His legs shook as he stood. Shook more as he walked over to Thane, who sat on a stool in front of his minion, and patted the man on the shoulder, careful not to brush against his wings.
The warrior with the sweetly curling hair and the wicked, heavenly eyes glanced up, frowned. “Do you desire a turn?”
There was a hitch in his voice, and Koldo knew Thane fought the need to rebuke him for daring to touch him without permission. But this was Koldo’s home, and Thane was here without permission of his own. “No. I want you to let the minion go. Alive.”
Thane leapt to his feet, the stool skittering back. His boys did the same, flanking his side in seconds. They formed a wall of muscle and might, a support system no one else would ever be able to breach. “You must still burn with fever to even suggest such a thing. It will only possess, rape and murder.”
How little these men thought of him. But unlike Zacharel, he would not embrace his ability to speak in the minds of his fellow soldiers and convince them otherwise. That was an invasion, plain and simple, and he didn’t trust the men to only listen to his words and never attempt to search through his mind, his memories.
He barreled between Thane and Bjorn and gripped the minion by the throat, forcing the male to look up, into his eyes. One crimson orb was missing, blood trekking down a bony cheek.
“Only one of the three demons here will walk away,” he announced.
Behind him, the angels hissed with outrage. But they didn’t contradict him, and he was grateful for that, at least.
“I have a message for your high lord. Will you be the one to deliver it?”
The minion brightened instantly. “Yes, yes, of course. Would be my pleasure to serve you in this way.”
A lie, most surely.
“No, no. I’ll deliver it,” the minion beside him said. “Let me.”
“No, me,” the third rushed out. “I’ll do anything. Anything!”
Koldo kept his gaze on the one he held. “I do not believe you. And that is why I’m keeping a piece of you here. If you want that piece back, you’ll have to come and get it with proof of your actions.” That said, Koldo ripped off the creature’s right arm.
A scream of agony, jagged at the edges. The spurt of black blood.
He tossed the appendage to the floor. As greedy and selfish as demons were, they could not bear for anyone else to have what belonged to them.
“I’ll go,” was the panted reply. “I’ll go and return. Swear.”
Truth or lie? Other angels would have been able to tell, but because of his father, Koldo could not. “When you see him, tell Unforgiveness that his cowardly hiding will not save him from our wrath.”
Koldo removed the chains.
In a blink, the demon bolted up and through the side wall, disappearing from view, laughing gleefully.
“What now?” Thane asked, angry.
“Now,” Koldo replied, “I follow him to the high lord. I have a lock on his spiritual trail.” An ability he hadn’t wanted the demon to know about, hence the pretense that he expected proof. “Once I discover where Unforgiveness and his horde are staying, I can lead Zacharel straight to him. In the meantime, kill these two. They are no longer needed and now possess information they shouldn’t.”
Amid the demons’ protests and the warriors’ grunts of approval, Koldo hid himself in a pocket of air, knowing that not even the angels could sense him any longer, and followed the trail the fleeing demon had left for him. He saw sparks of pink—relief. Fetid green and slick black, like diseased oil leaking from a car—the need to hurt someone mixed with fear.