Asmodeus(32)

With renewed strength she wrapped her hands around the wrist of the Nephilim and pried the hand from her neck. Her throat seemed to heal itself as words poured from her mouth. "Powers of the moon, stars that line the sky, this creature has trespassed and therefore must die."



For once she could feel the command surge through her body, collecting the energy the earth provided. She felt every pebble beneath her, every star above her. She was one with the earth. Never before had she felt such undiluted power. It made the hair on her body stand up, electricity seeming to move through the outlet of her body.



The Nephilim fell back, its eyes bulging from the sockets. It convulsed soundlessly, blood pouring from its eyes, ears and mouth.



Her blood.



The convulsing stopped and the Nephilim lay still. Her surroundings once again became silent, except for the humming she felt within herself. The raw power reverberated throughout her body, causing her senses to become heightened, her awareness absolute.



She placed her palm against her neck to staunch the flow of blood, only to draw away when a sticky substance covered her hand. It held only traces of blood sheltered in a mess of clear, thick liquid.



Saliva.



God, gross. The blood in her hand was interacting with the saliva. It sizzled, sparked and churned just as Asmodeus's skin had been doing the night he faced the three angels.



She became perfectly still as the implication of the anomaly hit her. It could mean only one thing— her blood had reacted with the saliva of the Nephilim. It had given her powers, or amplified whatever powers she may have had. She felt for the gash the Nephilim had made when it bit her neck.



It was healed. Gone.



She gagged. The stench was unbelievable. She wiped her hand on her jogging suit when she picked up on the sound of footsteps. It was as though she had stepped out of her body, traveled hundreds of feet, and heard the crunch of twigs and rocks. There was more than one person making that noise.



Shit. Asmodeus and his demons.

She panicked, glancing at the body of the dead Nephilim laying next to her. How could she explain that? She had to seem like a lady in distress for her plan to work. She couldn't tell Asmodeus about the powers she'd gained from the Nephilim's saliva. That could be of help when she killed him.



The footsteps began picking up speed. They were running now.



Without thinking she put her hands on the Nephilim, sparks shooting off her fingertips. She needed the creature alive, and though she couldn't do that, she sent some of the energy she was tapping from the earth into its muscles to stimulate movement. It was a survival move, and she instinctively knew what to do, her actions taking over. The Nephilim moved and she dragged the body over her and began feigning a struggle.



It was by far the most disgusting thing she had ever done.



When she heard the men draw close she screamed as loud and shrill as she could.



Seconds later rocks and dirt went flying over her face, and suddenly the Nephilim was pulled off her. A flash of steel and the head of the Nephilim went rolling.



This time she didn't have to act. She turned on her side and started gagging.



"Brianna!"



Strong hands turned her on her back. Asmodeus ran his hands over her neck, chest and abdomen, checking for injuries.



Damn. She didn't have any injuries.



Okay, time to play this up.



"Asmodeus!" she wailed, clutching his arms and summoning up enough panic to yield some tears.



He pulled her to him, running a hand through her hair. "You are fine. The creature did not bite you."



The hell it didn't. She raised her voice up a few notches, false terror lining every word. "I was so scared!"



"Everything will be all right," he said, holding her tight.



She'd never realized she could be so dramatic. It was kind of fun, actually.



She feigned a shiver. "I didn't know what to do. Thank goodness you came in time." Oh puke. She had to tone it down and make sure she didn't overdo it. Her life depended on this theatrical event.



"What were you doing out here?" He pulled back some and she held on to his shoulders, attempting to keep the connection between them.



"I was going for my nightly jog." She sniffed. Now that had to be the biggest lie of the night. "I don't want to go home. I don't want to be alone." She leaned into him again with a few shakes of her shoulders, as if she couldn't hold back sobs. This had to work. It had to.



His arms tightened around her. "You can come with us."



Bingo. Thankfully something in her life was going as planned. She sighed, leaning into him. A small part of her really did like being in his arms, feeling the strength and security that surrounded her. She had no time to contemplate where the feeling came from, and that was probably for the best, since she was planning his death at the moment.