Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Nodding her head in approval, Naomi plopped the empty cups on the tray she’d set on the coffee table. “In their shoes, I’d definitely laugh.” She pyroported to the kitchen—a gift that was basically a variation of Lou’s ability to teleport.
She couldn’t pyroport far. Only several feet away. Lou, on the other hand, could teleport from realm to realm. Celestials generally lost that ability when they fell, but he’d retained it.
He wasn’t a mere angel, though; he was a seraphim. He’d been God’s favorite once. And due to that favoritism, he’d been awarded much power. Too much. A level that exceeded even that of archangels. Seraphim weren’t psychically built to host such a level.
Naomi thought it might have contributed to why he’d reached a mental point where he’d become a problem for those in the upper realm. Power corrupted, didn’t it? And the Uppers didn’t kick celestials out without very good reason.
The fall had further warped his conscience and character. It had also twisted his gifts. That, in turn, had put a slight twist on hers. And having the biological and psychic makeup of both a siren and a very powerful fallen seraphim meant that she wasn’t a normal demon by any stretch of the imagination.
But she was very, very good at hiding that.
Having placed the tray on the counter, intending to wash the mugs later, she returned to the living room.
“They shouldn’t have been able to sneak into this house without being seen by imps in the neighborhood at some point,” grumbled Alfie. “There aren’t even any signs of forced entry.”
“I doubt that was the first time those clerics had done a little breaking and entering while on holy quests,” mused Naomi.
Tobe shot her a hard look. “If you’d activated your alarm system, they wouldn’t have gotten inside.”
“I was in a rush earlier. I forgot.” She had a habit of being late. And forgetful, for that matter. “I won’t forget again.” Hopefully.
Tia heaved a sigh. “It seems like crime is forever on the rise. There’s no end to it. The nerve of some people is shocking. They seem to think they’re above the law.”
“Complains the woman who swindles people every day of her life,” quipped Alfie.
Tia glared at him. With her white headscarf, boho floral dress, large hooped earrings, and endless number of bangles, she looked the part she played to every human who entered her psychic shop. Fake part. She sniffed at her mate. “That’s hardly relevant here and now.”
“Honey, it’s always relevant,” Alfie contradicted, mirth twinkling in his brown eyes. “It’s a shame you’re not a real seer. You might have otherwise seen this coming.”
“What do we do with the swords?” asked Beck.
Ciaran pursed his lips. “I suppose we could sell them.”
“I don’t care what you do with them so long as they’re gone,” Naomi told him.
He lifted one off the floor, and his expression morphed into a grimace. “What the hell is that smell?”
Jolene frowned. “Smell?”
“It’s like a mix of decay and body odor,” he elaborated.
Jolene sidled up to him and leaned in to give the sword a quick sniff. Her face scrunched up. “Dark magick.”
Naomi blinked. “Dark magick?” Her mind drifted back to when one of the Eliouds had sliced her; to how she’d felt something far from holy trying to ease inside her.
Jolene’s lips thinned. “Now just why would a bunch of devout clerics use a weapon embedded with dark magick?”
“They wouldn’t,” said Tia. “The strength of a cleric’s power depends on their faith in God. To purposely utilize any sort of black craft would sever their connection to that holy power. They wouldn’t have been able to toss magick at Naomi.”
“Meaning they had no idea their swords were enchanted,” Beck surmised.
Tia’s head whipped round to face Naomi. “They didn’t hurt you with those swords, did they?”
“Only once,” replied Naomi. “I wasn’t stabbed, just sliced. A sliver of what I now realize was dark magick tried infecting me, but my fire burned it away.”
Alfie blew out a relieved breath. “The Eliouds must have gotten their hands on those swords via a person they didn’t know was a dark practitioner. Though why a dark practitioner would sell them weapons, thus empowering them, makes no sense to me. They’re not exactly allies.”
Indeed. The two sides hated each other.
On the surface, it seemed that dark practitioners and clerics were polar opposites. Dark practitioners were self-serving and on a constant quest to obtain more power, often worshipping cruel deities. Clerics, on the other hand, considered themselves divine servants and sought to please God rather than themselves. But both magick-users would torture and kill in the name of whatever being they worshiped, so they weren’t terribly different.
Khloë helped her brother gather up the blades. “I’ll start digging into these clerics tomorrow.” She spared Naomi a quick glance. “Hopefully I’ll have something to tell you when you come to Urban Ink on Monday for your tattoo.” Khloë worked as the receptionist at the studio.