Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
She gave a slow nod.
He paused, his eyes dark and hot on hers. “I’ll be back.” With that, he and his guards were gone.
Donna rematerialized at her side. “I don’t think he meant that he’ll be back for pizza. I think he meant that he’ll be back for you.”
“He’ll want to let me know how his conversation with Iain goes,” Naomi pointed out.
“Maybe so, but I doubt that’s all he wants. It’s obvious that he’s into you.”
Just because he was attracted to Naomi didn’t mean that he intended to do anything about it. And really, it was probably better that he didn’t. Because she could sense that he was a perceptive son of a bitch; the kind of man who’d ferret out all a girl’s secrets if he put his mind to it. And she had plenty to guard—one in particular was a doozy.
Setting the matter aside, she went back to work. At the end of her shift, she helped Alfie close the place down, said her goodbyes, then slipped on her jacket and left.
The pizzeria was only a five-minute walk from her home, so she arrived soon enough. Her house was small but cozy—living alone, she didn’t need a lot of space.
Inside, she kicked off her heels and tucked them under the bench in the hall. She then removed her jacket and hung it on one of the hooks high above the bench.
Intent on making herself a cup of green tea, she walked into the living room. The first floor was open-plan, the living room separated from the kitchen and dining area by partial glass walls, creating zones.
Naomi froze as she reached for the light switch, her instincts screaming at her.
She wasn’t alone.
CHAPTER TWO
A man stepped out of the shadows. And another. And another. Very soon, Naomi was surrounded by seven bald, clean-shaven, sword-wielding men. They all wore black clothes that were plain aside from the emblem on the breast pocket. A silver shield over which a red crucifix was embroidered.
Crucifix?
Angry at its home being invaded, her entity slunk forward to study them. Though they seemed human, there was a certain air to them. It was preternatural. Light. Spiritual.
Clerics, she concluded.
Descendants of the Nephilim.
Born with the innate ability to channel divine power, clerics—also referred to as Eliouds—regularly embarked on holy quests.
One idly angled his sword in a way that allowed the light to dance along the blade. The steel gleamed as if it had been given an infusion of magick. A glance at the other swords confirmed that they too weren’t simple weapons.
While clerics somewhat loathed demons, they generally didn’t target them without very good reason. Why a holy quest could bring them here, Naomi had no clue.
She did know that she wouldn’t be letting any of them come near her with those bespelled blades. Nor would she be engaging in any fencing—she was quite frankly shit at it.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked as the molten power that lived inside her naturally rose, gathering beneath her skin. The room temperature would steadily rise along with it.
The cleric directly in front of her tilted his head slightly, his green gaze narrowing. “You seem surprised to see us here, yet not afraid. I suppose you believe that he will crawl out of the depths of hell to save you.”
Naomi could only stare at him, dumbfounded. “I’m sorry, what?”
“God will permit no interference from him or anyone else,” he added, ignoring her question. “Tonight can only go one way.”
“The dark one’s plans must be thwarted,” another cleric threw in.
The dark one? Naomi sighed. “You guys escaped from the funny farm, didn’t you?” Really, it made perfect sense. “Drop your weapons,” she ordered, injecting compulsive power into her voice. But, uh, they didn’t.
Green Eyes flicked up a brow. “We are aware that you are a siren. Did you think we would not magickly shield our minds from compulsion before coming here?”
Well, she’d hoped that they hadn’t. “You appear to know plenty about me. It seems only fair for that to be a two-way thing. You’re not going to introduce yourselves?”
He tightened his hand around the hilt of his sword. “You do not need to know who we are. All that matters is what brought us here.”
“The need to thwart the dark one’s plans, right?” Eye-roll. “And who is he, exactly?”
“Oh, he has been given many monikers. The Great Pretender. The Bringer of Light. The Morning Star. The Father of Lies.”
Naomi blinked slowly. “Wait, you’re talking about the devil?” Unreal. Lucifer wasn’t actually some pure evil, all-powerful beast of a being. More of a mercurial, childlike, asocial stoner.
“If it were possible, we would kill him to prevent what is to come. But he is out of our reach, and so it is you we must end. We cannot allow the prophecy to come to fruition.” The cleric spoke in a very old language before adding, “That translates to: ‘For she who bears the mark will birth the child of the devil.’ ”