Demons Prefer Blondes (28 page)

“Rafael?” Kalli’s concerned voice broke him from his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

Rafael nodded. He was more than okay. He’d kick Belial back to the underworld. “I’m fine.”

“From the spark in your eyes, my friend, you’re more than fine.” Smiling, Dominic slapped Rafael on the back. “You’re ready, aren’t you?”

“More than ready.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Let’s do this.” He turned to Kalli. “Well?”

Kalli smacked her forehead and rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting for you two!”

“Good.” Rafael needed to teleport. Now. “So how do we do it?”

“I’m still reading.” Kalli returned to the tome, scanning each page. “Nothing too difficult, it seems.”

He’d gladly spin on his head while riding a unicycle if it brought him closer to Lucy.

“Here it is!” Kalli narrowed her gaze. “It says to break the ward, you must state that which your heart desires most. Hmm, already did that.” She flipped a page. “Then you join hands with those close to you and close your eyes. Then one of the archangels will crack the ward.” A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, her brow furrowing. “Bloody hell. More angels?”

“If it means saving Lucy, I’d deal with an entire host of angels.”

Kalli nodded. “Fair enough. Dominic?”

Dominic glanced up. “This will bring us that much closer to Coby. I’m in.”

“Okay!” Kalli hopped from the car hood. “We are so going to kick some Infernati ass.”

She flung open the car door and heaved the book inside. Engaging the lock, she stuffed the keys into her pocket. “Sorry, we can’t bring the book along.”

“Fine by me,” Dominic said. “Now get over here. We haven’t much time.”

That was the understatement of the century. Rafael reached into his coat pocket and grabbed his BlackBerry. He hated electronics, but since he’d relinquished his broken timepiece to Kalli, it was all he had. Glancing down at the digital display, he grumbled.

Eleven-fifty. Only ten minutes left.

In one fluid motion, he reached out and clasped Dominic’s hand. He extended the other toward Kalli. “Here. Now.”

“Sure, big guy,” she replied with a shrug. With quick, lithe steps, she stood arm to arm with him and laced her fingers with his. “It’s now or never.”

With that, they all closed their eyes. Gusts of winds swirled and spun in a subzero vortex that sent him reeling. Arctic blasts of snow pelted his face and shards of ice nicked his face. Icicles dangled from his hair and his face iced over. He wouldn’t have been able to open his eyes if he tried. If the Paladin’s portals were cold, this was a bloody glacier. And he didn’t care. He’d let them freeze off all his appendages if it meant saving Lucy.

“Now, now. How would Lucia like that?” an ethereal voice boomed. A voice he recognized well. The one who’d sealed him to the fate of Paladin. The angel who blessed him.

An archangel? He’d been blessed by an archangel. His mind reeled and his heart stopped. What the bloody hell was going on?

“In time, Deleon. All shall be revealed soon.”

To hell with soon
. He wanted answers now. “Who are you?”

The angel blew out a long breath of air. “Always the impatient one, Deleon.” He paused. “Very well. You may open your eyes.”

Rafael flicked open his lids. Opening his mouth to speak, he promptly shut it. Shock and surprise swirled within. The angel smiled, long pale golden hair sweeping across his pristine white wings. Bedecked in a golden breastplate and flowing red robes, he stepped forward, the gold of the matching greaves adorning his shins glinting in the snow. Even without the sword and shield, there was no mistaking who stood before them.

Michael. The warrior. The one who sent Satan to hell. And, apparently, the angel—no, make that
archangel
—who blessed him.

Dominic and Kalli opened their eyes and gaped, just as shocked as him.

“Shocking, isn’t it?” Michael smiled, handing Rafael a shiny crossbow and silver gilt quiver and arrows.

Rafael went down on one knee and lowered his head.

Dominic coughed and Kalli snickered. What the bloody hell now?

After a brief lapse of awkward silence, Michael spoke.

