Eve of Destruction (7 page)

Izzie rolled her eyes and stomped on the bug with her Dr. Martens. “It is dead,” she said in a tone made gruffer by her German accent. “You can quit screaming now, please.”

“I am not staying in a place infested with bugs!” Laurel cried.

“I told you this place was cocked up,” Edwards said. “I brought some insecticide.”

“We do not kill God’s creatures,” Gadara admonished.

Claire snorted. “Are you certain they aren’t Infernal
creatures? I believe cockroaches and mosquitoes are demon spawn.”

“They are moving out, Ms. Dubois. Give them a few minutes and they will find another home in the area to occupy.”

Richens shoved his hands into the front pouch of his hooded sweatshirt. “We’re truly holing up here?”

“Yes, we truly are. Gentlemen in the duplex on the left, ladies to the right.”

“I hope none of you snore,” Izzie muttered.

“Why can’t we stay in the nicer neighborhood?” Laurel asked.

“For the ladies’ benefit?” Romeo added.

“And scare the noobs with our mad ways?” Ken scoffed.

“Mr. Callaghan is correct.” Gadara walked to the rear of the van and opened the back doors. “Our hours will be erratic, we will often be armed, and we are an eclectic group. We want to attract Infernals, not mortal curiosity.”

“I wish I could stay,” Alec said. “Sounds like fun.”

Eve looked at him. He offered a reassuring smile and she made an effort to return it. Although she had never in a million years imagined the scenario she presently faced, there was no point bitching about it. It was what it was. She would just have to make the best of it.

“Yeah, right,” Richens grumbled, picking up his backpack and hefting it over his shoulder. He hit the back of a guard who was unloading equipment from the Suburban. “Sorry, bloke. Unintentional.”

Ken collected his duffel. “Yer a lot of feartie-cats. I’m chuffed o’er this holiday.”

“Of course you are,” Claire said. “You are insane. Hand me the burgundy bag,
s’il vous plaît.”

Returning to her car, Eve hit the trunk release on her remote and rounded the back to get her duffel bag. Alec beat her to it, whipping around her and catching the handle before she could.

His gaze met hers. “You know I always have my cell on me. Call me anytime, no matter what the hour.”

The last thing Alec needed while moving in for a kill was to be distracted by a phone call. She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me. You just take care of business and come back in one piece.”

“You gonna miss me, angel?” he purred.

She smiled in answer. She felt the same way about Alec as she did about her training—she was afraid to commit herself too fully to either. Lose one, lose them both. He was a fixture in her life only as long as the mark was, and keeping the mark wasn’t an option. Marks lived outside the normal order of man. They couldn’t die of natural means and they couldn’t create life. Eve wasn’t prepared to accept that.

But those were concerns for another day. Right now, a man she cared deeply for was heading into danger.

“Of course I’ll miss you,” she said. “Be careful.”

“Listen.” He set his free hand atop her shoulder. His eyes were hot, his mouth firmly set. “You’re a natural. I know Raguel hasn’t bothered to tell you that, but you are. You have an innate talent.”

“I got killed!”

“But not before you sent the dragon back to Hell,” he reminded. “You know how few Marks can make that claim? I’m probably not supposed to tell you this. In mentor training, they’ll most likely tell me to tell you to follow the rules. But I’m telling you to follow your gut, you hear me?”

Eve stared up at him, arrested by his intensity. “Follow my gut?”

“Yeah.” Alec tapped a blunt fingertip against her temple. “And your head. You’re a smart cookie, angel. Fuck the rules and go with your instincts.”

She nodded. He kissed the tip of her nose. “And miss me. A lot.”

A moment later, he was pulling away from the curb and she was left alone with her classmates. Eve trudged up the drive, steeling herself for a week of being emotionally isolated.

Ken was shutting the rear doors of the van when she joined the rest of the group at the end of the driveway.

“Divide by gender,” Gadara said, “and begin preparing the homes for habitation.”

“Where are you going?” Laurel asked, frowning.

Gadara’s brows rose at her tone, but he replied calmly, “To the commissary.”

“You need to be military to shop in the commissary,” Edwards advised.

“I have clearance, Mr. Edwards.”

“He’s an archangel,” Izzie muttered, “not an idiot.”

“Sod off.”

Eve smiled at the exchange, but her merriment faded when she caught Gadara’s gaze.

“Ms. Hollis. Please ensure that things flow smoothly in the women’s quarters. There are air mattresses over there.” Gadara pointed at the pile of equipment in front of the garage.

Laurel scowled. “Why is she in charge?”

“She is the only one of you to have actual field experience.”

“Yeah, and she got the shit kicked out of her.”

The class didn’t know that she had died, Eve realized with some surprise, which made her wonder if her resurrection was a big secret.

Gadara’s dark eyes took on a warning gleam. “Humor me, please, Ms. Hogan.”

Laurel shot an arch glance at Eve. Romeo set his arm around her waist and murmured in her ear.

Eve’s chin lifted. Of course Gadara would stoke the animosity. From the beginning, he’d made her marking as difficult as possible. It was his way of keeping Alec under his thumb.

“Mr. Edwards.” The archangel turned away. “Please oversee the arranging of the men’s quarters, especially the kitchen. We will begin dinner preparations when I return.”

“Are we hunting tonight?” Ken asked.

Gadara shook his head. “No. Tonight is about settling in and preparing for tomorrow.”

“Then we better get started,” Eve said before heading toward the ladies’ side. The other women fell into step behind her.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon, streaking the sky with jeweled hues. The view was breathtaking, and Eve paused on the small cement porch step to take it in.

“Maybe it won’t be so dodgy here after all,” Laurel said.

“Maybe,” Eve agreed, hoping that was true.

