Page 29 of Destined for Eternity
“Only after you find it.”
Raguel jerked the prisoner from her and flashed away. Melena’s hand was left hanging in the air. She stared at the empty spot where he’d been and muttered a curse before swinging around to Bartol. “Your father has gone too far.”
“There is nothing we can do about it now. I suggest we don’t waste time and start looking,” he replied. Already, every fiber of his being called for him to do the job that was bred into him.
She let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine, but I’m having a long talk with him when this is over.”
“Good luck.”
As she and the groups of nerou ran for the vehicles in the compound parking lot, none of them able to flash, Bartol left the faster way. He arrived alone about a mile from the town of Fox. He had to try thinking like his father if he was to locate the demon quickly, and it helped he’d have a head start alone. It wasn’t easy working with others, so he didn’t bother joining any of the groups. They only slowed him down anyway.
He closed his eyes and sent his senses out as far as they could go, but he found no demonic presence nearby. Alaska was a wide open place with a very low population. One could go for miles without running into another person, which was a good thing in this case as long as he found his target quickly.
Bartol considered where his father might have dropped the demon off. Raguel said it would be near the town but not in it. This was a region with rolling hills, as well as thick areas of trees and shrubs. Would the archangel have placed the possessed woman within dense foliage or in a more open location? Could she be near one of the two highways that ran through the area? That would be bad if the demon decided to flag down a vehicle and get a hold of any occupants. Would his father have been willing to take that risk? Archangels thought differently than most, and it was possible he’d risk human lives for the greater good of high stakes training.
With that thought in mind, Bartol flashed to a location north of town between the two highways. Riverbeds ran through the area, and the foliage was quite thick in some spots. He sent his senses out once more. He didn’t pick up on anything definitive, but his instincts told him to head west toward Elliot Highway.
Moving at a steady jog—the fastest he could go by foot over the tough terrain—he kept his mind alert and searching. The urgent sensation intensified the farther he went. He had no doubt the demon was ahead of him somewhere and moving west as well. Bartol would have to go faster if he were to catch up to the possessed woman. He flashed a quarter of a mile and rechecked his senses, relieved he could now pick up a definite signature. It was dark and malevolent. Demons felt that way all the time, but if they were about to do something particularly bad, he’d learned their maliciousness grew stronger. This demon had a target.
He flashed to the location where he sensed his prey, arriving next to a two-lane highway. He found the possessed woman walking with a limp toward a semi-truck that had stopped on the shoulder. The driver was in front of the vehicle with the hood open.
“Please help,” the demon called in a pathetic voice.
She had a cut on her leg with blood running down it. Since the human host was wearing a thigh-length flowery dress with short sleeves, it wasn’t hard to spot the wounds. Most people would feel sorry for a female in such a state, even if it was strange she’d be alone in a remote area such as this.
The driver spotted the woman and set down a tool he had in his hand. “What happened to you?”
“My car got a flat tire down the road,” she replied, slowly limping toward him. “I started walking to find help and fell. My knee has a gash.”
Not too unbelievable, considering the host wore three-inch high heels.
Bartol waited and watched for another moment since he wanted to see what kind of game his prey played. It would help him understand how demons worked that much better. He didn’t get an opportunity like this often since most of the time when he ran into them they were either trying to blend into their surroundings or actively attacking.
The trucker moved toward the woman, sympathy on his face. “I’m afraid I can’t do much for you. My rig is broken down as well—as you can see—and I’m waiting on help, but I got a first aid kit so we can fix you up until my ride gets here.”
“Oh, yes, that would be great.” She smiled thankfully at him as he reached her. “I was scared being out here by myself with all the wild animals.”
Bartol highly doubted that. He flashed closer, making himself invisible so they wouldn’t see him. He stood just along the tree line about fifty feet away.
The trucker took the woman’s arm and helped her toward his truck. “The least we can do is clean that wound up. It looks nasty.”
“Yes.” The woman whimpered. “It hurts, too.”
Bartol continued to shadow them, creeping closer to the highway. To his relief, this demon wasn’t strong enough to see through his invisibility spell, so he could monitor them from just a handful of paces away without being noticed. He couldn’t think what the creature’s game might be with this act.
“Do you drive this route often?” the possessed woman asked.
“Yeah, several times a week,” the trucker replied, leaving her leaning against the vehicle while he jumped inside to get the first aid kit.
The demon’s eyes glimmered with a hint of red while it thought it didn’t have an audience. Then it reached down into a purse hanging from its shoulder and brought out a rusty dagger. Where had the demon gotten that? Could it have had it the whole time and Raguel didn’t notice, or did it pick it up along the way? The weapon appeared old and worn.
The trucker climbed back out of the cab with a first aid kit in hand. His eyes widened when he spotted the woman now holding a knife. The demon’s eyes were still red, as it had apparently decided not to hide its nature anymore.
“My God, what are you?” he said, backing away.
The possessed woman grinned evilly at him. “Definitely not God.”
The trucker tripped on his heels and fell hard onto the pavement. He dropped the first aid kit and lifted his hands in front of him in a protective posture as his attacker came to stand over him with the knife raised high.
