The Forsaken(24)

For the first time in a long time he caused her to question her original notions of taking up arms. Izzy shook her head. She took up arms to defend herself, a right all females should enjoy. She’d gone against tradition once because she believed she mattered. She might have been born a Cherub but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be something more. The heavenly realm might not accept her actions to take up arms in the war, but after all she’d suffered she wouldn’t cave to the expectations of others.

Still, after fighting Earth demons for years, she felt she was no closer to understanding their purpose. For every demon she slayed, a dozen more would show up in Boston.

Standing in the middle of the alley, she pulled up her sleeves to expose her bare arms. Withdrawing the small knife she kept in her boot she winced as she made a long cut in each arm. It might hurt her to cut her own flesh but the allure of her golden-hued blood, which smelled like incense drew demons like bees to flowers.

At one time, Izzy had tried interrogating the human-turned demons but she’d quickly discovered that was a waste of time. The humans who had been demon-turned had no inkling of why; they only sought one thing—to turn more humans into demons. It was a vicious cycle. Before Nathanael had arrived, she’d been getting quite weary of her lonely, one-sided battle, but she’d fought for them to take up arms and slay demons, so Izzy wasn’t about to quit anytime soon.

“Why I do believe it’s dinnertime,” said an ugly demon who materialized from behind two large Dumpsters.

The fetid smell of the demon’s breath forced her attention to the task at hand. “Don’t you demons bathe? Or better yet, brush your teeth? I’m sure I’ve got a mint somewhere in one of my pockets, and I’m begging you to chew it before I have to kill you.”

From the corner of Izzy’s eye she noted two more demons trying to sneak up on her to the right. The ugly demon jumped right in front of her face and smacked Isabella’s face hard. Her neck jarred so much, Izzy heard something crack. She spat. “That had better not scar.”

“Me master said you’d be the cocky one.”

“Really? Izzy had never heard a demon mentioning its master before and this development gave her pause. The demon, still wearing his blue pin-striped business suit, which now had vomit on the front, glared at her. He had recently been taken, and the black stain of his soul still crept up around his neck. In another day his entire flesh would be grayish black. Then again, he’s not going to live to see another day. She waited until the two to her right grew surer of their so-called skills.

Bracing for a punch to her gut, she eyed the other demons, both were older by a dozen years. It still amazed Izzy that no Earth-born angels seemed to be aware of the demons’ existence. She’d made the mistake once of telling the madam who ran the Earth-bound Cherub safe house about them and didn’t need to be told twice to keep her mouth shut. If only they’d run them over, preferably in one of their Porsches. A vision of doing that made her crack a smile. The punch to her gut stole her breath away. She crumpled to her knees, barely avoiding falling flat on her face. Her jeans ripped, making her see red.

“Okay, now I’m pissed. Those jeans were expensive and I seriously hate shopping. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get jeans when you’re almost six feet and not a size zero in this town? You are so dead.”

Izzy jumped up, startling them, and kicked out with her leg to let her arms go wide, her aim dead on as she let glide her morning stars dipped in holy water. The newly turned demon in front of her gasped and fell to his knees. Izzy quite enjoyed the still-shocked look on his face, a look she instantly classified in the ‘what-a-girl-killed-me?’ category a second before he vaporized.

Smiling sweetly, she turned toward the older demons. “Now it’s your turn.”

They both grinned, but the shorter one drooled like a dog. Fear spiked inside her for the first time in thirty-six hours as Izzy watched the dark shadows of the alley morph into ghostlike figures. Izzy did a slow clap. “Wow, something new for a change.” Moving into the middle of the grimy alley, she braced her legs for impact. She counted fifteen figures, each with red-glowing demon eyes. They might move like zombies but she knew firsthand they weren’t a myth.

The demons who had morphed from the shadows weren’t human-turned demons coming at her, rather Hell’s minions, and her heart started to race. The last time she’d fought them had been in the heavens and it certainly hadn’t been easy. Without a doubt, Izzy knew she was now in for the fight of her life. For a minute true regret for her irrational actions washed over her. She couldn’t die. Her sisters needed her.

One large, shadowy figure edged toward her. “This is the one.”

“The one. Why thank you.” If she could play them along for a bit longer, she might be able to reach the two knives tucked into the holster underneath her shirt. Confidently, she placed her arms on her hips, ensuring her fingers were a little higher up than normal, getting ready for a quick grab.

With four minions surrounding her, Izzy prayed for a quick death. “Now would be a good time to have wings,” she said. A manic chuckle flew from her lips.

When they lunged, she grabbed her knives, squatted, and let them fly. No evaporation. Her knives simply flew through the demons like they weren’t there. The one with the death grip on her outstretched leg certainly felt solid enough to her. Punching him in the face felt real too. Why did her knives not work?