The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3 (52 page)

I watched his retreating back and saw Kieran talking with him earnestly before she gave him a quick, hard hug
. I guess that is the beauty of being Linked; staying mad at each other was next to impossible
, I thought, standing up to seek out my own Link.

Mark met me halfway across the room, grabbing onto my hand. We walked down to his, room that he was sharing with Shawn and Robert. "You okay?" He asked pulling a blanket up over me as I settled against the pillows on his bed.

"Yeah, I feel a lot better. Sooooo, I hear you were my knight in shining armor tonight," I said playfully.

"Just put it this way, I can't handle seeing someone yell at you like that. They may be older, and perhaps wiser, than us, but they are not our bosses," he said. "It's okay, though. John apologized and I'm fine with that as long as it doesn't happen again," he said, lying
next to me on the bed and tucking my head under his chin. I snuggled close to him loving the body heat he provided. My eyes drifted closed, exhausted from my foray into the ocean and its aftermath. Sinking deeper into sleep, I smiled in my dream knowing Mark would be joining me soon.

But he never came. I was all alone. Jerking awake, I sat up blinking in the darkness. I knew instantly that something was terribly wrong.

I rubbed my tired eyes trying to make sense of how I knew something was wrong, and then I felt it hit me like a Mack truck.

Evil had entered our refuge.

I reached over and shook Mark awake. I placed my finger on my lips to silence his questions. Reading my expression and my thoughts, he knew instantly what I was silently telling him. Surging to his feet in one fluid movement, he reached a hand down to pull me to my feet with the same precision.

We crept to the door as quietly as possible, listening for any foreign noises outside the room. The door burst open, knocking us backwards as two Daemons wearing the bodies of two burly men charged into the room.

The force of the door sent me flying backwards and I landed in an ungraceful heap on the bed. Feeling disoriented from my flight through the air, I frantically sat up searching for Mark. One of the Daemons lunged at me, but Mark was there quickly, sending the Daemon smashing into the wall. Rolling on the floor, Mark used the hardwood floors of the bedroom to his advantage as he gripped the Daemon by the hair and slammed his head against the ground in a crushing blow.

The other Daemon used Mark's preoccupation to advance on me, obviously well coached on their task to take out the Guides.
Scrambling off the bed, I scooted down the wall and snatched the slim wrought iron lamp off the dresser, jerking the cord out of the socket in the process. I backed into the corner preparing for the Daemon approaching with dead eyes. I fought the urge to scream as his grubby hands reached for me, but grasped empty air as Mark jerked him away from me and threw him across the room. The Daemon crashed against the dresser, taking the shelves that lined the wall down with him. The Daemon rose to his feet, incensed from his airborne flight across the room and charged Mark like an enraged bull.

I felt helpless huddled in the corner while Mark fought him, but Haniel's instructions had been clear. As Guides, we were expected to stay out of harm's way. It was hard to see who had the upper hand as they exchanged blows. I watched horrified as Mark's head slammed against the wall. He stood up facing the Daemon, swaying
slightly,
it was obvious he was winded from the blow he had taken. His hits looked less precise and more sluggish.

Watching him struggle, I began to doubt Haniel's words. What good was I to Mark, huddled in the corner like a helpless waif? Grasping the lamp more firmly in my hands, I charged the Daemon, striking the back of his head with as much force as I could muster.

My attack did little more than distract him for a moment, but it was all Mark needed as he took the Daemon out with a well executed kick to this windpipe. Grasping his throat with one hand the Daemon staggered and landed on his knees. Mark used his bent elbow to slam into his temple sending the Daemon sprawling in a heap at his feet.

Dropping the lamp, I rushed to Mark's side. I ran my hands down him searching for an injury.

"Krista, I'm fine," he said crushing me to him. "Are you okay?"

Stepping back, I surveyed him and was surprised that he was right. Except for a small cut in the corner of his mouth, he looked fine. "I'm alright too," I said as I used the pad of my thumb to wipe away the blood on his chin.

