Faith Revisited (2 page)

Madelyn Ford

was the least of her problems. An Alu demon—a huge, nasty cross between a human and a bull—had teleported onto the sidewalk between her and Hope. Faith knew they were now well and truly fucked.

Hope's blade whistled through the air, but the Lilu demon pivoted to the right, avoiding near decapitation. Without its intended target to stop it, the dagger continued to fly, spinning as it traveled. It nicked the Alu demon, serving only to further enrage the seven-feet-tall male.

“Son of a bitch!” Faith snapped, ducking just before the wayward knife would have taken off her head.

As the dagger swung back toward its owner, the Lilu demon took advantage of the situation, dissipating before either Faith or Hope could kill him. That left the Alu demon. His nostrils flared in agitation while the tips of the horns shooting out from his temples vibrated, the sound causing Faith to raise her hands to cover her ears. Then the hoofed creature turned to Hope, and with a roar, he charged.

“Fuck! Hope, run!” Faith cried, moving toward the pair, knowing that even with the two of them attacking together, they probably wouldn't stand much of a chance against the beast. She watched in despair as he grabbed Hope's wrist, knocking the dagger from her hand as if it were a useless toy. Hope let out a wail, her wrist snapping under the demon's punishing grip. As her knees buckled from the pain, the demon grabbed her by the neck and lifted her off the ground.

Faith reached the pair and, without thought, embedded her serrated bowie knife into the demon's shoulder. She sobbed in relief when he threw Hope from him, and after slamming into the side of the brick building nearby, Hope slumped to the ground. Faith's respite was short-lived as the demon, yanking the knife from his shoulder, turned his attention toward her.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled, knowing the likelihood of her surviving this encounter was minimal. And if she did survive, her reprieve would last only as long as it would take her father to finish the job.

The demon let her knife slide from his fingers, the clank of it hitting the pavement echoing through the darkened street. Then he reached behind him and pulled out a curved sword from the waistband of his pants. Before Faith could even react, the demon had thrust the blade toward her, piercing her side. As the steel ripped free of her flesh, she clutched at her side, blood flowing over her fingers. Pain lanced through her like a thousand tiny pinpricks. Within moments she began to lose feeling in her legs, and Faith knew something was not right. What she didn't know was that she had been stabbed with the one thing that could kill even an angel—Lucifer's poisoned blade.

* * * *

Something had just teleported nearby. As he inhaled deeply, the faint trace of sulfur teased his nostrils, indicating a lower-level demon was close by. The smallest sound, a snort of an animal, told Bale he was dealing with an Alu. Zeke's intelligence had been correct. The meeting was going down tonight as planned.

As Bale moved out of the shadows, he watched in dismay as a Lilu demon dissipated and two human females stepped into the path of the huge Alu. His mind did not even register the females' lack of response to the creature's grotesque appearance or the weapons within their tight grips. He only saw one hit the ground unconscious as the bastard turned toward the other.

The Watchers: Faith Revisited

3

Pulling his thirty-three-inch Damascus steel sword out from under his sweeping black leather trench coat, Bale stalked toward beast. He did not stop to consider the course of his actions or the fact that he needed information from this demon. Because of the oath he had taken, he had no other option but to interfere.

The Alu stepped away from the other female with a derisive snort. The redhead staggered backward, her hand clutching her side, the metallic tang hitting Bale's nostrils as blood wept from beneath her fingers. He had no time to give any more thought to the female's condition, because at that moment, the bastard spawn of Lucifer and his demon bitch, Lilith, turned toward him.

“What have we here?” the creature asked in a deep, gravelly voice. He grinned, the mouth full of blackened, rotting teeth sickening Bale. “To what do I owe a visit from the Grigori?”

Bale shrugged nonchalantly and raised his sword. Pointing it toward the demon, he widened his stance, preparing for battle. “Your stench was hard to miss.”

The fiend laughed, a sound that caused most to break out in a cold sweat, but there was very little Bale feared about demons. “Well, a little exercise before dinner never hurt anyone.

