Page 1 of Unholy

Chapter 1

Luke

Most children were taught notto fear the night. They were told nothing in the dark could hurt them, that the innate fear they harbored of the unknown was just their imagination.

As a child, Luke Morgan learned the opposite. The night was dark and full of evil, but there was no reason to be frightened. With the right tools, one could learn to protect themselves and others. Adopted into the Paladin Guild of Los Angeles at age two, he grew up knowing the truth. He’d trained all his life to be a warrior for good, clawed his way to the highest rankings of field agents in the guild. He spent his days at HQ training and honing his skills and his nights putting them to use, fighting. It was what he lived for. It was all he had.

Now, he crept from room to room through an abandoned warehouse. The scent of rotting paper and old leather lingered in the air, and a droplet of sweat trickled down his back, soaking into the fabric of his shirt. He’d chased ademon in here, and now it was hiding, waiting for the moment to strike. His holy blade was a comforting weight in his hands, gleaming in the low light that filtered in through the dirty windows. He’d attached a hands-free flashlight to his tactical vest, and swirls of dust twinkled in the light’s narrow beam.

Up ahead, quiet shuffling caught his attention. His silent steps slowed, his focus narrowing.

It came from his left, screaming like a banshee as it lunged toward him. The creature, a crex demon, was all skin and bone, pale and emaciated but with the strength of three men. Long, scraggly hair hung in front of its uncomfortably human-shaped face, but it walked on all fours. Spindly fingers ended in razor-sharp talons, swiping at him with dangerous speed.

He dove out of the way, adrenaline burning through his veins. He came up swinging, his blade slicing open the crex demon’s vulnerable belly. Black blood splashed on the concrete floor, and an earsplitting warble left the beast. He pounced while it was down, piercing its side and pinning it to the floor with his knees. It convulsed, its flat black eyes going wide as more blood leaked from its wounds. At an angle so he wouldn’t damage his sword on the concrete, Luke brought his blade down, piercing bone and sinew and destroying whatever the creature had where a heart should be.

It was already decaying as he pulled his weapon free. The blood flaked from the blade, turning to dust as the body collapsed in on itself. It was the one good thing about demons—they disappeared quickly after they’d been killed.

Dusting himself off, he sheathed his sword on his backand traced his steps to the side door he’d kicked open during his pursuit. The crex had leaped through a high window to get in, and glass crunched under his boots as he passed it. Outside, he took a deep breath of the cool night air. The moon was a lopsided orb hanging in the sky. According to his watch, it was nearing three AM. He should probably head back to HQ and call it a night.

He didn’t have a squad to wait for, which was a mixed blessing. After losing his last squad during a patrol gone wrong, he’d talked Sloan into letting him patrol alone. It meant he didn’t have to worry about anyone else, but it also meant he was on his own if something went sideways. It was a risk he was willing to take. Better to be a little lonely than to watch any more of his friends die.

Blowing out a breath, he turned toward the mouth of the alley. He’d chased that demon several blocks. It was going to be a long walk back to his car.

“Impressive,” a smooth voice called from behind him.

Luke whirled, closing his hand around his sword but not drawing it yet.

A man emerged from the shadows beside the broken door and into the golden glow of the streetlights nearby. He wore black skinny jeans tucked into black leather boots, and his abstract band T-shirt with the sleeves cut off revealed pale, muscular arms and lean sides. His glossy black hair fell past his shoulders, with one side shaved and the other side long. There was a slight dusting of facial hair on his chin and under his nose. He had a chiseled face, with high, artful cheekbones and a strong jaw.

His eyes were the most striking thing about him—they were red.

“Halfling,” Luke said, relaxing somewhat. Halflings were strong, but they generally kept to themselves. A few of them were also good for information about the underworld, if given the right incentive to share. Luke had never directly interacted with one before. As far as he knew, they didn’t like to seek fights, and they avoided paladins like the plague. Why was this one here now? Had he been waiting for him?

“I prefer Malachi,” the demon replied, drifting closer.

“I don’t care,” Luke replied.

The demon smiled faintly. “You’ll care when you hear what I have to say.”

“I doubt that.” He backed away. There’d been more hostility than usual regarding halflings lately after what happened with Paladin Hawk. Ex-Paladin Hawk, he supposed.

Three months ago, Alex Hawk was banished from the guild for disobedience and ‘fornicating with a demonic entity.’ It was the first case of its kind in guild history. Since then, things had been tense at HQ. People were confused and angry about Hawk’s motives. He’d grown up in the guild, and his exit felt like a particularly painful betrayal to a lot of people.

Anyone caught associating with a demon was likely to receive equal or even harsher treatment than Hawk had. It wasn’t exactly something Luke wanted to risk.

He cut a hand through the air. “We’ve got nothing to say to each other, halfling.” The sooner he got away, the better.

“There’s a child-killer in the area,” the halfling said.

Luke halted, half-turning to look back at him.

“That seems like the kind of thing a holy warrior would care about.” He affected a shrug. “Unless you’re not as devout as you pretend to be.”

Luke scowled. “Why would you tell me something like that?” This halfling had no reason to help a paladin. It was either a trap, or he wanted something.

His red eyes gleamed in the soft beam of Luke’s flashlight. “Because youdocare about it. Don’t you?”

If it was true, then yes, he did. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

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