Warrior Angel

She was heading for trouble.

Einar watched the raven-haired woman walking straight towards a male coming the opposite way through the moonlit park. He beat his tawny wings, keeping his position high above them in the cool air.

The woman appeared and disappeared as she passed under the intermittent streetlamps that lined the paths that snaked through the London park like veins, arteries that had grown quiet over the past hour as night had tightened its hold on the city. The lights used in an attempt to offer guidance and safety through the enormous area of green weren’t strong enough to cut through the darkness, leaving the park as a black hole in a sea of glittering golden and white pinpricks.

London stretched as far as he could see in all directions, a golden halo capping it that drowned out the stars and revealed the shadowy shapes of the high-rises and landmarks to him.

Einar swooped lower in the night, wanting to get a better look at the two people and unable to ignore the pressing need to be closer in case he was right and the man wasn’t a man at all.

If the demon showed any sign of attacking the woman, he would intervene. Until that happened, he would watch, hidden from them both by his power.

It wasn’t his place to interfere in things.

He was here to hunt, not protect.

The steady rush of wind over him chilled his skin, drawing his focus to the world around him again, even as he tried to keep it pinned on the female and the potential demon below him.

Summer was on its way out and autumn was encroaching as surely as the night. The days were growing short and he still hadn’t found his demon targets, despite scouring the city for them, chasing every lead he had and every new one he discovered.

Heaven’s Court were becoming restless with the desire to know why a commander of theirs called Amaer had sided with three demons, assisting them in the disposal of over one hundred human bodies, and had incriminated a fellow angel, setting him up to take the fall.

Lukas hadn’t deserved to have such a thing happen to him. For as long as Einar had known him, the mediator had been one of the most upstanding and loyal angels in Heaven. If Einar had known about his plight earlier, if his old comrade had told him what had happened and how he had been blamed for a crime he hadn’t committed, he would have tried to help him sooner.

He had failed to help him clear his name and prove his innocence, but he wouldn’t fail to find out what Amaer had been doing and he wouldn’t fail to track down the demons who had been involved.

Although, Lukas could have helped him by keeping Amaer alive so Einar could question him. He sighed at that and shook his head. He couldn’t blame Lukas. The male had been given an order, and he had fulfilled it, and Heaven hadn’t exactly taken a back seat in proceedings. They had been the ones to obliterate Amaer.

Destroying any leads and information Amaer could have given him in the process.

Now his only lead were the demons.

Einar sensed the woman moving closer and his focus snapped back to her.

She was close to the man now.

Einar’s hand went to the hilt of the blade hanging from his waist. The vambrace protecting his forearm was cold against the strip of stomach exposed between his rich brown and gold breastplate and the pointed strips of armour that protected his hips.

It wouldn’t be long before he had to wear winter armour, which meant this hunt was taking too long. It was wearing him down now. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept for more than a few hours before waking, driven by a restlessness that demanded he keep searching for the demons and answers.

It was beginning to affect his concentration.

A noise from below snagged his attention. He silently cursed himself as the woman reared back as the man lunged for her, her black hair dancing in the breeze as she attempted to evade him.

Einar beat his wings and shot towards her.

Slammed to a halt in mid-air barely a few metres above her, unable to believe his eyes as she drew a short silver blade from beneath the back of her black jacket and started to fight.

She was breathtaking.

He could only stare as she fought the male demon who still wore his human form.

Her movements were fluid, mesmerising, made only more graceful by her slender figure and the tight clothes that hugged her long legs, trim waist and lean torso. She swung her right leg around, connecting hard with the demon’s head, and the male grunted and snarled as he struggled to shake off the blow. The moment her foot touched the floor, she brought it back again, catching the demon unawares and unguarded.

He toppled sideways, losing balance and fighting to remain upright.

She kicked off on a low grunt, barrelling towards the demon and putting him on the back foot, keeping him off balance with lunges and swipes of the short blade.

It gleamed brightly in the moonlight, flashes of white and silver lines marking its deadly path.

Einar beat his wings to keep steady, bewitched by the woman and her ability to fight, unable to bring himself to move despite the need to help her that steadily built inside him.

He couldn’t stop himself from admiring her, didn’t want to disturb her or make her aware of him, because he feared it would end the alluring dance she was performing with her opponent.

He had never thought a female could have such skill.

He had only ever met females that needed tending to and protecting.

This one was different. She handled a weapon with ease, and with skill almost matching his own, and she radiated confidence and strength that said she could take care of herself. It didn’t stop him from wanting to intervene in her fight, but he was damned if he could convince himself to move.

The male demon snarled and shifted his shoulders. Black ragged scaly wings erupted from his back, tearing through his dark shirt, and his hands became talons.

Einar’s eyes narrowed.

The history recorded in the pool in Hell had revealed the type of demon that had committed the sin of killing the innocent humans.

This man was one of their breed.

Einar’s dark gaze leaped to the woman, because he was sure she would be horrified, shocked or possibly even already fleeing, and he refused to let the demon get the jump on her, was ready to swoop down and assist her, taking over the battle against the male.

