ONE SPARK WILL RISE. Nina Kane was born to be an exorcist. And since uncovering the horrifying truth—that the war against demons is far from over—seventeen-year-old Nina and her pregnant younger sister, Mellie, have been on the run, incinerating the remains of the demon horde as they go.
In the badlands, Nina, Mellie, and Finn, the fugitive and rogue exorcist who saved her life, find allies in a group of freedom fighters. They also face a new threat: Pandemonia, a city full of demons. But this fresh new hell is the least of Nina’s worries. The well of souls ran dry more than a century ago, drained by the demons secretly living among humans, and without a donor soul, Mellie’s child will die within hours of its birth.
Nina isn’t about to let that happen . . . even if it means she has to make the ultimate sacrifice.
*Published by Mira Ink*
The weapon buzzed, and I realized it was a stun gun. They’d come armed not to kill, but to capture.
The Church still wanted us alive.
“Watch out! Stun guns!” I shouted as I rolled over and leapt to my feet.
The demon was on me in an instant. I tried to kick the weapon from his grip but missed his hand entirely. He was too fast. Too strong. After fighting only mutated and relatively weak degenerates in the badlands, I was out of practice battling demons in their prime, and the number of pained grunts bursting from my fellow exorcists said I was not alone.
Time to step up my game.
The demon cop lunged again and I blocked his gun-arm, then kicked him in the chest, as hard as I could. Breath exploded from his mouth and the demon flew backward several feet. I was on him before he could stand, my hand already alight with the force that would scorch him from his stolen body and eject him from the human world. For just a second, as I pressed that living flame to his chest and listened to his flesh sizzle, I felt…peaceful.
I was born for this.
Behind me, the grunts and thumps were winding down, and when the body beneath my hand fell limp, I turned to see that we had won the fight.
It wasn’t even close, really. I counted six men in white-embroidered navy police cassocks, each now sporting a scorched and smoldering hole in his chest. The two survivors were the human delivery men who’d been driving the cargo. Both now stood with their backs against the first of the two green supply trucks with their hands in the air, while Finn aimed his automatic rifle at them.
“What’s the plan for these two?” he asked, his aim unwavering. Maddock considered the question for a moment. “Cuff ‘em and leave ‘em in the escort vehicle.”
“I’m on it.” Devi squatted next to one of the dead cops, then stood with his handcuffs. While she and Finn restrained the civilians, Maddock searched the bodies until he found the keys to the cargo compartments. He unlocked the rear of the first truck and rolled the door up to reveal the shipment.
Relief washed over me like a cool breeze on a hot day, easing the most immediate of my fears. Our famine was over, at least for a while.
“Holy shit,” Reese breathed, as he rounded the back of the vehicle. The truck was stacked full of boxes, floor to ceiling, front to back. Even if the second vehicle was empty—and it wouldn’t be—we’d found way more than we could carry.
Each box was clearly labeled, and at a glance, I noticed crates of canned and dry goods, boxes of clothing bound for department stores, cleaning supplies, text books, and more toiletries than I’d ever seen in my life.
“They put all their eggs in one basket,” Maddock said, his voice hollow with surprise. “They must have thought we wouldn’t attack an armed caravan.”
“Or they were hoping we would,”