Page 44 of The Nephilim's Touch
“Dunno about that, but I’ll take it.”
17
GABE
There’ssomething flaming on my doorstep when I open the door to head out for work.
“Van? Do you know what this is?” I call out. “Is it a demon ritual of some sort?”
He joins me with duster in hand, and he looks over my shoulder. “Fuck. Don’t touch it.”
“What is it?” I squat to get a closer look. It appears to be a disk with something written on it, but I don’t know the language.
“A calling card of a demon I pissed off in the Hellrealm.”
My stomach twists. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I may have humiliated him in the ring.”
“Ring?” I cock a brow.
“Fighting ring. Was the only way I could stay hidden from Poe.”
“Not following.” I stand to meet his gaze.
“The short of it…. I needed a charm to keep me hidden when I got summoned to my crossroads, so I hired a Hellwitch to make the charm but didn’t have money, so I was their pit fighter for the last year before Poe found me. Never lost. I imagine someone wants a rematch and finally discovered where I am.” Van looksaround. “Got any salt? It’ll neutralize the magic and make it safe to touch.”
I rush to the kitchen to grab the salt shaker from the cabinet. “All I got.”
“It’ll do.” Van unscrews the top and pours it over the disk, making it sputter until the flames go out. “Still, don’t touch it.” He nudges it with his toe. “I’m coming with you to work today.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Probably?” He shrugs. “It could be a prank, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
“Smart. Tell me about these fights?”
“Not much to say. It’s like dog fights, but with demons and Hellwitches instead of animals. Some were fights to the death, but I never participated in those because my Hellwitch wanted me alive to keep fighting.”
“You don’t think it’s the Hellwitch wanting you back?”
“Nah. He was satisfied with my performance and wouldn’t come after me. I more than paid for the charm.”
I nod as I press a hand to his chest. “I haven’t seen you wear a charm.”
“Poe took it,” Van grinds his teeth. “When he sent me to Hex.”
“Which wasn’t a bad thing, right?” I ask, tugging on his shirt to pull him down.
“No, it wasn’t.” He presses his lips to mine, and I melt into his embrace. His tail wraps around my arm. “You’re the best thing to come out of all this. Well, and I think Wick isn’t so angry at me anymore.”
“I have a question I’ve been meaning to ask.” But never felt right asking.
“I’ll answer you anything.”
“What caused you to start breaking the crossroads rules?”
A hint of a smile lifts his lips. “Someone picked on Wicky and I lost it. We’re not allowed to fight among ourselves, but I was eleven, Wick was four. Some asshole a few years older than me started mocking Wick and his feathered wings. While we joke that he may be part angel, we don’t mock him for it. Feathers don’t mean angels.”
