Page 55 of The Nephilim's Finesse

She held out her hand, unimpressed by his tantrum. “Fifty quid. Maybe you shouldn't underestimate women in the future.”

He turned an ugly shade of puce, sputtering in rage. When it became clear Azariel wouldn’t back down, he dug a few crumpled notes out of his pocket and slapped it into her palm.

She stood up and grinned, waving the fifty quid. “Food is on me!”

Charlie shook her head at Azariel, unable to hide her grin. "Was that really necessary?"

She shrugged, unrepentant. "Maybe next time he'll think twice before underestimating his opponent."

We wandered over to the food trucks, the smells of frying oil, spices, and grilled meat wafting through the air. My stomach rumbled in anticipation as we looked over the options. Azariel nudged me, nodding toward a truck advertising authentic Mexican street tacos. "You know, those are my weaknesses."

I chuckled, steering us in that direction. "And here I thought your weakness was those spicy mango margaritas."

"Why choose only one weakness when I can have both?" Azariel smirked, already pulling out her wallet.

We ordered our food and drinks, finding an empty picnic table to sit at. I took a bite of my adobada taco, the marinated pork melting in my mouth. "Mmm, so worth the heartburn later."

Azariel popped the lid off her margarita, the scent of tequila and mango juice filling the air. She took a healthy swig before continuing. "This festival turned out way better than I expected. Did you see that giant animatronic dragon they had set up?"

"How could I miss it?" Andrew shook his head. "Though I'm still not sure how they got the permits to have an actual fire-breathing dragon, animatronic or not."

"Where there's a will, there's a way." Charlie grinned, licking salt from the rim of her glass of margarita.

Mike leant back, looking up at the stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky. "We always have the best adventures together, don't we?"

Azariel bumped her shoulder against his, her eyes soft. "The very best. Here's to many more."

We clinked our glasses together, smiles lingering as we enjoyed the rest of our meal under the twinkling lights of the festival.

John had got up to chat with Hazel, the witch that could freeze her enemies to death, as she waited in line for a burrito, his fingers drumming against his leg in a nervous tic. He had hit on her several times, but I estimated that he wouldn't succeed this time either. When Hazel had been handed her food, she gave us a quick wave before disappearing into the crowd to join her friends.

The fae Trevan and Blaze strolled by, and we exchanged greetings. When we were nearly done with our food, Andrew nudged my arm and nodded toward a group of newcomers milling near the entrance. "Check out those costumes. That demon looks straight out of Diablo."

There were about ten newcomers dressed as vampires and about the same amount as demons. I reached out with my senses, reading the visitors' auras. A sickly yellow glow enveloped the vampires while the demons were cloaked in a deep violet shroud of power.

"Bloody hell, those aren't costumes," I said grimly.

The others turned around to inspect the visitors. Azariel cursed under her breath, her amber eyes flashing. “These are no lower minions. Look how thick their aura is.”

The thicker the aura of a magical being, the more powerful they were. Even carefree Mike sobered at the implications, his usual mischievous grin fading.

Charlie grabbed Andrew's arm, her glasses askew. "There are so many humans here. This could end badly."

“We should stay close.” I stood, and the others followed suit, steel entering our gazes. We were outnumbered, but we were Nephilim. We wouldn't back down from a fight.

The vampires and demons entered the exhibition hall and began to spread through the crowd, looking for unsuspecting fae and witches. We followed right behind them. The first vampire descended on a witch, and screams filled the air as the supernatural creatures attacked, chaos erupting around us. We stormed into the fray, a whirlwind of wings and righteous fury.

Azariel grabbed a vampire by the throat and flung him across the room. He crashed into a table, the wood splintering under his weight.

John punched a hole through a demon's chest, black ichor spurting from the wound. The creature let out a strangled shriek before collapsing into a lifeless heap.

I saw that the other magical beings either ran away and hid as they were too weak to fight, or they joined us and stood their ground.

Trevan and Blaze fought back-to-back, a perfectly synchronised duo. Trevan snapped a vampire's neck while Blaze plunged a dagger into another's heart. John had produced two crescent moon knives, hidden in his costume, severing flesh as he tore through enemy ranks. Hazel conjured balls of ice, hurling them at any demon or vampire within range. Mike duelled with a vampire, his silver knives flashing through the air. He opened a gash across its throat, and it stumbled away, clutching at the fatal wound. It was chaos.

I grabbed a demon by the horns and smashed its skull against the floor. Bones crunched, and the thing went still. The acrid scent of sulphur and blood hung thick in the air as I plunged into the havoc.

Azariel was a blur of motion to my right, her eyes glowing with fury as she ripped through the horde. "There are too many of them!" she snarled, punching a vampire so hard he flew into the brick wall. The crunch of bone was audible even over the din of combat.

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