Mark grabbed my hand and together we silently stepped out of his room. The house was
pitch
black as we slowly made our way down the hallway. I anxiously wondered where my friends were. I wanted to shout a warning to them, but knew that we needed stealth on our side until we could get our bearings. We heard a soft thump in the second guest room to our left. Mark put his hand on the knob and twisted at the same instant that he threw the door open.

I was unprepared for the sight that met my eyes and felt sour bile burn its way up my throat.

The curtains on the window were torn down, allowing enough moonlight into the room to illuminate a crumpled female body on the floor and two bloodied Daemons in a heap by the window. A third Daemon stood towering behind someone who was down on his knees. The Daemon's hands were knotted in the Protector's hair to maneuver him where he wanted him to go.

The Protector hung lifeless with all fight gone from him. His hands reached weakly for the body that was crumpled on the floor as anguished tears poured from his eyes. My blood turned to ice when I saw that it was Thomas.

Mark's outrage came out as a warrior cry. He battered the monster in the gut with a deadly foot, forcing him to let go of his victim. Grief like I had never felt before flooded through me as I watched Thomas crawl toward the limp body on the floor. My head did not want to make the connection of who the crumpled body was. There was no need to check for a pulse. Thomas's cries of heartbreak made it clear his Link was gone.

"No!" I yelled.

Not my Grace, not my sweet loving Grace that brought sunshine to every room she entered. My heart shattered into a million pieces as I watched Thomas curl up on the floor beside her, dragging her lifeless body into his arms. Haniel's words from long ago ran through my head,
Protectors cannot live without their Guides.

It seemed so unfair that Thomas had fought
valiantly,
taking out two Daemons of his own and had still lost his very existence for living.

I turned my anger toward the monster that had done this, but saw I was too late, Mark had already stopped him. The body of the Daemon lay in a heap on the floor. Mark grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room. I wanted to dig in my heels and stop time.

I wanted a do-over.

I didn't want my new, wonderful friend to be dead. Sensing my resistance, Mark dragged me from the room, leaving Thomas to his grief and ultimately his own death.

The house was no longer quiet as we emerged from the room, I could hear the sounds of crashing and flesh meeting flesh as the Protectors fought for us. I could hear weeping further down the hall, but would not allow myself to think about who it might be. I did not want to know who else we had lost.

We cautiously continued our slow journey down the hallway. We were near the end when a hand reached out of Mark's dad's room, snatching me by the hair and dragging me into the room. Yelping in pain, I tried to twist away from the Daemon that held me. Mark charged after him, missing the second Daemon that had been waiting in the room.

They had set the trap and we had walked right into it. I watched, horrified as the ambushing Daemon punched Mark in the face knocking him to the ground. The Daemon stood over him kicking him in the ribs. I could hear the crunch as one of Mark's ribs obviously broke. I fought screaming to escape the death grip I was being held in. The Daemon pummeling Mark looked me in the eyes, smiling as he aimed another kick at Mark's exposed head. Mark's hand snaked out, grasping the Daemon by the heel, using his momentum against him by forcing the leg up and unbalancing him.

The Daemon holding me saw that Mark had gained the upper hand. Releasing my hair, he twisted my arm behind me, attempting to propel me to the other side of the room. He stumbled over another body I had failed to notice. I would not allow myself to look down. I did not want to see if it was one of my own.

Anger rose up in me at the injustice of the situation.

I could smell his rank breath and dirty unwashed clothes as he held me captive. His arm snaked around the back of my neck and I knew he planned to snap my neck while Mark watched. The Daemons knew exactly how to destroy our Links. I watched with helpless eyes as Mark finished off the Daemon and turned toward us. He caught my thoughts and saw the position that the Daemon held me in.

