Page 31 of Destined for Eternity
Chapter 12
Bartol
Three nerou stood guard over a demon-possessed girl as Bartol walked up to them. Every day for nearly a week, Raguel had found someone for them to track, and they were all getting quite good at it. Bartol hadn’t thought they’d progress so fast, but his father proved to be an excellent trainer. He hadn’t lost his touch in the thousands of years since he last led a legion of angels who’d fought demon armies. It was too bad he wouldn’t share why they were having so many troubles with the dark side lately. The archangel remained tightlipped about that.
Today, they’d had to track and capture a younger than normal demon host. Raguel had set the girl loose near the Chena River. He wasn’t very specific beyond the fact that he’d dropped the child off on the west side of Fairbanks, so it had taken a while for them to narrow down their target’s location. Though Bartol often found their prey first, a group of nerou had won the day this time. They’d had to call him once they’d immobilized their target since he still had to be the one to kill the demon. As he joined them now, they gave him smug smirks. Their training might be serious business, but they still made it a competition.
He stared down at their catch. It was a seven-year-old girl, lying unmoving on her back near the river bank. She wore purple jeans and a white t-shirt with a unicorn on the front. His gut twisted. It made Bartol sick that the demons would go after someone so young and innocent.
He studied the girl with curly, blond hair and his hopes flared. “The human soul is still present.”
Olivia nodded. “I noticed that as well.”
It had been too late for all the others until now, and their souls had already moved on to the afterlife. More often than not, demons destroyed the bodies of the people they possessed, not needing their hosts to be whole to animate them, but he was thankful this one had survived.
He kneeled down next to the still body. “The three of you did well with the capture.”
There wasn’t a scratch on the girl. They’d managed to take her down without hurting her, which was the goal in case the human soul inside remained. That wasn’t easy to manage.
All three nerou in the group smiled proudly. Most of their training was tough and unrewarding. The nephilim-sensor hybrids had almost no choice in their future and received little praise since it was considered their sacred duty. Bartol might not be the warm, sociable man he once was, but he tried to make a point of giving them credit when it was due. They deserved to be appreciated for their sacrifices.
“This one was weak and didn’t put up much of a fight,” a male nerou named Ivan said.
Most of the demons they’d tracked recently were of a lesser cast.
Bartol put his hand to the child’s chest. He was grateful he didn’t have to fight the demon inside and could go straight to work. Much of the time, it was quite inconvenient having to train with the nerou because he preferred to avoid people, but this time it proved to be an advantage. He couldn’t stun demons still like the hybrids could.
Taking a deep breath, Bartol drew the demon spirit out fast. It took less than twenty seconds this time. Bartol expelled the essence with a shudder, relieved to let it go. He checked the girl over next and found she had some internal wounds keeping her from waking on her own, including a concussion. The demon hadn’t been inside long, but their kind began doing damage almost from the start. They could keep the body animated no matter the injuries. Bartol’s skills at tending wounds were limited, and anything to do with the brain was beyond him.
“You.” He gestured at Ivan, remembering the large, hulking man had a talent for healing. As the only nerou who’d managed to stay with his father through childhood—all the way to sixteen years old—he knew his craft better than any of the others. His nephilim sire had been among the greatest at that particular skill. “Treat her.”
Ivan kneeled next to the girl. He touched her forehead and arm, closing his eyes. A few seconds passed before he opened them. “The damage is reversible.”
“Good. Then take care of her.”
As the nerou began his work, a brilliant flash of light appeared down the river bank. As it faded away, Jeriel and two of his angelic minions stood in its place. The cowboy archangel began walking toward them at a brisk pace, his nondescript men following behind him.
Bartol rose to his feet and crossed his arms. “What are you doing here?”
“All of you need to return to the compound now.” He glanced down at the girl, who was beginning to wake as Ivan healed her wounds. “I’ll take care of her.”
“I’m nearly finished,” Ivan said.
“Then get it done quickly. She needs her memories altered and to be returned to her family. My men and I can do it faster than any of you.”
Olivia lifted her chin. “Think highly of yourself, do you?”
He shrugged. “I’m only stating facts, ma’am.”
“You’re not very good at pretending to be human,” she replied.
“I’d say your words wound me, but they don’t.” He gave her a lazy smile and switched to a heavy southern accent, “If I was of the mind, though, I could convince ya.”
She twitched her nose. “Maybe.”
Ivan rose to his feet. “I’m done.”
Jeriel flicked his hands at the three nerou, and they disappeared. Only a very powerful archangel could transport three people at a time and not have to go with them. Bartol had never seen it done.
