Page 22 of Indecent

“It is. You can’t use any of those weapons, though.”

“Why not?”

“They’re infused with hellfire. They burn a human to touch. Demons use them in the Pit.”

Beneath his arm, Daniel shivered and pressed closer. Something akin to a purr escaped Chaol before he could bite it back, but if Daniel heard it, he didn’t react.

As promised, the leather cloak helped mask Daniel’s bright, human soul from demonic senses. Any who got too close would recognize that he wasn’t demonic, but the streets here were quiet and the crowd sparse. Chaol growled at anyone whose eyes lingered, and that was enough of a deterrent to keep curious demons from getting too close.

When a scream split the air, they both stiffened.

“I don’t suppose that’s a normal sound for the city?” Daniel asked.

“Not particularly.” They were too far from the Pit for that to be the cause.

Demons were emerging from the buildings around them, listening intently as the sounds of a fight nearby rose in volume. More screams and shouts filled the air, and from an adjoining street up ahead, demons streamed into view. Their faces were wild with terror, and they ran in all directions. Above, flying demons burst into the air like birds startled from their perch.

Chaol grabbed Daniel’s hand. “Come on.” They would have to pass that street, but if they could get through the crowd, they’d be home free.

Daniel stayed close as they ran into the fray. No one paid him any attention now, too busy fleeing from whatever was happening on the next street over to even notice the human in their midst.

Chaol could see a break in the crowd up ahead when something crashed through the building beside them, sending shattered stone into the crowd. A chunk of rock half his size slammed into him, ripping his hand from Daniel’s, and everything went dark as he fell, rolling and skidding across the bone-cobbled road.

“Chaol!” Daniel screamed, but Chaol couldn’t see him. He couldn’t see anything.

Chapter 7

Daniel

Daniel could see Chaol, sprawled amongst the rubble and the other fallen demons, but he couldn’t get to him. He scrambled over broken rock and touched something scaly that moved under him, toppling him to his knees.

“Chaol!”

The demon raised a hand to his bleeding head but didn’t acknowledge him. Demons of all shapes and sizes scrambled past, shoving carelessly into Daniel as he staggered back to his feet.

Another scream tore through the air, and Daniel glanced toward it—and froze.

Where the two streets intersected, a strange man stood tall, gripping a demon by the throat. He wore a white, gauzy fabric that wrapped around his body and limbs, spattered with black demon blood. Golden sandals adorned his feet. His hair was pale yellow, and his eyes were gold. His lips pulled away from his teeth in a snarl as he pressed his free hand to the demon’s chest, and when he pulled his hand away, a red mist came with it, swirling in the air between them. An agonized scream tore from the demon, thrashing in the stranger’s grip, and he inhaled the smoke into his own body, grinning wildly as the demon went limp. Dead.

He dropped the body without fanfare and turned toward the horrified crowd still trying to right themselves in the rubble.

“Run,” a guttural voice said. “Run!”

All around Daniel, demons clambered to their feet and ran. There was no rhyme or reason to the chaos. Everyone was moving different directions. A knee slammed into Daniel’s side, sending him sprawling, and a heavy foot crashed down on his upper arm, wrenching his shoulder painfully. He yelped, clawing his way to his feet and pushing through the crowd.

“Chaol! Chaol!”

The stranger—the angel—was approaching as Daniel finally spotted Chaol through the crowd. He was upright now, on his knees with one hand pressed to the ground. Black blood ribboned down the side of his face as his gaze lifted, searching the chaotic throng.

“Danny!” he hollered, turning this way and that.

“Chaol!”

Strong hands grabbed his arms, forcefully spinning him around and bringing him face to face with the angel. His eyes weren’t just gold. There were streaks of other colors within them, catching the light. His yellow hair looked silky soft, clean and unblemished despite everything. Did angels sweat? Did they bleed? Had no one else managed to hurt him at all? He didn’t even look winded. He was tearing through the city of demons like a kid with a Lego castle.

Terror seized Daniel’s lungs as the angel yanked his hood back—and stopped.

“Human?” His baritone voice held a musical lilt, but it didn’t sound pleased at all by this surprise.