And once I have dispatched you, Watcher, I shall enjoy the bounty before me. Nothing is tastier than human flesh.”

The demon's comment brought a whimper bubbling up from Faith's lips as she sank to the ground beside her twin. The pain in her side was excruciating. She could feel the poison spreading through her veins, her own blood assisting in her defeat. She knew she was dying, and she forced herself to focus on the newest member of this ill-fated dance. She was beyond saving, but there was still Hope to consider.

Thankfully the male looked like he could hold his own. He was tall—almost as tall as the demon—and by far taller than most vampires. A few of the werewolves she had encountered over the years were of similar height, so she vaguely wondered if he was from one of the local packs. His long black hair was tied back and swung across broad shoulders, which filled out every inch of the leather trench coat he was wearing. Though his back was to her and she could not make out what was underneath the coat, she just knew he would be a prime piece of eye candy.

The pair shifted, and Faith caught a glimpse of the male's profile, her jaw dropping in awe.

He was beautiful, his face exquisitely flawless even though it was clenched tight in anger. Then, as he lifted the sword, her attention drifted to his hands. His long fingers gracefully clasped the weapon as if it were a natural extension of his fingertips. The veins prominently displayed the strength wrapped around the silver and black handle. He didn't wave the sword around but held it steady, his eyes never wavering from the demon.

Faith attempted to remain focused on the pair before her, but her eyesight was clouding.

Blinking quickly several times did little to improve her vision, so Faith gave up the fight, allowing her lids to close.

Bale had felt the female's eyes on him and, with some strange sense, recognized when she had passed out. He also knew within the deepest recesses of his gut that she was dying from more than just the stab wound. How he knew this confused him, but he pushed the thought aside as the demon raised his decorative black and gold khopesh sword. Inhaling, Bale caught the 4

Madelyn Ford

faintest trace of a scent from something he knew should have been impossible for a lower-level demon to procure—the foul essence of the Utukku. Long ago, Lucifer had discovered that the essence from those human souls pledged to do his evil bidding was the only thing that could terminate an angel—or a fallen one. And as the reality of the situation permeated Bale's mind, he realized he had been right all along: there was a traitor within the Grigori. But the treachery went deeper than even
he
had suspected; it had infiltrated his enclave, and Bale swore he was going to make someone pay. But who? The betrayal was sure to destroy them all.

He shoved the question to the back of his mind. There would be time later to come to grips with it all. Right now he just had to get out of this alive. As he eyed the khopesh warily, the demon smiled more broadly.

“Such a shame, wasting good essence on the female.” The demon shrugged. “Oh well.

Guess we'll have to do this the hard way.”

Bale tried to ignore the sense of dismay that flooded his system, unwilling to examine the cause of his inexplicable feeling of dread. Instead he concentrated on the sword the demon held.

He didn't have long to wait until the demon made his move. The khopesh was swung toward him, and with a flick of his wrist, Bale intercepted the lunge, his and the demon's steel blades clanking as they met.

Swords clashed again, Bale blocking the demon's attack and forcing the blade downward as he pulled a dagger from the sheath on his thigh. He slashed at the demon's blade arm, cutting deep. With a hiss, the demon stumbled back, and Bale countered, swinging his sword. The bastard met his advance. Grunting, Bale knocked away the khopesh aimed at his chest, and pivoting, he swung. His sword connected with the demon's neck. His head rolled to the ground, and then both body and head disappeared in a burst of black smoke.

After securing his sword back within its scabbard, Bale approached the two females. Both were still unconscious, for which he could only be thankful. He was going to need Remy, the leader of their band of Watchers, to alter both their memories. He refused to consider that the redhead was not likely to live for it to matter. The urgent need he felt to get her help unsettled Bale, and as he flicked open his phone, he studied her. Her vibrantly colored hair was pulled back, but errant curls that had fallen out during her struggle with the demon framed her pale skin.