The comfortable stillness was shattered by the howl of a wolf in the distance. A chill coursed down Eve’s spine.

“There are wolves at the beach?” Claire asked in a whisper.

“
Were
wolves,” Izzie corrected grimly.

As the color of the sky took on the hue of blood, Eve’s enjoyment in its beauty fled. The evening air took on an ominous, oppressive weight.

They were out there. Infernals. Waiting, as the Marks were, for orders to kill. They passed their time toying with mortals, leading them to the edge of Hell, then shoving them over.

Eve pushed open the unlocked door and gestured for the others to enter to safety before her. “Let’s get inside.”

“G’day, mates.”

Reed smiled at the Aussie greeting. “It’s past midnight.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Les Goodman said, gesturing them into his small but well-kept house in Victoria Park. As the Australian handler who’d
witnessed the most recent attack by their mystery Infernal, he was the reason Reed and Mariel were Down Under. He’d been tied up with the formalities that followed a Mark killing and had finally called Reed to come over about thirty minutes ago.

“I wanted to record my report while everything was still fresh in my mind,” Les explained as they moved into a comfortable living room furnished with brown leather furniture and sturdy wooden pieces. “Not that I will ever forget, mind. I’ll have nightmares about what happened to my Mark forever.”

“Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr. Goodman,” Mariel said. “We wish we were here under happier circumstances. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Call me Les, please.”

Mariel wore a loose floral dress and coordinating blue sweater, which gave her a casual and approachable air. Her wild flame-red hair, however, was pure seduction, but Les didn’t appear to be affected as most single men were.

“You know Abel, of course,” she said.

Les extended his hand to Reed. “Yes, of course. Welcome, Abel. It’s an honor to have you here.”

Reed accepted Les’s handshake, noting the strength and confidence conveyed by the
mal’akh
’s grip. Les was blond, his skin darkened and weathered by the sun, his appearance arrested to look as if he was somewhere in his midforties. Grief weighed heavily upon his broad shoulders and bracketed his mouth and eyes with deep grooves of strain. Such physical manifestations of emotion were rare in
mal’akhs
and
were only caused by the loss of a beloved. Les’s Mark had meant a great deal to him.

Affairs sometimes formed between Marks and their handlers, since they shared a connection that transcended the physical. A Mark could share fear and triumph and a handler could reassure and offer comfort across many miles. Also conducive to work-related romance were the isolated lives led by Marks and the lure of their Novium, which was brought on by the thrill of their first hunts. Even
mal’akhs
weren’t immune to a Mark awakening to full power.

“We appreciate you taking the time to answer our questions,” Reed murmured, thinking of Eve and his own growing connection to her. God help him when her Novium hit, which would happen soon after she finished training and began hunting in earnest.

He glanced at his Rolex. It was early evening in California. She would be in Monterey now. By the end of the week, she would be three weeks away from graduation.

Les’s jaw tightened. “I’ll do anything necessary to catch that demon. I’ve never seen anything like what happened to Kimberly. I pray I never see anything like it again.”

“Did you see the Infernal?” Mariel asked in a soothing voice.

“Yes.” A haunted look came to the handler’s blue eyes. “It was built like a brick shithouse. Nearly six meters in height and two meters wide at the shoulders.”

Reed looked at Mariel with both brows raised. She had described the demon far differently.

The high-pitched whistle of a teakettle came from the back of the house. Les motioned them to follow him.

“Come along.” His booted steps thudded heavily across the hardwood floor. “We’ll talk in the kitchen.”

They settled around a scuffed linoleum-topped table. Les turned off the gas stove and poured boiling water into a waiting teapot. His domesticity contrasted starkly with his rugged appearance—worn flannel shirt, faded jeans, and large belt buckle.

“The Infernal I saw,” Mariel began, “was a little over seven feet tall, nowhere near as large as the one you describe.”

Les set the pot on the table, then returned to the counter to retrieve a paper bag. He shook the contents—scones—onto a plate.

“Well, here’s the thing.” He glanced over his shoulder at them. “It wasn’t that big before it killed my Mark.”

Reed’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He withdrew it quickly. He normally kept the damn thing off, but with Eve in training he wanted to be accessible. Glancing at the caller ID, he cursed silently.
Sara.
He hit the button that sent the call to voicemail.

Sarakiel was both an archangel and his ex-lover. She helmed the European firm, her flawless angelic features fueling the sales of the multimillion-dollar Sara Kiel Cosmetics empire. She was also on his shit list, so he had been avoiding her calls for the last few weeks. That wasn’t going to change right now.

“You’re saying the Infernal grew in size?” Reed asked, returning his full attention to the conversation.

“Yes.” Les set out three teacups, then pulled out a spindle-backed chair for himself.

“Did you witness the attack?” Mariel asked.

“Just barely. If I’d blinked, I would have missed it. The blooming thing was fast. Impossibly fast. It rushed at Kim in a blur. Ran on all fours—fists and feet to the ground. Almost like an ape, but graceful like a canine. Kim screamed and the Infernal leaped into her open mouth, just disappeared inside her. I couldn’t believe it. By the time I figured out what happened, it was over.”

“What did happen?” Reed asked the question, but he already knew the answer.

“She . . .” Les swallowed hard. “She
exploded.
But it was wrong. All wrong. What was left behind . . . there wasn’t enough. There wasn’t enough
of her
. No bone, no blood . . .”

“Just muscle and skin,” Reed finished, declining Les’s silent offer of tea.

“Yeah, that’d be right. So where does everything else go?” Les poured two servings of tea, his hands visibly shaking. After he set the pot down, he looked between Mariel and Reed. “I think the Infernal absorbed the rest. That’s how it grew.”

Mariel accepted the cup Les handed to her. “Were you responding to a herald?”