Sarah Gilman - Deep in Crimson

Jac, her brother.

Raphael is here, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay. Jac would heal. He wasn’t moving because he was deep in a healing sleep. Tension fled her body in a heavy sigh.

The archangel glanced up and shook his head. “He bled out before I got here.”

She dropped to her knees, swallowing a strange urge to laugh out loud at Raphael’s words. “That can’t be.”

“I’m sorry, Lex.”

She stared, her jaw shaking.

“I’m so sorry.” In a rare gesture from any archangel, he touched his wing to her back, his flight feathers dragging through the mud.

Her denial shattered. Sobs tore out of her throat and she dropped her face to her brother’s dirt-and-blood-matted hair.

Another scent pulled her back from the edge—a distinct, sweet, citrus fragrance entwined in the nauseating mess of odors. Her younger brother, Bryce, had been hiking that night as well. She didn’t smell his blood, thank goodness. “Bryce?” Clutching Jac’s shoulder, she raised her head and looked around, straining her eyes. “Bryce?”

A Guardian stepped closer, crouched, and spoke quietly. “Scents indicate two human males took him and fled.”

“ What? ”

“Vin and his team have gone after them. We’ll get Bryce back, Lexine.”

She struggled to her feet in the mud, sniffling, trying to isolate the scents despite her stuffed-up nose and tears. The Guardian was right, of course—Bryce’s scent mingled with the humans’. But there was also another intense, more recent scent that shot straight to her heart and jolted it into a rapid flutter.

Jett, the demon who’d been living secluded in the woods for the last eleven months—the object of gossip and suspicion and confusion—who’d been presumed dead as a child. He’d gotten entangled with poachers, but he helped rescue Raphael.

She knew his fragrance of tea and honey from the cemetery, where he lingered, out of sight, whenever she tended the landscaping. Creepy, but not threatening—Raphael trusted him, and that was good enough for her.

He’d gone after the humans and wasn’t far behind them. Nothing else mattered.

“I’ll bring you home,” the Guardian said, offering his arm.

She shook her head. “Jac would go after them.” Her voice shook. “He’d kick my ass if I just sat at home like a blubbering fool while humans have our brother.”

“Lex, you need—” Raphael began.

Lexine caught Bryce’s scent and ran after it.

“That’s no way to treat a little kid.”

The moment Jett emerged from the woods and spoke, the two humans whirled, the captive demon child locked in the arms of the brawny, taller member of the kidnapping duo. The giant man clutched his prisoner’s throat and backed toward the car parked along the muddy, puddle-ridden logging road. His partner covered his retreat, aiming a semiautomatic handgun at Jett.

Though the rain had stopped, water dripped from the canopy of the old-growth forest, the only sound aside from the boy’s muffled protests. The faint mix of scents on the breeze indicated that Sanctuary’s Guardians were catching up, but still had a lot of ground to cover. The humans would escape in the vehicle if Jett didn’t intervene, but he hesitated.

Demons were a malevolent, disgusting species. Violent beings who took pleasure in others’ misery.

Or so his captors had raised him to believe.

In the eleven months Jett had been studying the colony from the shelter of the forest, he’d seen nothing to suggest anything he’d been taught about demons was true.

Not one damned thing.

This child didn’t deserve anything the humans had in mind.

The little boy wriggled and kicked, his arms secured behind his back. A band of metal wrapped around his head and covered his mouth, preventing him from biting. Far too young to ignite demon fire on his skin, he stood no chance against the two men. Even if he could ignite demon fire, which was itself harmless to demons’ skin, he’d seriously burn himself with the molten metal.

The kidnappers’ plain clothes and unmarked vehicle gave nothing away, but the scent that came from the SUV when the human opened the door identified the kidnappers better than a photo identification card. The interior reeked of rubbing alcohol, formalin, rubber gloves, and a myriad of other chemical odors—the stench of the despicable research facility that had been Jett’s prison for thirteen years of his childhood.

He’d be damned if he stood by and allowed these criminals to escape with another innocent child. Jett hissed, baring his fangs.

Had Jett been taken from the colony in the same manner as this? He’d been so young. He remembered nothing.

The heavy-weight human shoved the boy into the SUV, locked the door, and rejoined his partner. The two men faced Jett, aiming their guns. Calm. Ready. Professionals, for certain. But had they ever faced a demon their own size?

Growling, Jett bared his upper and lower fangs and ignited demon fire. The flames engulfed his body but left his skin and his worn, threadbare clothing intact—the fire destroyed only if he willed it. He lunged toward the humans.

“Holy fuck!” Gunshots rang out, but the humans fired one-handed and blind as they shielded their faces from the heat of the demon fire. A bullet grazed Jett’s arm, but the other shots went wide.

He plowed into the nearest kidnapper, seized the gun, and fired into the man’s stomach. Letting the bastard collapse to the ground, Jett sprang at the second human and shoved him hard against the side of the gray SUV.

Jett extinguished his flames and sank his fangs deep into his opponent’s muscular shoulder, tasting sweat and blood. The scent of the other children, of their deaths, clung to the man’s clothing. He bit deeper.

The venom from his fangs went to work in seconds, propelled through the human’s blood to his brain by his own rapidly beating heart. A scream ripped from the kidnapper’s throat and he seized hard enough to break his own back.

Jett stepped away, letting the limp body drop to the ground, and spat out the blood. He licked his fangs. Stimulated by the recent bite, the venom flowed hard and filled his mouth with a caramel-like sweetness.

The other human lay on his back on the puddle-ridden ground, blood running from the corner of his mouth. Gurgling sounds accompanied his shallow, rapid breaths. Eyes narrowed, he reached into his jacket as Jett approached.

A blade glinted in the moonlight. Jett caught the human’s wrist and sank his fangs into the bastard’s forearm. Already half in the grave, the human’s venom-induced spasms subsided in seconds. Pity had been trained out of Jett years ago, but now, he paused. Not long ago, he’d shown another person empathy, an act that changed his entire existence. He’d won his freedom and no longer saw himself only as a monster. Still, for these kidnappers who intended God knew what for the demon child, no regret rose.

Jett searched the body and found a set of keys. Hooking the keychain around his thumb, he hurried back to the vehicle.

The child sat on the backseat, his eyes wide between his mussed red hair and the steel gag, breathing hard through his nose. Jett froze. Even after so many years, he could feel the cold, tight metal clamped around his own head.

Tears beaded at the corners of the boy’s eyes. Jett lifted him out of the car. The child trembled, his head heavier against Jett’s shoulder than it should have been, thanks to the metal device designed to keep a demon from biting. Holding him securely with one arm, Jett lifted a hand to the back of the boy’s head. He used the keys to unlock the gag and tossed the thing away.

Sounds halfway between screams and sobs erupted from the child. Jett tightened his grip around the boy’s shoulders and fumbled with the lock on the handcuffs. As soon as the restraints fell to the ground, the child threw his arms around Jett’s neck.