Jordyn (A Daemon Hunter 1) - Page 43

"Broken nail, broken finger, broken hand, broken arm, or broken neck. The first four can be fixed, the last is irreversible," Haniel reminded him gravely.

I nodded, accepting his words. This speech was nothing new to me. I'd heard it many times before. Above all else, I was to protect myself from injury. One false move and it could've been my neck that was snapped instead of just a nail.

"I still think it was badass," Shawn muttered as they broke up into groups to search the rest of the village.

Haniel stayed behind with me. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke. "You did well."

"OMG, was that a compliment?" I teased, nudging him with my hip. "Thanks for letting me come," I said as my anger over his interference the night before finally melted away. At the moment, Emrys seemed very far away, and not quite as appealing as he had the previous night. I was in my element here. My body hummed from the adrenaline I had used to take out the Daemons. Despite all my gripes about my differences, I freaking loved sending Daemons back to hell in an ashtray.

Haniel and the Guides spent the next few hours coaxing the villagers into returning to their homes. The Guides used their gifts to soothe emotions and help those who were grieving for the family members they had lost during the Daemon occupation. While they were working their magic on the traumatized villagers, the Protectors and I cleaned up the village. We buried the dead and made grave markers for the villagers who had lost their bodies to the Daemons. Burying the dead was not fun. It was a glaring reminder of how fragile humans were and exactly how important our jobs were. My emotions felt tattered and ragged as we gently carried the bodies to their final resting place. The death of innocent people weighed heavily on me, leaving a glaring reminder that this wasn't a game. It was real. I tried to direct my mind on anything but the bodies that we lowered into the ground. I didn't want to think about the horror they had faced without any protection. They needed Protectors who were dedicated to help them, not someone who was fraternizing with a potential enemy. I knew nothing about Emrys with the exception that I thought he was hot, which at the moment seemed insanely shallow. Haniel was right. I had other responsibilities that required my attention.

CHAPTER SEVEN

By the time we left the village the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. Of course, when we reached home, the sun was setting, which was disorienting. Everyone was obviously exhausted from the journey. We all slumped on the furniture in the living room while Krista ordered a half-dozen pizzas.

"I'm going to shower," I said, following Krista into the kitchen as I rolled my shoulders, trying to work out the aches and pains that had developed from the mission.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, just stiff. Probably all the digging. I'm not used to that kind of physical labor," I said, not bothering to hide my grimace.

"That's never my favorite part either," she answered solemnly. "Normally, the guys handle that stuff. I'm sure it was hard to see that," she added. "I'm sorry, sweets."

"It's all good. I'm tough, remember?" I replied glibly, trying to hide how much it had bothered me. "Actually, it was kinda weird. Killing Daemons is one thing, but these were real people. Not that I was the one who killed them, I get that. It's just—it all seemed so final, you know?"

"Experiencing death like that for the first time can be tough for a kid. We sometimes forget that, probably even more now that we've seen you in action," she mumbled, pulling plates and glasses from the cabinet.

"Hey, I'm not a kid," I stated. "I'll be eighteen in two months," I reminded her. "I'm fine," I added forcibly, heading toward my bathroom. I wasn't in the mood to debate my age for what seemed like the millionth time. At times like this it was hard to remember that Mark and Krista were only a few years older than me. Sometimes they acted and sounded like they were a hundred.

The hot water worked wonders on my muscles. It was funny that I could train every day with Haniel and not feel as sore as I did at the moment. I stayed in the shower as long as possible, knowing any longer and someone would show up to "see if I was all right." Holding a towel around my torso, I shuffled back to my room to put on my pajamas.

"So, how'd it go?" a familiar voice asked when I opened my bedroom door.

"Holy shit!" I jumped while trying to hang on to the towel that nearly exposed everything I had to offer. "You asshole, what the hell are you doing in here?" I hissed at Emrys who was leaning back against the plum-colored throw pillows on my bed. "Haniel will shit if he knows you're here," I added, closing the door swiftly behind me.

"Haniel left a while ago. You were in the shower for like an hour. I almost thought you were waiting for me to join you," he drawled, crossing his ankles.

"You wish. Now get your feet off my bed," I demanded, trying to regain control of the excitement that raced through me at the sight of him. My resolve from earlier disappeared like smoke in the wind. I couldn't remember the reasons I had come up with as to why I shouldn't like him. "That may be, but the Guides are going to sense you in here," I said, looking at my bedroom door apprehensively as if I expected the door to burst open any minute.

"Chill, babe. Your crew's outside. Besides, I can tell if they sense my presence. We have the house to ourselves. More importantly, we have this great big bed to ourselves," he said, winking at me. "Why don't you come join me?" he added, patting the bed next to him. >"What's this?" one of them snarled at me. "You must be from the Junior Angels' Academy?"

"That's funny. Remember you said that when you're flat on your back with my foot on your throat," I said, smirking at him as I worked on not breathing through my nose. Their stench was enough to scar my nose forever.

Their sinister laugh at my threat made it clear they weren't intimidated—yet.

"This is a joke, right?" he taunted as he and the other two began to circle me. "Chickie, you're not tall enough for this ride. Better go find mommy."

It was a shame they weren't using human hosts. I would have loved to give my onlookers a show, but I would have to make do with what I had.

"You don't smell like any angel I've ever met," he said, breathing in deeply through his snout, which reminded me of a cross between a pig snout and a snout you'd find on an ox. It was massive in size and oozed green shit that made me glad I skipped breakfast.

"How you can smell anything but your own stank is beyond me," I said, trying to bite back my grin as they closed in on me.

"Your angel pals too scared to join you?" one of them snarled as he reached out to grab me. His breath reeked of dead flesh and god knows what else.

"Nah, they're just here for the show," I said, darting out of reach, not quite ready for him to discover what my touch could do to him. The others closed in. I kept my stance casual, biding my time for the perfect strike. The circle of Daemons around me closed in, blocking out the village. When I could no longer stand the stench, I made my move. With the palm of my hand and all my force, I struck the Daemon in front of me in his ugly-as-sin snout. His howl of anger turned to confusion as flames licked their way across his face, turning it to ash. Without pausing, I roundhouse kicked another directly behind me, sending him flying backward from the force. I smiled in pleasure as I observed the distance I had kicked him. I'd broken my record on that one. I was still smiling when the third Daemon made the mistake of reaching out and grabbing my arm. His hand immediately burst into flames.

"What the hell are you?" he yelped as the flame licked up his arm.

Tags: Tiffany King A Daemon Hunter Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net
readsnovelonline.net Copyright 2016 - 2024