Page 5 of The Nephilim's Touch
Poe presses something into the center of my chest. “This will count down. If you’re still a selfish, arrogant prick by the time it reaches zero, you’ll turn to ash. But as soon as youtrulylearn your lesson, this will fall off and disintegrate. May your stubborn ass figure it out before it’s too late. I’m rooting for you.” He slams the heel of his palm and the device clicks into place, causing my flesh to burn and sizzle. “Back to Hex, you go.”
“No.” I grab his arm and hold on tight as he opens the veil between worlds.
“Before I forget. This—” Poe taps the device lodged in my chest. “Drains you of your magic. You can’t heal, can’t teleport, can’t go back to your demon realm home, can’t do anything. Don’t eventryto fly, I’ve hidden your wings. Your magic willonlywork when you’re summoned and then only to complete a bargain. Basically, you’re stuck in Hex.”
Before I can say anything else, he rips my dragon scale medallion from my throat, throws me through the veil, and seals it up behind me.
3
GABE
I’m justabout to my apartment building when the wind picks up and whistles in the trees. I clutch my purchases close to my chest as my heart pounds and sweat beads on my brow. Something isn’t right.
Blinding white light flashes in front of me and I stumble back, trying to keep my footing, but it’s no use. Something blue tumbles into me, knocking me flat on my ass and stealing my breath. I’m squashed beneath a hard body with horns precariously close to my eyes. See, Iknewmy feather would bring trouble, and here it is!
“Are you okay?” I squeak out as I pat a shoulder. There’s blood coming from somewhere. They don’t move and I do my best to push them off me.
It takes me a few minutes to get my bearings and push to my knees. The demon sprawled on the ground is stunning despite all the blood. The only clothing they wear is a pair of black jeans. A sculpted chest and abs are on display, and damn, these biceps make me drool. The demon is mostly blue, with spots of what appear to be tan human flesh color. Fangs poke from their slightly open mouth. Long lashes brush their high cheekbones.Short hair tangles in their horns. Their tail is lifeless. Blood leaks from their chest around a strange device that seems to be counting down. It’s a mechanical number display that shows seven hundred and forty, with a second four already halfway leading to three. What’s the significant of the numbers? Blood drips down their side and?—
The blood! It’s not stopping.
“Hey. Uh.” I reach for the strange counting disk in their chest. Maybe it comes off?
My fingers dance along the metal edge, looking for a way to wedge it away, but it doesn’t budge. At least their chest rises and falls with their breath and they don’t seem too distressed if you discount the whole being out cold part.
“Hey.” I snap in their ear, trying to get a response and nothing. Cringing, I resort to a sternum rub, hoping for something and get nothing. I hate the idea of leaving them on the road. It’s just not safe, even if they are a demon.
My apartment is mere feet away. I look from the door to the demon and back.
“We can make it. Probably.” As long as I use magic, anyway. There’s no way I’ll be able to pick up this massive demon without it. I contemplate the demon, taking in every inch of them. What’s the best way to drag them? The arm pits probably.
My cheeks blaze as I check the perimeter before digging my feather from my pocket and placing it in the waistband of the demon’s jeans. It’ll give me the boost I need to try this. I take a deep breath and focus on the tips of my fingers, willing my magic to flow. With my wings packed away, it’s a little harder than if they were free, but I concentrate the best I can. My fingers tingle and when they glow white from the second knuckle down, I send my magic to the feather, wrapping around it, then around the demon like some intricate magical shibari.
“Light as a feather, stiff as a board,” I chant softly and the demon stays rigid while I push to my feet, bringing them with me. I’ve found using kid games helps a lot in situations like this. I used Ring-A-Round-The-Rosie to trap a zombie some necromancer sent after me a couple years ago. Not exactly fun times.
Thankfully, I live on the ground floor in a two-story apartment building. I don’t exactly want to explain why I’m levitating a demon as I dig my keys from my pocket. My eyes dart to my fallen purchases. I’ll have to retrieve them after I get the demon settled.
Once I get the door open, I pull the demon through sideways with a bit of grunting. My feather starts to turn gray and I have to move fast if I don’t want to drop the demon in the middle of my apartment. My couch won’t do. They’re still too big for my bed, but it’s my best option. I tug on my magic until we’re around the corner and into the hallway. But I’m losing them. They’re no longer stiff as a board. Even as I continue to chant, their body loosens and they get so much heavier.
“Come on, just a few more?—”
My feather disintegrates and my magic fails. The demon falls awkwardly in the doorway of my bedroom.
“Well, shit,” I mumble and stare. I’m trapped in my room unless I want to try and leap over the demon and I’d rather not accidentally fall right on top of them. There’s no way I can get them completely through the door on my own.
The alarm on my phone goes off. Shit. Work. I fish my cell from my pocket to text Pike.
Gabe: I have a bit of a situation. I think I need help.
Pike: Sure, what can we do?
I nibble my bottom lip and take a picture to send to Pike, so he doesn’t think I’m making this up.
Gabe: A demon situation?
The demon’s still asleep and thankfully breathing. Can demons die? I tip my head, taking them in. They’re ridiculously handsome and I hope they wake up soon because I want to know what their voice sounds like.
“Where the fuck?—”
