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And it was my fault. If I had been there, they wouldn’t have taken her. I could’ve protected her. Fought them off. Destroyed the Demon or Demons that no doubt had her and were probably going to torture her if she wasn’t already dead.
“Seth, I know what you’re thinking but she’s not dead. Not yet, at least,” Libby said, crouched in front of one of the destroyed bookshelves. “It looks like they snuck up on her. There’s a painting over here with a few bloody fingerprints on it.”
Libby brought it over to where I sat on my knees, dumbfounded, on the floor. She shoved it into my hand, my gaze dragging to the painting. Erin. Or rather, a painting I had made of her. I made it after she moved out here for college. She had the biggest smile on her face. Feeling especially accomplished after our first successful run together. The image was etched into my brain: Erin was covered in sweat. Her hair had fallen out of its ponytail, sticking to her forehead and neck. The black leggings that she gravitated toward had been hiked halfway upher legs, bunching behind her knees, and her sweat-soaked T-shirt had been thrown off and wrapped around her wrist. Her eyeliner smudged and the biggest, brightest smile covered her face. Grinning ear to ear.
Thatwas Erin.
It had been one of the rare moments where she had been most herself since her dad disappeared. Not the watered-down, put on a brave face, shadow of herself she had been. My heart swelled back then, with admiration. The memory, the painting of it, caused my heart to tightened.
“Lib, we have to find her,” I said, eyes glued to the painting in my hand. I felt her body grow still next to me. The bloodied books, wrecked pillows, and shredded paintings began to hum. I dragged my eyes away from the painting in my hand, forcing my focus to where Libby sat beside me. The hum became louder as the objects began to swirl around the room, forming a crimson-soaked funnel, encasing us within it. Libby’s fingers clawed the floor beneath us, her mouth forced open as a scream ripped from her. Her back arched, throwing her head back. If she were solely human, her spine would’ve broken. Her scream filled the room, the ground shook, the windows above what remained of my bookshelves shattered. She collapsed, and the last of her screams left her body. My stomach churned.
The more violent her reaction…the more violent the encounter.
Erin, where did the Demons take you?
Libby’s eyes shot open and darkened with fear. “I found it,” she inhaled sharply. “I know who has her.”
Derik bolted through my front door. A roaring flame blazed within the depths of his eyes. Pure anger encapsulated his features. The blonde strands that staggered at the edges of his face were disheveled as if his anger had embodied itself even to the tips of his hair.
“What thefuck happened?Who thefucktook her?” His nostrils flared as his body shook.
The searing cold that ensnared me the moment Libby discovered who had taken Erin, met the fire in Derik’s eyes. Encouraging the need for bloodshed building within myself. Although Erin had a disdain for Derik, he cared for her and cared for his fellow Nephilim. We were the only family either of us had. We were brothers. That meant we would protect each other…as well as those we held close, no matter hownotclose they may be. I would burn the world to find Erin. And he would be right by my side, both of us taking down anyone who stood in our way.
Ice filled my veins as Libby said the name neither of us wanted to hear, “Erebus.”
Derik paled, his pupils dilated with fear. I was willing to bet the same memories that plagued my mind went through his as well. It was the day we met. A group of Demons had stampeded through a large city, destroying homes, burning them to the ground, murdering tens of innocent humans, and kidnapping others.
It was the day Derik had lost everything.
We raced between each house. Nothing but embers remained. Nicholas, my right-hand man, followed behind me. No one was left alive. We were too late. All the humans were dead. Shreddedand burned beyond recognition. Traces of the Demons who had caused this chaos covered the block.
“Keep searching. There has to be some sign—some sign of where they took the ones they didn’t kill.” Nicholas growled before he darted out to the buildings we hadn’t yet searched, unsheathing his dagger he’d nicknamed Lucky Blade. He never went anywhere without it.
We’d been hunting in our territory when we caught word of the slaughter and had made it out as fast as we could. We were too late.
All these innocents. Dead. Because I couldn’t get here in time.
A fire built within me.
There has to be someone. At least one had to have survived. Please. God.
For the love of humanity. We need to find survivors.
I neared the final lot, not even the frame of the home remained. Shattered glass covered the blackened yard. The large oak near the front was scorched, leaves still aflame. Bile climbed its way up my throat. A single rope still dangled from the lowest branch, the swing that had been attached now gone. I slowed, carefully stepping around the bits of leaves and debris scattered around me.
Coming to a stop on the pebbled walkway that would’ve taken me right up to the entrance, I gulped. A hollowness enveloped me, drowning me. Crackling thundered in my ears, followed by the echoing of the people who had been slaughtered. Their lives taken from them far too soon. Screaming.
I failed.
I failed these innocent people.
Screaming. Someone was screaming. I snapped my head in the direction it was coming from. I bolted through the ashes toward the back of the lot. Another tree had caught fire and collapsed.There were legs sticking out from underneath it, soaked in blood.
“Help! Someone help! Please!” It was a male voice. Strained, muffled. I catapulted myself over the three-foot thick bark and landed beside two humans. The screams turned into sobs. Continuing to beg for help.
“I’m going to try and move the trunk off of you. You need to trust me. We’ll get you out of here.” I braced my hands against the brunt of the tree and urged as much strength as I could to push it forward. If they hadn’t been so close to the base, I would have been able to lift the tree off of them instead of risking crushing their legs further.
Come on.