He forced his attention away from her face. When fighting the demon, she'd appeared tall for a human female, though not tall enough to reach his chin, and her muscles seemed well conditioned. But what the hell she had been thinking in trying to take on an Alu demon, he couldn't fathom.

Bale let that thought trail as he began to seethe at her sheer stupidity. He wanted to shake her awake, but instead he tentatively probed the female's wound. Blood still oozed from her torn flesh, and he shrugged out of his coat, then yanked his T-shirt over his head. He pressed the shirt against her side with one hand as he stuffed the phone between his ear and his shoulder with the other one.

“Remy,” he said to the voice at the other end, “we have a major fucking problem. I need a pickup immediately.”

“A pickup?” Remy questioned, his voice a mixture of surprise and confusion. “Why aren't you just teleporting to the abbey?”

“I've got two injured females here, one from Utukku poisoning.” Bale's tone didn't lend itself to any arguments, and Remy sighed.

The Watchers: Faith Revisited

5

“All right. I'll send Levi. He's the only one still at the abbey.”

“No. Only you, Remy,” Bale growled, trying to ignore the twisting sensation in his gut.

“What's going on, Bale?” Remy asked quietly. Bale was not given to dramatics, so when he countered an order, Remy paid attention.

“Later. Right now I just need you here. I'm not sure I trust anyone else,” he said harshly.

Remy swore softly. “I certainly hope that does not mean what I think it means.”

“Later,” Bale repeated. “Just make sure Arak is back at the compound. I'll need him to check out the females' injuries.” Bale didn't even wait for a reply before disconnecting the call.

The female's complexion had turned a pasty white, and worry gripped Bale's heart like a fist.

He spoke not a word when, minutes later, Remy pulled up in a black Escalade He left the other female for Remy to deal with as he gently picked up the redhead and climbed into the backseat. Keeping his shirt secured to her open wound, Bale cradled her against his chest, ignoring the questioning glances from Remy via the rearview mirror.

“Damn it, Remy, floor this motherfucker,” he snarled as the female began to convulse in his arms. Bale couldn't even begin to define what the knowledge that she was probably going to perish right there in his arms did to him. Normally he wouldn't care this much. What was the death of one more human? But for some reason, this one was different. He felt it soul deep.

Pulling her closer, for the first time in centuries, he began to pray.

Relief when the truck pulled up to the large iron gates of Castilla de la Vigilia barely counteracted the terror her state caused him to feel, as did the sight of Arak standing in front of the massive stone structure. He heard Remy speaking softly to the other female, trying to rouse her from her stupor, as Bale jumped out of the SUV, and he growled when Arak reached to take away his charge. With a questioning glance, Arak fell in line beside him, only moving ahead to open the front door to the residence. Bale brushed past him and took the steps two at a time, slowing only once he had reached his bedroom.

Bale laid her gently upon the mattress. The convulsions had gotten worse, and he sat next to her, pinning one of her shoulders to the bed with one hand while pressing his shirt firmly to her wound with the other.

“How long has she been convulsing like this?” Arak asked, staring down at the female, concern filling his eyes.

“About ten minutes,” was Bale's clipped response. “Fix her, Arak.”

Arak looked at Bale incredulously. “Fix her?” he repeated, raising a brow at the order.

“She was poisoned with Utukku essence, and you expect me to just
fix
her. Christ, Bale, even
I
can't just make the venom go away.”

“Damn it, I know that. But do something,” he growled in reply.

Shaking his head, Arak tried to push Bale out of his way. When he failed to move him, Arak took a step back and folded his arms across his chest. “If you want me to help her, then move.”

Bale nodded his head and slowly pulled back from the female, but then almost lunged at Arak when he began to remove her clothing. He had to force his muscles to stop, knowing he was acting out of character. Arak, the one with the power to heal most injuries, was the female's only hope. Turning from the bed, he noticed Remy for the first time, standing in the doorway, supporting the other female, a tiny blonde.