As a child, demons had ripped out his wings. And because of his young age, his regenerative powers had not yet taken hold, so those wings had never grown back and never would. Instead his shoulders, back and legs were tattooed with crimson feathers depicting the wings he must miss with every ounce of his being. Not that he ever complained. Koldo was a man of few words, and those he did utter were deep, hoarse and soul chilling.
Jamila paced in front of the demon. With her dark skin and the long black ringlets cascading down her back and eyes of the sweetest honey, she was one of the original joy-bringers, promoted to warrior only after she had ventured into hell, alone, to rescue one of her pet humans.
Weeks had passed before she’d emerged, and though she’d saved the human’s spirit, she had not saved herself. Something down there had changed her. No longer did she laugh easily or flitter through life without a care. No one looked over her shoulder more than Jamila, as if expecting evil to be waiting in every corner.
Until tonight’s battle, though, Zacharel hadn’t understood why she had been given to his care. Now he knew. Clearly, she had a problem following orders…not to mention the fact that she no longer prized human life.
She would have to be punished. She would probably cry.
I should have chosen Axel as my fifth. The male was irreverent, always laughing, obsessed with wreaking havoc, but he would not shed a single tear when Zacharel pronounced his sentence.
Xerxes noticed him first and straightened. The others followed suit.
“The human girl,” Thane said. “I would like to return for her.”
Still thinking of her, was he? “No need. She’s here with me,” he replied with an unexpected edge to his tone. “You may tell me what you learned about her once we finish with the demon.”
A satisfied gleam entered Thane’s eyes, and that, more than anything else that day, angered Zacharel. Did he hope to win her? “I’ve yet to learn anything. There hasn’t been time.”
Another order unheeded. “You will make time when you leave.”
Something in his tone must have gotten through to Thane. Rather than issuing one of his customary retorts, he nodded. “I will.”
“What human girl are we discussing?” Jamila asked.
Zacharel waved the question away. “The only human that should matter to you is the one you killed during the battle.”
“Yeah. So? So what if I killed one?” she shot back, and he heard the unspoken, So have you. So have they.
His eyes narrowed on her, lances of resolve. “How many times in the past three months have I told you that you are not to make a demon kill if it causes you to harm a human?” He could have pulled her aside, could have chastised her in private, but she had committed her sin in front of others and she would now deal with the consequences in front of others.
Red suffused her cheeks. She gazed at her peers before refocusing on Zacharel. “There are approximately thirty days in a month, and you have mentioned it at least once a day. So my guess is ninety.”
The number was not an exaggeration. “And yet you made the kill anyway.”
She raised her chin in haughty defiance, eyes nearly black in the shadows cast by her lashes. Eyes completely dry. “I did. He taunted me through the human.”
Too many females had raised their chins at him today. Actually, one was too many. Annabelle had been allowed because she was human and knew no better, and had no other way of expressing her displeasure with him. And he’d been oddly…charmed by her. That was not the case in this instance.
“A good soldier knows to ignore the insults hurled at him. Your rebellion has earned me another whipping. Not you. Me.” And perhaps that was the problem. Jamila gave no thoughts to reprisal. None of them did.
“I’m sorry,” she gritted out.
Exactly what he’d said to his Deity, but surely not in that same irritating manner. “You aren’t sorry for your actions, only that I found fault with you.” The moment his words registered inside his mind, he scowled.
Was his Deity laughing right now? He had said those very words to Zacharel.