Page 80 of Revelations

Tension crackled in the air. Thomas, oblivious to the malignant atmosphere, stood to introduce himself and give thanks to the man for his hospitable wife’s attentions to them. But Greylyn reached out and clamped down on his arm quickly. Confused, he abruptly retook his seat by the fire with his eyes intent on the now empty bowl.

There was something sinister about the man. Greylyn sensed from the fear radiating from the poor woman that he was not a gentle man on a good day, probably abusive, too. But that wasn’t what bothered her. The aura around him was darker than the smoke coming off the fire in the center of the hut. As he threw down his equipment and stomped over to the cowering woman, Greylyn grabbed him by the arm and turned him roughly to face her.

There it was! For a split second, his deep-set eyes morphed from their brown hue to a sickening crimson.

Terrific! Didn’t I just leave this party?

An outright confrontation in the tiny home could possibly injure the sweet woman and/or Thomas, so she steered the possessed man toward the door.

In a stern voice, Greylyn ordered him outside, “…so we can discuss your lovely wife’s hospitality.”

The woman’s face scrunched up with uncertainty. Thomas, now clued in that something was horribly amiss, went about distracting her with broken attempts to ask questions, while gesturing to the various things around the small abode.

Whatever had taken up residence in the Sherpa’s body spit at her, but it did not struggle until they were outside where they were not alone. A mob of men and women in thick fur coats and sturdy hiking boots awaited them; some were locals with weathered tanned skin. Some were clearly tourists in designer outdoor attire, probably on their way to conquer Mount Kailash or the more renowned Mount Everest farther away; all had eyes dark as pools of blood. The harsh wind had picked up, blowing snow all around and obscuring her sight, so that she was unable to see just how many attackers were waiting behind the first group.

“So…” Greylyn did not know what to say. Nothing sarcastic came to mind. “Listen, I’m not sure what the problem is, but I want no trouble with you. My friend and I are just passing through. I’m positive that your boss would approve of letting us go our own way.”

Judging by theway they continued to sneer at her, they might not have even heard her; surely Olivier had not set up another obstacle just for spite.

The man whose arm she still held wrenched himself away and snarled in perfect English. “Guardian, you do not understand. Olivier is not our master. He is the master of nothing.”

Oh, hell! Lucifer!

She had forgotten about him. How had she not anticipated running into him and his forces sooner or later? She had been so wrapped up in thinking that Olivier was the only bad guy, she had completely forgotten about Satan himself.

Of course! Had not Olivier and Gabriel both said that Lucifer didn’t want the prophecy fulfilled? It was the one thing that Heaven and Hell agreed on. Could she really have expected Lucifer to sit this one out?

Greylyn’s eyes darted around, seeking a way out of this situation without shedding a lot of innocent human blood. A mass exorcism would be fantastic about now. There was still a chance that the demons would vacate their bodies, leaving them whole. It was a slim chance. Somehow, she did not expect them all to cooperate. She recoiled at the idea of ending human life, even if it meant killing the demon within. However, as she had learned long ago, sometimes collateral damage was necessary.

With her arms outstretched in front of her in a placating gesture, she took a soothing tone. “Okay, I’m sure your boss and I can work something out peacefully. I don’t want this prophecy thing to happen, either. Why don’t you let me speak to the Big Guy before things go too far here?” Inside, she trembled. Outside, the façade of calm and confidence came off as she had wanted, based on the slight hesitation of the possessed humans and a few confused glances around the group.

Just in case this bet did not pay off, Greylyn slid one hand behind her back to where her dagger rested in its sheath. Luckily, Olivier’s goon had returned it before abandoning them at the base of the mountain. She also said a quick prayer that Thomas remembered to seal the house behind her with a protection spell to keep the demons out. An exorcism incantation would not hurt right now, either.

Even the gale-force wind ceased, waiting for what was to come.

The possessed man at her side howled in a loud, ear-splitting battle cry and the mob descended upon her.

Fighting off a horde of demons was always difficult, even when faced with the lower echelon creatures in their true form. However, fighting a demon mob hiding behind their human exteriors complicated things. There was no clean way to defeat the demons while preserving the human bodies, other than exorcism, which would be near impossible while fending off her assailants. Without that recourse, there was only one way—kill.

Although her heart recoiled as she punched, kicked, and sliced her way through the pressing masses, she knew that there was no other choice. Killing the demons meant killing the humans in which they resided.

Her arms were soaked in blood and gore, the sleeves of her shirt in tattered ruins. Greylyn swiveled on her toes when she caught sight of a group of the tourist-demons going for the small house. An electric shockwave threw the closest ones a good twenty feet once the first one reached the door.

She grinned.Good job, Thomas!At least the house was secure.

Several gloved hands grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her back. Pain ripped through the base of her neck as a mountain climbing pickaxe sliced deeply into her skin. A shriek escaped her lips, followed by a slew of curse words.

Greylyn’s innate instincts kicked in. She swung her dagger around and cut through the first wave of demons that had surrounded her. Fur flew from their thick coats that provided no protection. Her weapon was sharper than any edge manufactured by man. As they fell back clutching their guts, the second line commenced its attack.

Her heart sank at the damage that she had done to the humans, but it was something thatshe wouldhave to put behind her if she intended to live through this fight—which she fully intended to do. There was work to be done and she was determined nottopermit a throng of punk-ass demons to stop her, even if they did work for the one and only Lucifer.

A brutal kick to the back of her knees sent her sprawling onto the hard icy ground. Bodies pressed around her, blocking out all light. Dozens of feet stomped down on her, some with spiked mountain hiking boots.

Screaming in agony as the jagged edges clawed through clothing, skin, and muscle, Greylyn made one last ditch effort to break free of the mob by scissor-kicking out with all the strength that remained. She was rewarded by a tremendous thud as bodies collapsed around her.

Bringing her knees up to her chin and palms flat beside her head, Greylyn somersaulted off the ground with her hands, catapulting to her feet where she assumed a fighting stance—knees bent, hands level with her face, dagger firmly gripped. Blood poured over her right eye, making the gruesome scene even more surreal. Spikes from someone’s hiking boots lodged in her back.

Step by step, she circled around slowly as she assessed the crowd for the most vulnerable.There you are!A young, scrawny man with fair skin and white-blond hair poking out of his North Face toboggan with a spiffy pompom on top—obviously a tourist—would do nicely.

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