For the man she loved? “I am.”
“Koldo will be upset if she’s injured,” Zacharel said.
“He can’t be upset if he’s dead,” she said—and guess what? No one interrupted her.
Clerici brushed his knuckles across her cheek in the gentlest of caresses. “I like the way your mind works, female. Now, go get your husband.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Even the smallest light can grow until there’s no darkness left.
NICOLA HAD NEVER been to war. Well, not in the natural realm, fighting with her physical body. But even if she had, she knew it wouldn’t have prepared her for this.
Zacharel flew her toward the side of a building in—she wasn’t sure where she was anymore. There were multiple structures, a bridge, water, black birds in every direction, and the air was supercold, even damp. There were about fifteen soldiers with him, flying beside him, and oh, they were a majestic sight.
The sky was dark, the moon high, stars twinkling from their perches. The Sent Ones had somehow colored their wings black with tiny diamond sparks throughout the feathers, and the long appendages blended perfectly into the night.
To the left, she could just make out Jamila’s beautiful face. There was fear in her eyes, but also a little excitement. My coworker is a Sent One, and I had no idea. And what was that sound? The...rattle of snake tails? The rustle of unmowed grass? The hiss of an animal being threatened?
“Serp demons,” Zacharel said. “As I’m sure you know, they are almost as evil as the Nefas, and they are poisonous to all life. They feed upon destruction.”
The Nefas were worse, and Koldo was related to one. But look at everything he’d done to overcome his heritage and his past. He might have been born to vileness, but he’d crawled out of it, was no longer a part of it.
Jade-green eyes locked on her. “These creatures wish to hurt Koldo. Can you kill them?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. Evil wasn’t to be tolerated.
“Good. Because they’ve sensed us, which means the starting bell has rung.” To the others, he shouted, Only kill those who approach the girl.
Somehow, the words reverberated through her mind rather than her ears.
There was no time to question him, no time to marvel. He swooped down and dropped her on the street. She landed with a thud, dust pluming around her. Demons shot out of the shadows, headed straight for her—but Zacharel’s men were there, their swords of fire lighting up the night and striking the demons before they could reach her. Grunts and groans sounded. Heads soon rolled.
So close...
Thankfully, there were no other humans around. It was too late, she supposed.
Before she had time to unfreeze from petrifaction—thought I was prepared...thought wrong—Zacharel scooped her up and resumed his breakneck pace toward the building, which was looming closer and closer. Closer still. He never slowed.
She squeezed her eyes closed, expecting to crash. But then he dived down. Farther and farther. Surely they would reach the ground any moment...now! Impact never came. The air chilled another degree, and she looked on. They were now underground and—going farther dooown. She swallowed a yelp of panic.
When they landed at the bottom of a cave, Zacharel set her on her feet and released her. Then, he and his men lined up behind her, making her a big fat target. Gasps of shock resounded through a now-active campsite, followed by growls of rage. Footsteps scrambled. Bald-headed warriors raced toward her. Just before they reached her, Zacharel broke formation and attacked, swinging his sword of fire. Shouts of pain and panic rang out. The gasps and growls were replaced by grunts and groans.
Baldies kept coming, and the rest of the warriors broke from behind her, as well, stepping beside her to save her from being run down...or decapitated. Their swords danced through the air, cutting, slicing. Flesh burned. Screams joined the chorus. The winged soldiers darted up, flipped in the air, plunged low, moving so quickly she had trouble tracking their progress. Some of the Nefas ran away. Some ran toward the action. But Zacharel and the others couldn’t chase them.
“Nicola,” Zacharel said from beside her. “Do something to draw attention to yourself. Get the rest of them to attack you.”
Yes. Of course.
No, she thought a moment later. She was here to fight, not to watch the action from afar. Not to watch others be struck down defending her. She could do something. And she would.
She held out her arm and peered down at her hand. Her empty hand. What had she done to summon the sword before? She thought back. Laila had just died. Oh, my darling Laila. The demons had just threatened Nicola. She had imagined her life with Koldo.
Joy had filled her.
Joy, then.
Nothing delighted her more than the thought of rescuing Koldo, of living her life with him, the way she’d been born to do. And she would.
Flames sparked to sudden life.
“You and your men gather as many of the enemy as you can,” she said to Zacharel, “and I’ll deliver the deathblows. Don’t do this to help Koldo, but to save me from their wrath. You know they’ll come after me if I survive.” Hopefully, that would save everyone from any kind of penalty.
Zacharel gaped at her, but he asked no questions. He leaped into motion.
He quickly caught one of the Nefas and threw him in Nicola’s direction. She acted immediately, swinging her sword. The tip slashed through the being’s middle. He collapsed on the cave floor, writhing. She struck a second time, taking his head.
One down.
Zacharel sped back into motion. Determined, she marched forward. A male swooped in from the left, morphing from human to black smoke in seconds—before reappearing just in front of her, reaching for her. Again she swung the sword. He ducked and straightened. His hands fit around her neck. But at the moment of contact, he flew backward, as though she’d pushed him.
Was she...shielded again? By her tattoos? Even though she wasn’t staring at them? Maybe. Maybe she had memorized the numbers, and they were now a part of her. Maybe there was another reason. Either way...this rocked.
He hit the ground, hard, losing his breath, allowing her to simply drag her sword up his middle as she walked past.
Two down.
Nope. Three...four...five down. Zacharel and the others constantly threw the Nefas at her and she easily ended their lives, never missing a step.
Six, seven, eight.
After that, she lost count.
She saw that tents had been erected at the far end of the cavern, a little river winding through the center. The man from the park, Koldo’s father, rushed out of the biggest one, with another male and Sirena at his sides. Their eyes widened when they spotted Nicola and her sword.