Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(86)

He hadn’t said a word since he’d commanded Levet to take a back seat and they’d headed in a northwest direction at a speed that made her hair stand on end.

Partially her fault, she ruefully admitted.

Since making the decision to try to rescue her father she’d been questioning her sanity.

Did Sariel really deserve her concern?

It wasn’t as if he’d ever given a damn about her. How many times had she’d been imprisoned without her father bothering to help?

Why put her life on the line for him?

She had plenty of excuses, some of them quite reasonable, but no genuine answer for why it was suddenly so imperative for her to release Sariel from his prison.

Was it any wonder that Roke’s impatient announcement she was acting like a fool had scraped against her raw nerves?

Clearing her throat, she tried to break the ice. “Are you going to sulk for the entire trip?”

His gaze remained locked on the highway that was thankfully empty of traffic.

“Yes.”

“That’s your answer? Yes?”

“Yes.”

“What do you want? An apology?”

“I want you to just once listen to reason.”

Well, fine.

She’d tried.

“You didn’t have to come,” she muttered, grimacing as the temperature dropped to near freezing. “Well, you didn’t,” she pointed out with a shiver.

His gaze at last slashed in her direction. “You can’t expect me to be happy that you’re deliberately putting yourself in danger.”

“I’m going to be in danger until I find my father and give him back the box,” she said. “Until then the demon is going to be hunting me no matter where I might try to hide.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t bother to argue. Which meant he’d already accepted she couldn’t hide forever. He was just being an ass because he was scared for her.

“We could have destroyed it,” he countered, his tone more stubborn than convinced they could actually harm the box.

“Highly doubtful,” Levet chimed in from the backseat. “The spell that is placed on the—”

“Shut up, gargoyle,” Roke snarled.

Levet sniffed. “My next road trip will be strictly leech-free.”

“Thank the gods,” Roke muttered.

Sally ignored the two as the upper glyph on the box pulsed a sharper shade of gold.

“It’s shining brighter,” she muttered.

Roke frowned, glancing at the glowing glyph with blatant suspicion. “What does that mean?”

Sally bit her bottom lip. “I assume that we must be getting closer.”

“Already?”

Sally shared Roke’s wariness. She didn’t know where she expected to find her father, but it wasn’t less than an hour north of Chicago.

“I know, it seems—”

“Too good to be true?” Roke finished for her.

“Yes.”

Levet abruptly poked his head between them, his snout wrinkled as if catching a bad scent.

“Not so good.”

Sally turned her head to meet the gargoyle’s worried gaze. “What is it?”

“I smell demon,” Levet warned.

“Shit.” Roke grabbed his phone off the dash and punched in a number before pressing it to his ear. “Cyn, I need that info on killing the Nebule, pronto.” There was a brief pause before he was shoving the phone into his front pocket. “Perfect,” he muttered.

“What did he say?” Sally demanded.

Roke pressed the accelerator to the floor, his knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel.

“The only known way to kill the bastard is with the power of a Chatri.”

Of course that was the only way.

It couldn’t be something simple like ripping out his throat or putting a stake through his heart.

“We have to get to my father.”

“Oui.” Levet’s wings created a mini-windstorm. “And you might want to hurry.”

“What the hell do you think I’m doing?” Roke muttered.

There was a tense moment of silence as they hurtled through the darkness. Then, a mist was forming in the air between Roke and Sally.

“Sacrebleu,” Levet squeaked as Roke slammed on the brakes, nearly sending the tiny creature through the front windshield.

Sally was moving before the vehicle came to a complete halt, shoving open the door and hitting the ground in a desperate attempt to outrun the demon.

A wasted effort.

She’d taken less than a step when the air in front of her began to vibrate, pulsing through her with enough force to send her to her knees.

She moaned, feeling the full impact of the demon’s powers.

The first time he’d attacked she’d been partially protected by her magical shield. The second time, he’d been focused on Roke.

Now she realized that she didn’t have a damned way to protect herself from a brutal, excruciating death.

Glancing up, she watched as the mist solidified into the form of a chubby Miera demon that Brandel had used before.

“Give me the box,” the Nebule demanded, his black eyes that were slit with crimson glowing with a spooky hunger.

She clutched the box to her chest, shaking her head. “No.”