She didn’t even hesitate at the sight of the man’s wings and claws. She continued her attack, evading every lunge and swipe he made at her, dealing blows of her own in return whenever she could get close enough and showing no sign of running.

If anything, she was putting more effort into the fight now that the demon had revealed himself.

Which meant she wasn’t a stranger to this sort of creature.

The demon screeched and launched himself at her, still half in his human guise.

She blocked each slash of his talons with her short sword but the demon was forcing her backwards now, putting her off balance this time. She rallied, kicking the demon in the shin and then aiming another one at his chest.

Time seemed to slow as the demon grinned, easily caught her ankle and twisted, hurling her along the pavement. She tumbled, arms and legs flailing, her weapon flying across the grass, and stopped a few metres away from the demon. She was still for a moment, a heartbeat that seemed like an eternity to Einar as he focused on her, needing to see if she was hurt or worse, unconscious and vulnerable, and then she growled a dark curse.

Her long dark hair covered her face as she struggled to get to her feet.

Cold fury curled through Einar’s veins, tightening his muscles. He flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword and gripped it so tightly his bones hurt.

He had seen enough.

The demon ran at the woman.

Einar swept down between them, dropping the glamour that concealed him from their eyes at the same time as he drew his sword, and blocked the demon’s attack.

The male snarled and hissed through his fangs as he leaped backwards, placing some distance between them.

Einar pulled down a deep breath, steadying himself as he waited, holding the demon’s dark gaze as the male stared at him, his expression constantly shifting as he studied Einar.

Was he thinking of running?

He wouldn’t get far.

If he was thinking of attacking him, he would meet the same fate.

If he was thinking about reaching the woman to hurt her?

Einar needed the male alive, but he would kill the wretch if he had to in order to protect her.

He stretched his tawny wings out to shield her where she struggled behind him. The rich smell of her blood filled the air as she muttered black things under her breath. The demon would pay for hurting her, after he had extracted information from him.

The urge to glance over his shoulder to check on her was powerful, consuming, but he denied it, keeping his focus on the demon instead. He would tend to her once he had dealt with the demon.

The male twitched.

Einar readied himself.

“Get out of my damn way, you big oaf,” the woman bit out just as the demon charged them.

Einar turned towards her. Was she speaking to him?

She crouched, tugged the right leg of her dark jeans up, revealing her black leather boot, and the next thing Einar knew, she had a knife in her hand and was running past him.

Resilient, resourceful, but foolish.

Unless she wanted to get herself killed.

She lunged at the demon on a battle cry that stirred Einar’s blood in a way he really didn’t want to examine.

The demon lashed out, slamming the back of his right hand into the side of her head, sending her skidding across the dewy grass. She landed in a heap and didn’t move this time.

Einar beat his tawny wings and shot towards the demon, his blade aimed directly at the male. The demon barely had a chance to look at him before Einar’s sword was through his gut, ripping a bellow from him. Einar locked gazes with the demon, clenched his jaw and twisted the sword, tearing another pained cry from him.

“Tell me where the others are hiding,” Einar growled and the flicker of fear in the demon’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. He was right. This demon was one of them. “Tell me, and you will live. Do not tell me, and I will banish you to Hell to face your master instead.”

The demon’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

He opened his mouth.

Strange cold rushed from below Einar’s feet.

Before he could move, a column of darkness swept up and around them, engulfing both him and the demon. Intense heat and a vivid golden glow lit the ground beneath them as the column rapidly expanded and he tightened his grip on the demon as he felt power pushing at him.

He couldn’t lose the male, couldn’t lose the information he could give him, the lead he so desperately needed and felt sure this demon was about to offer him.

His boots lifted off the floor.

His grip slipped.

Einar bit out an oath as a blast of the dark power flung him backwards, sending him tumbling heels over head into the sky. He stretched his wings out, gritted his teeth as they caught the currents and twisted painfully, and grinned as he managed to beat them, stopping his ascent.

He turned and plummeted back towards the demon.

A bright flash blinded him and he instinctively shielded his eyes.

When the light dissipated, he lowered his hand and stared down at where the demon had been.

A charred circle on the ground was all that remained, together with the sickening stench of brimstone hanging in the cool night air.

A dark curse rolled off Einar’s tongue as he landed gently, sheathed his sword, and walked to the burnt patch of path. He crouched beside it, reached out and hovered his hand over the warm ashes. A sigh lifted his shoulders, causing his breastplate to shift.

Had someone done this to stop the demon from talking?

It wasn’t the Devil. He took no interest in such affairs and Einar’s threat had been just that—a threat. The Devil wouldn’t do anything if Einar could banish a demon to Hell to face the consequences. If anything, he would probably congratulate the demon for doing something to annoy Heaven and the angels.

A groan from the darkness snapped Einar out of his thoughts.

The woman.

He twisted towards her.

She pressed her hands into the grass, her arms shaking as she tried to push herself up. Her tangled fall of dark hair swayed as she struggled, concealing her face from him but not her voice. She was still muttering obscenities, had a tongue a demon would be proud of as she managed to get onto her feet.

The smell of blood grew stronger.

She touched her arm, brought her hand out in front of her, and promptly collapsed.