“Stand, Rafael Deleon. There’s no need to bow. You’re the one we’ve been waiting for.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re the Chosen Paladin. Rise, or I’ll be forced to join you on one knee.”

His mind spun. But he’d been certain Coby was the one. She was the most dutiful. The most dedicated. She’d never failed a mission. His head snapped up. He refused to hear it. “You’re mistaken.”

“Not a good idea, Rafe,” Dominic warned.

Kalli cleared her throat. “Don’t ever doubt the words of an archangel. Haven’t you learned anything in your four hundred plus years as a Paladin?”

With cautious steps, Rafael stood. “But what about Coby? She’s never failed a mission.”

“Your sister, although brave, still has her own struggles. She’ll have her time. Just not now. Now is your time, Rafael Deleon. Do you accept your fate?” Michael held out the crossbow, a stern gaze etched into his stoic face.

“I will accept any fate, as long as it saves Lucy.” Rafael reached out to take the offered weapon. Even though saddened that it was him and not his sister, a sense of pride still welled in his heart. Poor Coby. She deserved to stand here. His heart fluttered. Coby. What would happen to her? He glanced over to Dominic, who stood in stark silence. What was he thinking?

“What about…” He feared the worst.

“Your sister’s soul is tarnished. But even beneath the thickest coat of dirt, silver still glistens.”

Michael and Dominic exchanged scrutinizing glares.

“As I said, she will have her time.”

Dominic wrenched around and stalked away.

“Don’t forget. Everything happens for a reason.”

Adjusting the quiver and crossbow to his back, Rafael nodded. “I understand.”

“I was speaking to your friend.”

Dominic grunted and nodded. “I understand.”

“Good. I’ll unlock the portal now.” He raised him hands high and threw his head back. In a blinding flash, energy shot from his palms up toward the heavens. “May the lord bless and keep Rafael Deleon and his friends safe and allow them access to the portals to lead them wherever they so choose.”

With a loud whoosh, the clouds split open. Vibrant rays of light came pouring down from the heavens. Bright violets, greens, and blues bathed him and his friends, warming him amongst the cold bursts of wind. He fully expected to hear angelic choruses echoing through the night. Alas, the only things he heard were the beating of his heart and the winds spiraling upward.

Michael, ice and snow circulating around him, unsheathed his sword and held it high. Brilliant rays of light bounced and reflected from the ornately etched blade, sparkling around them. Like giant flakes of glitter, the light danced through the air.

“Portals open for Rafael Deleon and his friends, Dominic Duvane and Kalliope of Lesbos.”

Dominic arched a brow.

Kalli growled. “Don’t even go there.”

“Fine,” Dominic muttered.

“Enough chitchat.” With a stern glare, Michael thrust his sword in the air. Sparks flew. Lightning flashed, brightening the dark cloudy sky. Thunder rolled and clapped. In one silent instance, it all stopped. The snow, the wind, the lightning. Everything went still. In a sudden burst of energy, a flickering ring of fire and sparks formed a tunnel. The tunnel that would lead him to Lucy. A tunnel that would help him meet his destiny.

Michael lowered his sword and bowed his head. “’Tis finished. Go, my friends. Rescue Lucy. Send Belial back to Hell. Together, you will save the world.”

Rafael held his head tall. “I will. And I’ll enjoy every minute of it.” He turned to his friends, beckoning them to join him. “Shall we?”

With determined steps, he marched toward the portal. Without a glance back, he stepped in and headed to his fate. No, not his fate. To Lucy—his destiny.

“See how much your precious Rafe cares for you?” Belial dragged her toward the chapel, taking two steps at a time. “He isn’t here to save you, is he?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

He threw back his head and a loud rumble of laughter burst from his mouth. “You keep telling yourself that. He can’t possibly make it here in time. I’ve planned everything so perfectly. This will be the wedding of the millennium.”

“Considering we’re only about ten years into the millennium, that isn’t saying much, is it.”

