Page 50 of Blaze

“No.”

Reaper’s simple refusal is met with a sigh. Father Xavius angles his face to the side, and Brother Benedict grips the Sister’s arm and drags her to stand beside him.

“Do not say I didn’t offer peace,” Father Xavius says, like he’d have actually walked away without trying to kill us.

The younger, dark-haired man grips the back of the woman’s neck. He shares enough similarities to Enzo and Riccardo that it’s clear how the Santi Pastoris are connected to the Justicars. What a charming, fucked-up family.

I find Enzo and frown. He’s looking at his cell phone. Riccardo is listening more to him than the Light Justicars. I can’t hear what he’s saying, though.

Brother Benedict shouts in Latin, and Sister Sloan’s body arches as if struck by lightning, her mouth open in a silent scream. Then she straightens, her eyes fogged in white. Light surges out from her, barreling towards us with enough force to pick up dust and debris.

Pain consumes me, drowns me, until I give up every hold on my human form. My fires burn away the pain and my vision clears.

We’re all in our demon forms, our abilities to shift taken away.

I throw my head back and laugh, plumes of smoke escaping my lungs.

Reaper raises a shadow-cloaked arm, then snaps his hand forward in command.

We charge the Light Justicars and the Santi Pastori soldiers, death in our hearts.

I seek out my target, only to see the coward climbing into the SUV with his second. I move to leap over the fighting, but a force slams me to the ground.

I roar and leap back up to my feet. Brother Benedict faces me, a curved glowing dagger in each hand. I crack my jaw. First, I will kill this Light Justicar. Then I will hunt the coward Enzo down and rid the Earth of his filth.

18

BONES

Goddamn, I love this baby. Almost more than my bike. Almost.

The job back in Cali was worth every minute, just for this black hawk beauty alone. She’s a gem, and I can’t wait to see what she can do.

“Fucking hate being stuck up here.” Brute’s complaint reaches my ears over the loud aircraft. We don’t need headsets like humans. “I wanted to get my hands dirty.”

I shake my head, but I get it. I used to be like Brute. Eager for battle. After what I was forced to do in the Underworld, the reason why I won’t kill unless I have to, whispers from the souls I carry climb within me to become louder than this helicopter is now, that is until I push them back down by force of will into the cold quiet of the darkness.

“You might get lucky,” I say over my shoulder. “Maybe we’ll need to mow down the mortals. Looks like shit’s getting interesting.”

We’re high enough up that humans shouldn’t be able to hear us with the stealth mode activated, or if they can, they can’t identify the sound. With our excellent eyesight, even at night, we still have a good view on what’s going down in front of the Knights of Hades clubhouse.

“Three Justicars,” I call out as the three glowing figures in white cassocks stop in front of Reaper.

Brute growls. “Fucking insulting.”

I shake my head, grinning, and catch my reflection in the windshield. The white skull of my face tattoo stretches into a rictus grin. It’s an ever-present reminder of my powers. Not that the scars covering my torso aren’t enough of a reminder.

“One is a female,” I tell him, my eyesight picking out the blonde-haired woman. She seems stiff. Not sure how I can tell from here, but my eyes keep being drawn to her. “Shit’s happening.”

I look at the other Justicars, then Reaper. Then, like a magnetic pull too strong to resist, I find her again. The brown-haired Justicar is holding on to her, and I swear I can see her screaming. Anger courses through me. Even if she’s a Justicar, I can’t fucking stand the sight of someone hurting a woman.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathe out as a massive tsunami of light bursts from her, heading right towards our brothers. It’s so bright, it blinds me even from this high up. Like someone set off a flash right in front of my eyes. Blinking hard, I struggle to see what’s going on.

“It’s going down,” Brute yells, and I hear him cocking the repeater. “Whatever she did, they’ve all lost their human forms.”

A moment later, I see he’s right. Then my still splotchy vision tracks movement.

“One of the SUVs is leaving,” I say, torn between chasing the single vehicle or staying to provide aerial support.

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