Demon Games [4] Read Online Free PDF

gauge their weight and strength before tightening his grip and yanking down sharply, turning his head to avoid the flying shrapnel as the metal gave way, the broken links clattering to the floor when he opened his hand. Pushing against the door, the vampire stepped out into the night, a sudden wind tugging at the hem of his cloak. He closed his eyes, taking in the stillness and dissipating some of the tension he’d allowed to build up inside him.
    When he opened his eyes again she was there, her vast black-feathered wings folded down against her back. Even his highly attuned vampiric senses had not heard her approach, and he smiled momentarily at the sight of her.
    Moriel did not return the smile. The battle-angel stood before him, her grey-blue eyes settling on his face for a moment before scanning the darkness through the open door at his back. Then with slow, calculated movements she turned her head to take in the rooftops below.
    ‘I came alone, as promised,’ Lucien said, but if the Arel heard him, she gave no sign.
    He took the opportunity to study her. She was big – even by Lucien’s standards, and the vampire was over six feet tall. She wore simple leather armour – a cuirass, greaves and vambraces – but these did little to cover the multitude of scars that criss-crossed her body, arms and legs. Her jet-black hair mirrored the colour of her wings, but it was her eyes that were her most fascinating feature, those and the ruinous scar that corkscrewed its way down the centre of her face. Even with the scar, or maybe because of it, she was beautiful in a way no human woman could ever be.
    Satisfied that they were not being watched, she turned to face Lucien again, those piercing eyes taking him in, one eyebrow slowly rising in a quizzical gesture. She folded her arms across her chest and nodded in his direction.
    ‘You asked to see me?’ she said, revealing teeth that had been filed into deadly points.
    ‘Yes, Moriel. I need your help.’
    The battle-angel smiled, but there was no humour in the look she gave the vampire. ‘It’s a strange day when a vampire asks an Arel for assistance. We are more used to your kind killing us on sight.’
    There was an uncomfortable silence, each of them holding the other’s stare with stony, unblinking eyes.
    ‘Not all vampires are alike.’
    ‘Are you going to stand there, in this of all places, and tell me that you have never taken the life of an innocent? That you have not killed to fulfil your desire for blood? That you are not like the others of your kind in your needs?’
    The wind blew again, ruffling the feathers of Moriel’s wings.
    ‘I have done those things, yes. But I have changed. I have tried to make amends for the terrible acts of my past, and I am trying to ensure that others will not be able to do such things in the future. You know that.’
    Mori el looked away towards the burning hills far off on the horizon. When she turned back her eyes were softer and she shook her head apologetically. ‘I am sorry, Lucien. I have no right to talk to you like that. It’s just that things have been very . . . difficult lately.’ She paused, the muscles in her jaw clenching and unclenching. ‘Jenos was killed. Caliban killed him.’
    Lucien stared at the battle-angel, unable to respond. Jenos had been like a son to Moriel; she had trained him and they had fought side by side together against the same creatures that Lucien was trying to thwart from entering the human realm. The Arel were humanity’s first line of defence against the Netherworld, guarding the portals between the two realms. They were autonomous in this act. The demon lords might believe that they controlled traffic between the worlds, but the Arel truly policed the borders. Unseen, and deadly in their enforcement methods, they had single-handedly prevented many a nether-creature from making an illicit crossing. On the few occasions when they failed, they were always swift to let Lucien’s people