Belial snarled then allowed his lips to curve into a creepy smile. “You know, at first your sarcastic wit grated on my nerves. Now it’s growing on me.” He ran his fingers down her back to trace along the curve of her ass. “Yes, you’ll make a fine wife. Just a little molding, that’s all.”

“The only thing that will need molding is your face after Rafe rearranges it.”

With a naysaying shake of his head, Belial clucked his tongue. “But he isn’t here yet, is he? Speaking of Rafe, it’s time for you to meet someone.”

Meet someone? What had he done? Who else was left to meet? Her heart plummeted. Coby. His sister. Leave it to the wannabe prince of darkness to hold the ace in his hand. “If you’ve harmed Rafe’s sister, I swear I’ll personally kick your ass.”

“Rafael’s sister?” Belial’s incredulous tone rankled her nerves. His sardonic chuckle drove her further over the edge. “I merely want you to meet my priestess. The one who will officiate our
little
ceremony.”

“Fuck your priestess.”

“Already have… many times.” Belial smirked. “A fine lay, but I’m sure my little succubus bride will be better.”

Her stomach roiled at the thought of Belial and his naked cinnamon and sulfur-scented body anywhere near her. Shivers of revulsion coursed through her body. “I just threw up in my mouth.”

“Very funny. Now move,” he said with a not-so-gentle push inside the chapel door.

Tall, dripping candles lined the walls, casting pale shadows throughout the chapel. At the front of the chapel stood the priestess, cloaked in billowing dark capes. She stood there in stark silence, darkness shrouding her face. The air thickened with a heaviness she couldn’t distinguish. A hard lump filled her throat and her heart constricted. Remorse.

“Priestess, show yourself to my bride-to-be.”

With a slow, submissive nod, she stepped away from the podium and made her way toward her. With the agility of a cat, she weaved through the array of metal folding chairs that were scattered about. And here she was expecting something more demonic.

“I am the priestess.” Her voice, although beautiful, held no life. Like a robot. “I shall perform your wedding rituals.”

“She doesn’t seem too thrilled,
sweetie
.” More waves of revulsion rolled through her. Had she actually said sweetie? She bit her tongue. There was only one man she wanted to call sweetie.

“She’s thrilled, aren’t you dear?”

The priestess nodded. “Indeed, I am.”

“See?” Belial grinned. “Now let’s head back outside. It’s time for us to marry.”

“We aren’t marrying in here?”

“No. This silly chapel has been blessed. The people of Hell are more religious than I realized.”

“Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?”

“On the contrary, my dear. I believe it sucks to be Rafe.” With that, he gave her a violent shove out of the chapel.

What was this fixation with Rafe? Belial was a prince of Hell, and Rafe was a mere centurion in the Paladin forces. She could easily pawn it off on jealousy, but something deep inside kept nagging her. Yes, it was Rafe’s mission to recover the chest, but she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more.

“Definitely won’t be getting any husband-of-the-year awards,” she said, catching her balance on the doorjamb. “And what’s with your obsession with Rafael Deleon? You can’t stop talking about him. Are you sure you don’t want a bro-mance instead?”

Belial’s eyes sparked like two demonic ambers, hot and angry. He reached out, wrapped his fingers around her neck, and yanked her to him, sucking the breath from her body. “I’ve never met the man. But as soon as his slow vehicle arrives, we’ll become
very
acquainted.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” She stood tall. Proud. “And then you’ll get his sloppy seconds.”

The winds picked up swirling around them. Warm and humid winds. Steam and vapor sizzled around her. Snow melted. Ice dripped from the trees. Maybe Gerardo had sent for reinforcements. He was smart like that.

“What?” came a screech from the melee of demons, humans and angels. With claws bared, Larissa lunged at her. “How dare you?”

“How dare I? You’re the one to talk. You made no qualms about snatching Josh from me. Sucks that we were already on the outs, though, huh?”

