Demons Prefer Blondes (Demons Unleashed #1)(105)

Her attempts to make her jealous only further fueled the anger. Anger she desperately needed to control. If there was one thing she remembered from the book, it was never let emotions, especially anger, rule your decisions. She made one decision. She wanted to join Rafael. She wanted to help him and his cause. She wanted to become a Paladin.

“I, unfortunately, don’t have such high hopes.”

She spun around to lock gazes with Kalli. Dreadlocks flying about, she growled, deep and animalistic. Like a mother bear protecting her cub. The air crackled. In that instant, Larissa flung Lucy to the side and lunged for Kalli, pulling at her hair, thus confirming suspicions. Kalli’s dreads were real.

Kalli flung Larissa from her hair and lunged with her sword. Larissa sidestepped her and drew her own weapon. Lucy blinked. Kalli’s weapon was reminiscent of what Lucy had seen in her short-lived fencing class, and Larissa sported Jack Sparrow’s sword of choice, a long cutlass.

She shrugged. Whatever floated their boats.

The clashing of metal against metal rent the air and reverberated in her ears. Kalli lunged forward and swiped her blade across Larissa’s chest. A trickle of dark blood pooled onto white gossamer.

“Bitch,” Larissa growled, swiping blood from her cheek. She pounced on Kalli, both women sprawling into the white fluff below.

Craning her neck, she spotted Frankie, Gerardo, and Squeaky pummeling the snake out of Lamia. She hissed, flailing her olive-green tail in a futile attempt to smack the boys around. Squeaky, with a grace no normal chimp would have, dodged the tail and sent an uppercut to Lamia’s chin.

“There’s more where that came from,” Squeaky said, jumping up and down on Lamia’s chest.

Screeching, she dove for Squeaky, wrapped her claws around his chubby ankles and sent him sprawling. Gerardo, each flap of his wings more urgent than the next, flew into the air and dive-bombed Lamia. She sailed backward, dark blood spurting from her floppy tail. With a resounding snap, she hit the same tree Squeaky was chained to earlier. She moaned as her slithering body slid down the tree.

Spinning around, Lucy locked gazes with Rafe. He stood there, tall, dark, and foreboding, holding an ornately carved crossbow over his shoulder. Steamy fog swirled around him as his silver eyes sparked. Despite the roiling of her stomach, she breathed a sigh of relief. Rafe was here. He was safe.

“Lucy!” Rafe rushed to her. Strong arms enclosed around her, cocooning her in his warmth. “We haven’t much time.”

His whispered breath against her ear sent energy racing through her body. Not sexual energy, but another energy altogether. And it was ten times stronger. It filled her with warmth, made her strong and determined. What in the heck was going on?

“I wouldn’t if I were you, Rafael Deleon.” Belial’s sinister voice boomed, freezing her in place. Anger and frustration swirled and boiled inside Lucy. She was raring and ready. She wasn’t a runaway bride. She was a rampaging bride. She would destroy him. After all, she couldn’t destroy Larissa. She sidled a gaze toward Kalli, who sliced her blade through Larissa’s flowing gown. Her gaze stony and determined with each thrust and parry, she growled. Then again, Kalli was already going commando on Lamia’s pawn. A pity—not!—for Larissa.

She turned to glance at Rafe. Gripping the crossbow tightly, he aimed it at Belial, ready to pull the trigger. But he remained staunch and stony, the only glimpse of emotion was the storm brewing in his silver eyes. Hatred and anger rolled from him, yet he remained still. Absolutely amazing.

The words she read in the Paladin manual came blaring at her. Do not allow anger to rule your actions. It sounded so much more interesting in Latin but still packed a punch in English.

“Why shouldn’t I?” Rafe said, keeping his bow trained on the demon.

Smirking, Belial snapped his finger. In a biting cold gust of air, his priestess shimmered and materialized, her gaze still firmly planted toward the ground. “You’ve yet to meet my priestess.”

Nic, stoic as ever, stood next to Rafe, his head held high. “I pity the priestess that serves you.”

“I beg to differ.” Belial tugged the cloaked woman closer, his chuckle echoing through the bitter cold. With an evil flash of his golden eyes, he yanked the hood of her robe down. Strands of hair as silver as the moonlight cascaded and swirled, as if it tangoed with the wind. She kept her gaze planted to the ground in shame.

Rafe let out a sharp breath of air, his arm tightening around Lucy, protection mixed with anger. She turned her head to glance up. His silver eyes churned like a giant storm and his jaw tightened.

Slowly she raised her head, the familiar spark of silver flashing in her eyes. Lucy’s blood ran cold. This was Coby—Rafe’s sister.

The sound of steel scraping filled the air. “Bastard.”

Rafe and Lucy snapped their gazes toward Nic. He stood with sword drawn, ready to strike.

Belial, obviously pleased with his unveiling, threw back his head as thick, grating laughter erupted from him. “Lovely, two distraught Paladins for the price of one.”

“Let her go,” Nic demanded, gripping his sword, his knuckles turning white.

Belial’s lips curved upward. He traced his finger down Coby’s cheek. “Perhaps she doesn’t want me to let her go. Right, Jacoba?” With that, he pulled Coby to him and lowered his mouth to hers. His lips enveloped hers, like he would suck out her soul.