Eve of Warefare Read Free Page B

into.”
    She set her flute down on her glass-topped coffee table. “Putting the whole demon-hunting lifestyle aside, we’ve got other issues. I’ve never been to your house. I don’t even know if you live in Orange County, or if you shift to some other continent for a change of clothes. We’ve never gone anywhere together that wasn’t work related; you come to my place and that’s it. You join my life when it suits you and you disappear when it doesn’t. What we had was a working relationship with benefits.”
    “Whatever, babe,” he scoffed, running a hand through his precisely cut hair. “You wouldn’t let it be more than that. Playing house is just what we need.”
    Noting the sullen set of his mouth, Eve knew it was time to change the subject or argue pointlessly for hours. She took a seat on one of her cream-coloured down-filled sofas. “About playing house . . . Explain what’s going on to me. Since when are vampyres not Infernals any more?”
    There was no outward show of it, but she felt the relief that moved through him. “Vampyres with a ‘Y’ are demons, yes. Vampires with an ‘I’ aren’t. You weren’t trained about the second kind, because Marks aren’t supposed to deal with them. You’ll be the first.”
    All Marks went through a comprehensive training program, something like a boot camp for recruits. Every classification of demon was discussed in depth, with a focus on how best to kill them.
    “Of course,” she said dryly, not at all surprised that she was getting stuck with another crap-tas-tic assignment. Jerking her around was Entertainment #1 for angels of all ranks. “If vampires-with-an-I aren’t demons, what are they?”
    Reed adjusted his slacks and sat beside her. “You’ve been taking a crash course in the Bible since you were Marked. Remember reading about the Watcher angels?”
    “Two hundred angels were sent to observe human behaviour but they started fraternizing and doing other naughty things, including breeding children called Nephalim, etcetera.”
    “That’s the ones. Once Jehovah saw what was going on, he sent an elite team of seraphim warriors – the Sentinels – down to punish the fallen Watchers. The Watchers lost their wings and became known as the Fallen. Wings and souls are connected, so without one they lost the other. Following?”
    “Soulless, wingless fallen angels. Got it.”
    He nodded. “Seraphim rely on their souls to survive. They don’t eat or drink the way mortals do. They absorb energy from the life-forces on earth.”
    “So they starved to death?”
    “I wish. No, they discovered they could feed from life in a more direct manner—”
    “They started drinking blood,” she finished. “Okay. So there are two kinds of vamps – those who are demons and those who were angels? That’s why Adrian lives on earth? To hunt and kill the Fallen angels?”
    “Jehovah has never ordered the death of an angel. Sammael wouldn’t be alive otherwise.”
    “True . . .” Satan was thriving. And she often wondered why, but that was a question no one seemed to have an answer for.
    “The Sentinels are supposed to contain the Fallen to areas where they can’t get into too much trouble.”
    “And Southern California is trouble galore. How many Sentinels are there?”
    “Not enough.”
    “Why send in just two of us undercover then? Wouldn’t more Marks be merrier?”
    “I would think so, but this isn’t my call. Marks can’t sniff out the Fallen.”
    “No souls translates into no smell?”
    “You got it. We can’t afford to have too many Marks tied up indefinitely, plus the cost of housing, a decent cover story, and so on. Our resources aren’t limitless.”
    “So we’re hunting someone who blends perfectly into the surroundings with nothing to give them away.” She made a frustrated noise. “What’s our cover?”
    “We’re Mr and Mrs Kline. We’re renting the resort space because I have to be in town on business and you’re a