Michael slammed his hands against the steering wheel as he drove back up the driveway to the street. As if I should have expected Emma to have reacted any differently?He understood her anger, her denial. She should have known who she was when she was six years old, not by accident at thirty. Too much time had gone by. Enough time for a child’s innocence to have died and an adult’s cynicism to set in. But if he looked at this objectively, how could he hold back? Their lives were in danger, as was the fate of the mortal world. There was no time to be gentle and take it slow.So Satan has re-surfaced, and Agremon is with him. Agremon’s presence intrigued Michael more than Satan hanging a shingle. There was a score to be settled with the fallen angel. Brethren weren’t usually in the revenge business, but this development called for an exception. It’d been a long time since the forces of Good and Evil collided. It had been a war to rock both mortal and immortal worlds—Michael’s specifical

Emma willed her legs to move as she felt around for a wall. She hadn’t been able to see much of anything when she had first entered the crypt, and now that she was sealed in, she was surrounded by a stygian darkness. She bumped into something solid and stone-like, and immediately crouched down on the floor in a fetal position. Her body shook, her lips trembled and her mind conjured creepy-crawlies, fantastic monsters, and demons of all shapes and sizes. And they came, one and all in full force, to crawl over her skin, to nip and paw at her, and to literally pull her to pieces.“I’m going to wake up, I’m going to wake up,” she simpered over and over like a mantra while she rocked herself.A loud rumble sent shockwaves through her body. And, as if from another dimension, she heard her name, insistent and urgent. A giant monster emerged from the rubble and stood before her warped mind. She scuttled feverishly even further into the crypt.

Emma peeled off her clothes and tossed them furiously in the hamper, all the while chastising herself for her immature display. Michael must surely think she’s the most neurotic, whacked out woman on the planet. “A few hours in a man’s arms and you think you’re something special to him?” She pointed heatedly at her reflection. “You are so not ready for any kind of relationship with this man or any man for that matter. Stick to your fantasies, girlfriend. That’s all you seem good for these days.”Convinced she’d find lingering marks from Agremon’s torment, she stepped back and examined her body, naked except for the Talisman. In her nightmare, she remembered wearing a skimpy bathing suit and a barely there chiffon gown. And in her nightmare, creepy crawlies had scampered intrusively all of her body, pinching and scratching as they blazed their wicked trail. But now, there was nothing remarkable to see. It really had b

“Yes, actually, it did. We need to get back to your place, now,” he urged. “The rest of the Brethren are coming.”Emma pressed, “Michael, you’re making me nervous. Who exactly were you talking to and what did he say?”“You don’t have to fear the Brethren. I was talking to Gabriel, another Protector. He confirmed what I thought about you two. The rest is gonna have to wait till we’re back at your house. I don’t want the Brethren to arrive before us. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your truck.”Summarily dismissed, Emma brooded all the way home. Warning flags were flying around her head as misgivings washed over her. To trust or not to trust; that was the question. This man had completely turned her world upside down.He was her protection and her heart’s enemy all at once.Moment by moment, she decided, was the only way to stay above water. Plus, she had so many quest

“Ms. Livingston, we are honored to be in your presence and in the presence of the Great Warrior Child. I am Raphael, Lead Savior, and this is Cassiel and Zadkiel, Saviors as well.” They each nodded in turn, and she marveled at how they were so similar in stature and mannerism, yet each had their own individual style. From suit pants to jeans, dress shirts to T-shirts. Combined, they hurt her eyes with their handsomeness.What’s the deal with the formal treatment?“Well, hello, and please call me Emma,” she insisted. “We don’t stand on ceremony around here.” Raphael grabbed her hand in a firm handshake and frowned, releasing her hands as though he had touched something unpleasant. He turned to Michael and directed his comment to him.“Listen, Ms. Livingston, Emma, is in seriously bad shape, as is this house. I’ve gotta take care of these things first before we’re able to move forward with our plans