Lizard tongue flicking, Larissa hissed, her scaly palm connecting with Lucy’s face. “I saw the admiration in your eyes. I saw how you still cared for him.”

The winds built, like a giant vortex of hot and steamy air, whipping around them with eager flicks. For some reason, it spurred her on, gave her life.
Rafe
. Her heart thumped in excitement.

“I care for Josh as a friend. There’s a big difference, you know.” Lucy threw back her head and chuckled. “Oh never mind, you probably don’t.”

She fully prepared herself for the physical lash that would soon follow. She welcomed it. She wanted Larissa angry. Instead, Larissa threw back her head and cackled, the sound cracking in her ears. “But I know this, Lucia. Rafael Deleon loved me first.”

Those words sliced into her, filling her with anger. With a deep growl, she lunged at Larissa and wrapped her fingers around her slender throat. Boiling rage bubbled inside her as she tightened her grip. The bitch had put Rafe through so much. She deserved to suffer.

“Yes,” she gasped out, her smile remaining. Of course she’d be into that kinky shit. “Anger, mmm. Yes, Rafael loved me first.”

The humid winds swirled and spun, creating a cocoon of intense warmth and energy. Calming, relaxing. The familiar scent of peppermint and spice wafted to her nose.

“You’re mistaken,” Rafe’s voice boomed through the mists. “I cannot love a monster.”

The steam fizzled away as Rafe, flanked by Kalli and Nic, burst into action. Reaching into his black leather coat, Nic pulled out a dagger, ready to strike. Rafael grabbed his shoulder, his silver eyes stormy.

“She’s mine.” Even through the snow, Lucy caught the spark in his silver eyes.

Shaking his head, Dominic extracted his arm from Rafe’s hand.

Larissa grinned. “I’m still his,” she hissed in her ear. “I’ll always be his.”

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.

With a muffled murmur, Coby wrapped her arms around Belial’s neck and pressed closer. The bile rose in Lucy’s throat. He’d already sucked out her soul.
What about Rafe? What will he do?

But Rafe stood in place, steely and confident. The only movement was his dark hair flicking with the wind. His reserve kept Lucy balanced. Her own six-foot-four bottle of Prozac. The strangest thing ever. Even as demons, angels, and humans collided, she remained still. Confident. Complete.

Alas, not all of them were so lucky. “You’ll pay for this!” Nostrils flaring, Nic bared his teeth. With a crazed gleam in his eyes, he swung his sword like a wild Norse berserker.

“Nic, no,” Rafe breathed, reaching for his friend.

With an angry growl, Nic wrenched his wrist from Rafe’s grasp and charged toward Belial. “Don’t you care for your sister?”

Rafe reached out to hold Nic back. “Of course I do.”

“Prove it. Destroy Belial.”

“Anger isn’t the way.”

“You coward.” Nic sneered and lunged toward Belial.

Both Rafe and Lucy dove for Nic. Without a backward glance, he kicked them away.

Belial shrugged and turned toward Rafe’s sister. “Jacoba, darling. Protect me.”

“Yes, my master,” her voice, haunting yet anguished, burned in Lucy’s ears. Palming a long jewel-hilted dagger, she spun toward Nic. A brief flicker of recognition flashed in her eyes, only to be replaced by stony indifference. She kept the weapon trained on him.

Nic stopped dead in his tracks. “Coby, no.”

“Do it,” Belial ordered, his voice commanding. “Show them who you serve.”

With that, the dagger sailed through the air, faster than she’d ever seen any weapon thrown before. Nic’s gasp cracked through bitter cold and shattered the air into a million pieces. Glancing down at the dagger now firmly implanted in his chest, he stumbled backward, confusion and sadness etching his face. “Why?” he managed with a soft groan. With that he fell to the ground and vanished into a puff of ice and smoke.

“I had to do it.” Her words, although succinct, held a cryptic edge. She locked gazes with Rafe. “If you don’t give Belial what he wants, you’ll be next.” With that, she turned away.