"Go limp!"
Mark's urgent thought flashed its way through my mind, and without hesitating I did as he instructed. I dropped my legs out from under me causing the Daemon to momentarily lose his grip on me. Embracing the opportunity, I squirmed out of his grasping hands and landed on the floor on my hands and knees. I could feel hands blindly reaching for me as I attempted to crawl away from him. Mark was on him before he could reach me and knocked him away from me. I stood up on shaky legs backing up toward the doorway, trying to stay out of the way.

I heard Sam cry out behind me. Turning immediately, I fled from the room. I made my way down the short hallway as best as I could and skidded to a halt at the kitchen doorway where Sam and Shawn were battling two of their own monsters.

I watched, horrified, as the Daemon holding Sam captive jerked her up, with one hand wrapped around her slender throat. His intentions were plain. No longer caring about Haniel's instructions, I slid across the smooth surface of the table that had been shoved in the way. I reached a hand up and grasped a heavy cast iron skillet from the pot rack that hung above the island. In one swift movement, I slammed the pan into the side of the Daemon's head and he collapsed at my feet.

Sam threw herself into my arms, grasping for breath. "Are you okay?" I asked, stroking her head.

Sobbing, she nodded her head. "They jumped us while we were fixing a snack," she said. "They came out of nowhere," pulling back as we watched Shawn finish off the Daemon he was fighting.

Rushing to Sam's side, he ran his hands down her throat, growling at the bruises that lined her slender windpipe. He shoved the table aside in one mighty push and grasped both our hands, dragging us both back toward Mark's bedroom.

John, Kieran, Paul, and Kim met us in the hallway. "Are you okay?" Kieran asked, embracing Sam and me.

"Yes, but I don’t know where Mark is. I left him when I heard Sam screaming in the kitchen. Have you seen him?" I asked urgently.

"No," she answered. "But we did find Faith and Michael. They're both dead," she said in a broken voice.

My body tensed at her words. "So is Grace," I said, delivering the devastating news to them. Kieran's face dropped and tears flooded over as the ramifications became clear. Her band was now broken too.

"I'm sorry," I said, rubbing my eyes to clear the moisture. Not long ago my grief would have dictated my life, but that seemed a lifetime ago.

Right now my grief would have to wait.

Nodding their heads, we moved on, searching for the others. The house seemed oddly silent. Even the cries of Thomas had died out. I didn’t want to think about the reason behind the silence.

Sam gripped my hand as we left the somewhat safe condition of the hallway and stepped into the living room.

"My God," Sam whispered as we took in the destruction that used to be the living room. Furniture was tossed around as if it was made from plastic and not heavy duty material and solid wood frames. A breeze blew across the room through the French doors that were now missing the glass panes. One of the doors stood at an odd angle, making it creak ominously as the wind blew it back and forth. The massive high definition TV looked like it had imploded from the inside out, with cracks woven across the surface like a complicated spider web. Stepping over the broken glass, we approached the broken French doors as a group. I used my emotional gauge to get a sense of what awaited us beyond the tattered doors. Suddenly, we heard a large splash into the pool outside.

Picking up my pace, I was the first to cross over the threshold onto the patio.

The sight before me took my brain several precious seconds to process. Lynn was penned against the wall of the house by a Daemon while Robert battled another one in the shallow end of the pool. Jaime clawed at the back of the Daemon that held Lynn, while Jacob her Protector, fought a mammoth Daemon that was big enough to give the hulk a run for his money.

I felt panic clawing at me trying to decide who to help first. Finally, I jumped to the aid of my friend penned up against the wall. With Sam by my side we both tackled the Daemon from behind, helping Jaime. I used the pottery urn on the patio table to smash over his head while Sam used a swift kick to the back of his knees, making his legs collapse out from under him.

Lynn gasped for air and fell to the deck.

With adrenaline still pumping through our veins, Sam and I turned to help the others, but saw that Shawn, John, and Paul had beaten us to the punch and had all the Daemons knocked out cold.