He pushed himself up to his elbows to look down at her. The brilliant yet sleepy smile she gave him melted his heart. Just a week ago he didn't have a heart, and here he was, giving it away.
She brushed a strand of hair off his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. "Will you do me a favor?"
He was sure in that moment he would give her anything. "The favor?"
"Will you check on Kelly for me? I'm worried about her."
His breath caught as he saw the hope in her eyes. Kelly was beyond his help, but that was not something he would bring to Brianna's attention right now. Brianna was aware of the seriousness of the situation, and she held on to blind hope. "I will."
"Thank you."
"I'm going to jump in the shower first." He wanted the tension gone. Just the mention of Kelly had Brianna frowning. "That is if you can control yourself for five minutes."
She pretended to look shocked, smacking him on the rear. "You're the nympho."
"I'm a what?"
She laughed. "Nymphomaniac. A sex addict."
Truth was, though many would argue he was the demon of carnal desire, he hadn't felt this way until he had her. She had a way of pulling him in, making him crave her more with each and every touch. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, and pulled her out of bed with him.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm living up to my name."
"Asmodeus!"
He flipped her over his shoulder as she giggled. Promising himself after the shower he would leave her be for a few hours, he made his way into the bathroom.
Brianna waited until Asmodeus flashed himself from her house. The dog was secured in the garage with food Asmodeus had materialized and a big bowl of water. They would decide what to do with the dog later. Asmodeus told her he would be back within the hour, so she had to move fast.
She grabbed the black leather spell book and settled on her bed, flipping through the pages. She hoped she would find something in the spell book pertaining to Michael, or at the very least, something about angels.
The writing was in the demonic tongue, and it was difficult to decipher names and meanings. She didn't want to say a spell and make a colossal mistake, but she had to do something to gain an audience with the archangel.
She picked up the dagger she had brought to her room, eyeing the strange writing on the blade. The angelic writing looked nothing like the demonic writing in the book. It was etched in beautiful lines, loops and slashes.
Sighing, she put the book down and studied the script on the dagger. She was well versed in Hebrew and Latin, though this looked nothing like either. She couldn't risk bringing another demon to this realm. She had to summon Michael.
She would have to create her own spell. Kelly had taught her how to do this, and she had effectively pulled off her own spell on the bars in Naberius's house.
Determined to obtain audience with Michael before Asmodeus came back, she decided to go a little primitive. Gritting her teeth, she brought the blade across her palm, creating a long, shallow line of blood. She wrapped her injured hand around the blade, causing further pain.
"Heavenly host of love and wrath, messengers of darkness and light, I summon your strongest angel, Michael, to bear witness to my plight."
She sat on her bed, shaking and afraid of what she would see, who she would summon, if anyone. For a full minute she sat, still as a statue on her bed. Had she really thought she could effectively summon Michael, the greatest of all the angels? She pushed the pain of her throbbing hand aside. It didn't work. She should have known it wouldn't.
As she got up to wash the blood off her hand, a soft light illuminated her room, touching every corner. It wasn't a flash of light. It stayed and enveloped her with a feeling of hope and trepidation. Peace and fear.
Who the hell did she think she was, summoning a being such as Michael? All of a sudden she wanted to rescind her spell. She didn't want to face him.
Shaking off her fear, she held onto her resolve. If there was a way to save Asmodeus, she would endeavor to find it. He deserved that much. He deserved someone who loved him enough to do such a thing for him.
And she did love him. She couldn't deny the way he took her breath away, the way her insides burned as she looked at him. Waking in his arms had been pure bliss. He needed a champion, and she was ready to play the role.
Until she saw the form of a man emerge from the light, drawing the light into him as if he were the light. Her room darkened as he materialized from the radiance.
Did she say champion?
Before her stood a man of incredible size and an undeniably dark aura. Because he had come from the light, she couldn't make sense of the darkness that came off him in waves. Angels auras were supposed to be bright.