Lover's Wrath: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (An Angel and Her Demons Book 3), Lacey Andersen [best books to read non fiction TXT] 📗

The farmer stood between them, holding a dagger of his own. Within seconds, the bodies of the angels disappeared in a flash of light.

At her approach, all of them looked at her.

“Are you hurt?” Tristan asked, stepping forward.

Surcy looked down at the blood covering her jeans and t-shirt. Beth’s blood.

She shook her head, slowly.

Tristan’s emotions disappeared, hidden behind a mask of indifference.

“Then, whose blood is it?” Daniel asked.

A second later, she saw it hit him.

“Where’s my family?” the farmer asked, tension in his voice.

Her entire chest ached. How could she tell him his children had been stolen and his wife was hurt—perhaps dead? She was supposed to keep them safe, and she’d failed in every way.

“We need to get you out of here,” Tristan said, unsettlingly calm.

The farmer stepped back from them. “You said you came here to save us, so why would we leave without them?”

Daniel whirled on him. “We came here to save you. You’re the important one. We wanted to save them too, but if we couldn’t—“

“Not a fucking chance!” Clarence snarled. “I’m not going anywhere without them.”

Surcy struggled to form her explanation. “One of the angels wounded your wife. I teleported her to a hospital.”

“And the kids?” he asked, taking a step closer.

“They—they got them.”

“You mean the bloodthirsty creatures who wanted to kill me have my children?”

She nodded.

“Where?”

“I don’t know.”

He stared at her for one horrible minute that seemed to last a lifetime. “If they wanted me, they wouldn’t have gone far. I bet they’re back at the farm.”

Her stomach twisted. He was probably right.

“You can’t go back,” Tristan told him. “They’ve had time to gather their forces. We’d have no chance.”

“I don’t care.”

Tristan gave her a nod, so subtle the others didn’t see it.

He wants me to teleport away with him? I can’t just do that to him. I can’t leave the kids here.

She shook her head. “We need to save the kids.”

Tristan’s gaze met hers. “The fate of this world rests on getting all ten Immortals. If a single one dies, we have failed.”

“Tristan…”

“Take us out of here.” He spoke the words in staccato, one after the other, anger and frustration embedded in each one.

Her gut clenched, but she realized that he was right. They couldn’t risk the Immortal. The angels would be waiting to attack. They only had one option.

She took their hands. Tristan grabbed the farmer. Before he could protest, she teleported them away, leaving the children behind.

7

Surcy teleported them to the top of a building, in a city she’d never been to, but that Mark had described in his note. Instantly, the farmer sagged to his knees, his mouth dropped in shock.

“The next Immortal is here,” she said, pulling out Mark’s note from her pocket and handing it to Daniel.

“Where the hell are we?” The farmer shouted. “Where are my kids?”

She looked at her demons, memorizing their faces, her heart in her throat. They were everything to her, everything in this world.

But she couldn’t let those children die.

“Don’t worry,” she told Clarence. “I’ll do everything I can to save them.”

Tristan’s brows drew together.

And, she teleported away.

Heart hammering, she stood in the cornfield just outside the farmhouse. Slowly moving forward she crept closer, gently pushing aside stalks with each step. Everything was far too quiet. Even the wind hardly stirred, and on the air she smelled the plants, the sun, and the sky, like all of it was alive and open to her. Underneath it all, the scent of copper lingered, the mother’s blood still wet and sticky on her clothes.

Up ahead, she heard a child crying. It took everything in her not to sprint forward. If she got killed, it wouldn't help the children get back to their father.

When she reached the edge of the field, she froze, squinting through the leaves of the corn. Inching a little forward, she held back a gasp. No less than fifty angels stood in perfect formation in front of the little house.

On the porch? The children stood before Frink. He clutched them against his chest and held his glowing blade at their throats.

Her heart sank. The blue flames just barely licked at their flesh, but she could see they were in pain and scared.

There was only one way she could think to save them. If she failed, they would all die.

Closing her eyes, she counted to three, feeling sweat run down her back. Feeling how her legs trembled.

“Surcy, let’s stop these games,” Frink said, his voice wasn’t loud, but it carried in the stillness. “Why keep pretending you can be anything but an angel? None of us can choose. We are what Caine assigns us to be, and you are his soldier.”

She said nothing, just watched the blade at the children’s throat. It needed to move, just an inch or two away. That’s all she needed.

Frink laughed. “You know what the best part of all of this is? You truly don’t know that you’re still working for us.”

If she could tune his words out, she would. Instead she sat, waiting for the opportunity to strike, unable to escape his cruel words.

“Did you really think a man as powerful as Caine couldn’t reach you? That your little garden house and three weak demons could keep him away? Think about it, Surcy, ask yourself why you’re still alive.”

She refused to think about it. Frink hated her with a passion. He was trying to distract her, trying to get inside her brain.

“Because, and this is just so delicious, you’re his little spy.”

The words fell like stones in her belly. Of course Frink would lie about something so terrible. He wanted to hurt her. To make her doubt herself.

“The man who can affect memories… it’s just pure fun, right? He can sneak into your room late at night, pull your memories from your mind, and leave without you even knowing he was there. He could find out all that you and your demons had done. And he