfully gave Sallie a bit more room to maneuver. “One more thing, Captain … any pointers on how we’re to win this?”
“Don’t die. Be the last man standing.”
“Good to know. Pointers on how to kill them, then?”
“Cut off the head. If that doesn’t work? Run like hell, preferably faster than the poor bloke beside you. Might want to consider tripping him if he proves to be faster.”
“Beautiful. I so look forward to these deep, meaningful discussions and motivational speeches from you that leave me bullocks completely shrunk and shriveled.”
Laughing, Devyl lowered his visor for battle. “Better the bullocks than the brains. And better both than your courage.”
Bart snorted. “Not sure about that. Especially given what’s coming at us.” He saluted Devyl with his sword. “In case I go down and forget to say it … been an honor serving with you, sir.”
“And with you, Mr. Meers. Here’s to taking them before they take us, and if they do, making sure they join us for the descent into hell.”
“Amen, coz. Amen.” And with that, he left Devyl to head straight into the fray.
As Devyl started forward, a foreign chill went up his spine. He turned to see if it was Zumari, but the man was already embroiled in a fierce fight. For a moment, he thought it might be Vine.
Until a shadow on his left moved.
Now that was all kinds of peculiar. Scowling, he braced himself for an assault.
Instead, the shadow came to wrap around him and whisper in his ear with a soft, feminine lilt. “Thorn has sent me with a gift for you. He wants you to know that he hasn’t abandoned you, but will be here as soon as he’s able.” With those words spoken, she pressed something into his palm.
Then, as suddenly as she’d appeared, she was gone with nothing more than a mere breezy kiss across his flesh that was fully covered by his armor.
His scowl deepened the instant he opened his hand and saw what she’d given him.
Michael’s Seraph medallion. The very one Cameron had entrusted to Thorn.
So there it was.…
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, what without Miss Jack being here and all. It didn’t seem right for it to be returned now. And with that thought came the deluge of everything they had failed to accomplish. They hadn’t found the bodies from the Fleet disaster. The plat-eyes still had control of those poor bastards. He’d allowed Vine to escape her prison by not stopping it. Gadreyal had captured both Cameron and her brother—two mortals born with Michael’s blood.
And another gate had fractured.…
I seriously reek at my job.
Why Thorn had chosen him for this, he did not know. Perhaps the beast was a masochist. Or he’d taken so many blows to the head in battle that they’d finally addled him.
Devyl hadn’t felt this low or incompetent since the day he’d found his sister. Despair threatened to overwhelm him.
Until he glanced to Mara, who watched on with terrified fretting. I haven’t lost anything yet. Other than a little dignity, and that he could take. Honestly, he didn’t mourn its loss at all.
Just don’t let Mara get hurt. Losing her was the one thing he’d never come back from, and he knew it.
Determined to see this through, he let out a fierce war cry and ran straight to Gadreyal.
* * *
“Marcelina?”
Mara went cold at the sound of her sister’s voice. Prepared to give nothing away as to her thoughts or feelings, she turned toward her and was immediately taken aback by her sister’s incredible beauty. Strange how she’d forgotten just what a graceful, seductive creature Vine was. Why Duel would prefer her over Vine’s confident femme-fatale persona, she couldn’t imagine.
The man must be insane.
