Chasing Angel (Divisa #3)

I just came up blank.

And while I was picking my empty brain, Chase was fighting for his life. Great time to go spacey.

Chase grunted as he took a massive hit from Daddy Dearest, and when I looked beside me, he was no longer there. Franticly, I spun in circles, scanning the murky parking lot for any sign of Chase. The pounding in my ears beat in time with my thundering heart.

Out of thin air, the two of them materialized, very much still engaged in beating each other to a pulp. Chase’s leg kicked out, catching a battered looking Eric/Alastair in the chest, and he barely flinched.

“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” Alastair commented, a deranged pride in his voice. “But I have a few tricks up my sleeve. No good demon is without them, and I am the best.”

Chase wasn’t in the mood to shoot the shit—him and his demon were on fire. I had no idea how long the two of them could go at, kicking the crap out of each other. Neither of them seemed winded, but I didn’t have to wait long. Chase was charging, and by charging I mean he was flickering in and out of my eyesight. Then—

I stared wide-eyed as he hit an invisible barrier, with him on one side and me and Alastair on the other. I half expected to hear a loud thump as he face planted air, knocking him back a step or two. My mouth opened, screaming his name, but it was pointless. I ran. It took seeing Chase helpless to get my feet moving, but I didn’t get far.

Alastair plucked me off my feet as if I weighed nothing. No amount of struggle was going to release me from his confines. So I ceased, because with each attempt, Chase and his demon went wild. He pounded his fist on an invisible wall, trying to find a weakness, a way to crack the barricade. I knew that he would do more damage to himself than he would to whatever was holding him at bay.

In the meantime, Alastair turned me around with a sickening grin on his lips. “I can see how deep the bond runs. I’m thinking that maybe you would prefer a different form; let’s say one younger…” I didn’t like the gleam that dashed into his black eyes.

With a snap of his fingers, I was staring at Chase.





Chapter 12


Suddenly everything around me stopped. The sight of the tall dark evergreens vanished. The winds weren’t whistling. Most importantly, I felt empty. The bond that I so often cursed was gone. No longer could I sense Chase’s rage, his worry, his need to hurt Alastair, and it was the worst feeling ever—losing the tie to Chase.

For a heartbeat, I was stupefied, staring at this replica of him. The same cocky smirk, an uplifted eyebrow—those were Chase’s. His mannerism down to a T. But no matter what he made me see, no matter that he managed to mask my feelings, there was just one detail he couldn’t disguise. He didn’t have the eyes I adored. The ones staring at me mockingly were solid black, uncanny, and made my skin crawl.

There was only one Chase.

Really, I was surprised that Alastair had thought that would work on me. Chase and I weren’t just some couple; we had connections I think the universe had yet to understand. Nothing any lower-demon, higher-demon, or human could change for that matter. Not by force. Not by deceit. And surely not by manipulation. What I felt for him ran deeper than the surface, our souls, our spirits, our bodies, our hearts.

And as soon as I realized that, the illusion began to shimmer and the world came back alive—piece by vibrant piece. I busted his bubble, bringing back the biting winds, the hooting of a night owl, and the panting of my breathing. Just like that, I saw Alastair for what he truly was—a disgusting being from Hell.

And a butt ugly one at that.

Why were they always so gross in their true forms? I tried not to embarrass myself, but I screwed up my face anyhow. His black lips and sickly skin were causing a royal rumble in my belly. Narrowing his glower, he noticed the change in my eyes and brought his face down to my level. With more willpower than I knew I possessed, I held steady when every muscle in my body wanted to flinch.

“What are you?” I asked. “Some kind of shifter?” I met his gaze head-on, acting a whole lot braver than I felt. My goal of distracting him was going only mildly well.

Alastair scoffed, clearly offended. “I am not a low-life demon,” he hissed. “I’m the real deal, toots.” When he talked, he no longer sounded human.

Umm. Excuse me. Did he just call me “toots”? Demon or not, I was no one’s toots. I wanted to chuck something at his head. My hands balled at my sides, knowing I didn’t stand a chance up against him. There wasn’t much I could do, and I was starting to prefer him as creepy dead Eric. This whole eyes-wide-opened gunk sucked; maybe it was better to not be able to see the demon for who he really was.