Page 60 of Priest

“He’s finished,” Knight said a moment later. “He won’t wake for a while, but Jeremiah asked me to bring him back to the safe house.”

Oliver pushed Azriel’s wing to the side and peered over. Poe had color now, and his breathing was steadier. “The others?”

Knight shrugged. “There were several unturned humans. The Bravo Team took whoever was alive. No sign of the Nephilim as far as we can tell.” His gaze moved to Azriel, who closed his own eyes, then shook his head.

“If he was here, he was gone long enough for his essence to dissipate. That takes about a day.”

Poe’s heart dropped, but he knew they had to stay focused on what they could do. “So now what?”

“The others are gathering as much information as they can. The computers have been wiped, but the ones running this place are human. They’re no match for Sunshine and Priest.” Knight turned away and gathered Poe close to his chest. “Meet us at the safe house. There’s nothing left here for you.”

And then he was gone before Oliver could say a word.

“Well, you heard him,” Azriel said, reaching for Oliver’s hand again.

Oliver pulled back. “I want to make sure Priest is okay.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll see him shortly. There’s nothing you can do for him now except distract him, and that’s the one thing he asked me to make sure didn’t happen.”

Oliver wanted to be angry. Hewasangry. But he couldn’t let himself act on it. That wasn’t fair. He wasn’t a fighter. All he’d do was get in the way. The compound had gone quiet, but that didn’t mean it was over.

Besides, if he went home now, he could be there when Poe woke up, and that was enough to motivate him into taking Azriel’s hand. “Alright. Get us there safe.”

Azriel nodded. “You have my word.”

17

PRIEST

As far as fights went, it was anticlimactic in ways that were almost disappointing. Priest hadn’t used his wings in eons. He hadn’t been strong enough to draw them out. But feeding on Oliver had given him power he hadn’t known he was capable of having, and he beat Jeremiah’s Hellhound to the compound.

They were met with immediate gunfire—something he was expecting. Jeremiah was able to shield the three of them as they breached the doors, and it wasn’t long before the first guards were taken down. They had just enough time to sound the alarm before Jeremiah was tearing throats, Knight was puncturing carotid arteries, and Priest was sinking teeth and claws into vulnerable flesh.

These were evil humans. He could sense it, taste it on their blood. They were afraid, but only because they had committed hell-worthy sins. Priest could smell fear in that place. He could smell death.

And something else.

Whatever it was, it had taken Knight directly to his knees. He glanced over to find his friend covered in blood, trembling fromhead to toe. He met Jeremiah’s eyes as the Hellhound shifted back and walked over, kneeling beside the Vampire.

“Go and find Poe. Find the others. Let Priest and me handle this.”

Knight swallowed heavily, his jaw tense. “It was here. This was the place.”

“I know,” Jeremiah growled. “And we will burn it to the fucking ground, but first, we need to get as many people out of here as we can.” He pressed his finger to his ear, listening to the static on his earpiece. Something in the compound was interfering, but the leader of Charlie Team came through well enough. “Charlie says they’re fleeing through underground tunnels.”

Knight climbed to his feet, his fight renewed, and then he was gone in the blink of an eye. Priest followed Jeremiah down a maze of tunnels. The Bravo Team was ahead of them, pulling humans from cages, off medical exam tables, and from behind locked doors.

Somewhere in the distance, Priest could hear children crying, and then he heard Knight’s roar. Gods have mercy on whatever humans were left behind to guard them. He could feel Knight’s rage from where he stood.

“Here,” Jeremiah said, leading Priest through a door. It was a massive medical room, and there was a table in the center. The person on the bed was no longer alive and was just starting to smell like decay.

They were emaciated, skin almost translucent, and they were still hooked up to IVs.

“What the fuck?” Priest whispered. Was this what Knight had endured? He glanced over and saw Jeremiah gathering a few leather-bound journals careless humans had left behind before turning his attention back to the body. Something about the man’s face looked familiar.

“Zimmerson’s son.”

The lawyer from the second attack.

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