Demon Fire (The Angel Fire Book 3), Marie Johnston [books suggested by bill gates TXT] 📗

Her moves were efficient. She didn’t set the ultrasound print down, but it didn’t slow her movements with the phone.

He idled down the next block. There was a navy blue delivery van sitting outside the safe house. “Shit.” All the deliveries they needed had been made in the days after they’d first arrived.

There was no time to wait for Harlowe’s permission. He increased his speed. He wasn’t stopping until he knew for certain it was safe.

A delivery guy wearing a navy polo that matched the van was walking up the path to the front door. At the sound of the pickup, he turned slowly, his moves eerily jerky.

Boone glanced over, his expression neutral, like he was just a normal dude a few blocks from home. The delivery man had stopped, his gaze intent.

Sierra did the same as Boone. A glance over and then out the windshield. Neither one said anything until they passed.

Just as Sierra said, “Archmaster,” the delivery man sprinted to his vehicle.

“We’ve been ID’d.” He pressed down the accelerator. How fast could he push the speed? He didn’t dare get pulled over. What would a demon do to a cop? How well would Jack Smith’s fake license hold up?

Sierra put the phone to her ear. “The safe house has been blown.”

The van squealed into the middle of the street—and right into the side of Harlowe’s black sedan. The crash was loud within the cab and both he and Sierra jumped.

“Harlowe!” Sierra craned around in her seat. “Harlowe!” she cried again into the phone.

The van didn’t stop and was gaining on them. They couldn’t stop to check on her. Urban or Bronx had to have heard the crash.

Boone whipped around the corner. There was a long stretch ahead, but zigzagging would be best. He didn’t take the next turn for fear of running into the archmaster they’d first passed.

“Shit!” Sierra faced forward. “She’s not answering.”

“The phone probably got knocked out of her hand.” Boone checked his mirror. The delivery van was gaining on them.

Calling on old skills, he took the next left without slowing. Sierra braced herself against her door and the console. He took the next right, then an immediate left. He went to take a right and almost got stuck in a cul-de-sac. He veered back out as the van careened around the corner behind him, gaining speed.

Boone pushed his speed faster. A residential area was the last place for a high-speed chase. Another quick right. He didn’t know this area. If he’d been on the job, he would’ve mapped the entire neighborhood. Hell, he’d have known every block in Henderson. But this hadn’t been his operation and he hadn’t been allowed a phone until today.

The van roared close. Boone was about to take another right but spotted a large, sprawling building that reminded him too much of a school. He swerved back on the road he’d been on, losing precious feet of distance.

“It looks like a main road over there.” Sierra pointed to where cars whizzed by at higher speeds than he was going. He could push the limit higher there and weave in and around traffic. The demon pursuing them would have to avoid an accident or risk enough damage that’d stop his pursuit.

He’d have to quit turning and gun it for the main road. Increasing his speed, he remained hyperaware of his surroundings. They passed a few pedestrians and a few people on bikes who took the first turn away from them they could.

He tore his gaze away from the mirror just as a familiar red car fishtailed around a turn two blocks ahead.

“It’s the same car,” Sierra confirmed.

It raced straight for them. If he swerved, he’d jump the sidewalk, but he couldn’t see any kids playing in lawns or driveways. He’d have to risk it.

He was about to ease the wheel to the right between two parked cars when his pickup was slammed from behind. He and Sierra flew forward and back. The red car was on them and not slowing down. It was going to pin them to the van. The human behind the wheel of the red car would perish.

He slammed on his brakes. The shrieking of tires on pavement filled the air, followed by the wrenching of what sounded like a massive soda can crushing outside of the vehicle.

Both air bags popped, slamming his head back. He cried out and cupped his nose. Dust rained down around them as they were momentarily dazed. Sierra undid her seat belt and reached for the ultrasound picture that had been knocked from her hand. But before she could reach it, her door was yanked open. She let out a strangled cry as the delivery man hauled her out.

“No.” Boone fumbled with his seat belt, but the pounding he’d taken from the air bag had left him stunned. Smoke filled the air but he refused to panic. The smell was different from a fire. It was from the airbags.

He freed himself and lunged across the front seat. Fear suffocated him as questions clambered in his head. Was Sierra okay? Had the seat belt or the airbag hurt the baby?

The door hung open and the smack of knuckles on skin was unmistakable.

“Sierra!” he roared and rolled out, nearly landing on his damn face. When he righted himself, he spun toward the flurry of movement.

Sierra had the human’s arm twisted behind him and was slamming him up against the truck. “Who. The fuck. Told you. About us.”

Boone knew the answer. Sandeen had left and demons had found them. But he hung back.

“Your angel bodyguards can’t protect you.” A dark laugh left the human a moment before a long, ragged groan. The man crumpled. The demon must’ve vacated him.

“We’ve gotta check on Harlowe.” Sierra ran to the pickup and came out with the phone and the picture clutched in her hand. She went for the van that was cockeyed on the curb. The engine wasn’t running.

“Sierra.”

“Boone. Hurry.”

“Can Harlowe really be hurt?” Angel fire. Dismemberment. She hadn’t mentioned