Gargoyle Reaper (Shadow Slayers #2)

Chapter One

Ezekiel's massive form cut through the night sky, his stony skin impervious to the biting cold With immense power, his large, grey wings flapped against the fierce winds, propelling him forward to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross, under which the East Coast Shadow Slayer lair was located His talons flexed instinctively, ready to grip the cathedral’s surface as he descended toward the twinkling lights of downtown.

As he neared his destination, Ezekiel's keen eyes scanned the city

The streets boasted a multitude of holiday decorations, lit with twinkling lights

The streets were dusted with a layer of fresh snow that glittered from the bright display, reminiscent of a picture on a Christmas card.

The irony of the festive scene wasn't lost on Ezekiel

While humans celebrated the joyous time of the year with friends and family, he and his fellow Shadow Slayers fought an eternal battle against darkness.

As he approached the cathedral's spire, Ezekiel's wings folded close to his body, allowing him to dive gracefully toward a hidden entrance

With practiced ease, he landed silently on the cathedral's roof, his claws finding purchase on the weathered stone

In an instant, his massive form shimmered and contracted, the rough grey skin smoothing into a cool bronze as he shifted back to his human appearance

Ezekiel straightened his leather jacket and ran his palm across the top of his head, mentally preparing himself to enter the world of mortals once more.

He slipped through a hidden entrance behind an iron buttress, then quickly descended stone steps enclosed behind the wall

Midnight had already come and gone, so he wasn’t worried about being caught lurking about

What gripped him in fear was whether he was in time to save Ronen, a slayer who a rogue demon had mercilessly tortured.

The fact that the rogues were now doing some of the dirty work typically reserved for the shadow gargoyles didn’t portend well

Perhaps they believed their mission to steal enough holy relics so they could plunge the world into darkness and seize the reins of power from Lucifer was failing, and they needed to move the proceedings along.

When Michael summoned him to heal the gravely injured Ronen, the archangel hadn’t shared many details, so Ezekiel could only guess how much Ronen had revealed to the demon—if anything at all

While the injured slayer was an excellent warrior, he was a newer recruit

How resilient he was to torture was in question

On the other hand, he might not know enough about their operations yet to have caused much harm to their mission.

Ezekiel’s footsteps echoed softly through the narrow passageway as he moved deeper into the cathedral’s hidden chambers

The air grew thick with the scent of incense and something else—the metallic tang of blood

His heart raced, worry for Ronen gnawing at his gut.

Once he entered the makeshift infirmary inside a dimly lit chamber, his eyes fell upon Ronen’s prone form

The sight that greeted him made his stomach churn

Ronen lay on a stone altar, his body a canvas of cuts and bruises

The rogue demon's handiwork was evident in the intricate patterns carved into Ronen’s skin, symbols of vile shapes meant to encase Ronen’s spirit, to prevent him from fighting for his light.

The healing would require a difficult combination of physical restoration combined with spiritual renewal

These sessions were always the most taxing on him

While he loved and embraced his role as the official Shadow Slayer healer, the unending battle with the dark forces had become more draining as of late

The Grim Reaper might have shed every speck of light left inside to ensure that Ezekiel would have as much power as possible, but there was only so much he could handle

The battles had become more frequent and brutal

And now, with the rogue demons entering the fray? He feared he couldn’t keep up with the demands being placed on him.

“About time you showed up, Zeke,”

a familiar voice drawled from the corner. Cassiel, another Shadow Slayer, pushed off the wall she'd been leaning against. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost in all that holiday cheer up there.”

Ezekiel grunted. “Hardly. Not feeling all that cheery these days.”

Cassiel's smirk faded as she approached, her eyes softening with concern. “I know, Zeke. None of us are. But we need you at your best right now.”

Ezekiel nodded, steeling himself as he moved to Ronen’s side. He placed his hands gently on the wounded Slayer’s chest, closing his eyes to focus his energy. A soft golden glow emanated from his palms, seeping into Ronen's battered flesh.

“What happened?”

Ezekiel gritted his teeth, furrowing his brow as he struggled to concentrate his light on Ronen.

Cassiel sighed heavily

“Ambush

The demon caught him off guard near Copley Square

We believe they’re after information regarding the relic the seers believe are here.”

Several of the mated Nephilim had been gifted with the ability to sense the presence of holy relics, which is why those who were mated and exhibited the gift were located in different parts of the globe

As of yet, they could only vibe out general locations and only that the item was holy—not what it actually was

Ezekiel figured the demons couldn’t possibly be aware of that information.

He shuddered at the thought if they did know

They would then be more likely to steal a Nephilim than a gargoyle

The idea of a pregnant Nephilim being taken and tortured filled him with dread

No one should be tortured ever, but that felt even more egregious. Should he ever be given his Fated One, he’d be destroyed if such a thing happened.

Ezekiel drew his eyebrows together. “Did they find out anything?”

“We don't know yet.”

She pressed her lips together. “He's been unconscious since we found him.”

He nodded, understanding the implication. If the demons had gotten what they wanted, Ronen would likely be dead. The fact that he was still breathing meant they probably hadn’t broken him.

Yet.

Ezekiel continued pouring healing energy into Ronen's battered body, the younger Slayer's spirit flickering weakly. The demonic symbols carved into his flesh were like anchors, dragging Ronen’s essence down into darkness. He gritted his teeth again, pushing harder against the malevolent magic.

“Come on, Ronen,”

he muttered. “Fight this.”

Sweat beaded on Ezekiel's forehead as he worked, the golden light from his hands intensifying, pulsing steadily, knitting together torn flesh and mending broken bones. Slowly, painstakingly, the wounds started to close. Finally, the demonic symbols faded, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin.

Ronen's eyes flew open, wild with panic. He thrashed against Ezekiel’s touch, nearly toppling off the altar.

“Whoa, easy there.”

Ezekiel laid his hands on Ronen’s shoulders, gently restraining him. “You're safe now. You're with us.”

Ronen's eyes darted around frantically before focusing on Ezekiel's face. Recognition dawned, and he relaxed slightly, though his breathing remained ragged.

“Ezekiel?”

Ronen croaked, his voice hoarse. “What...”

He licked his cracked lips. “Where am I?"

“Back at HQ,”

Cassiel chimed in, stepping closer. “You gave us quite a scare, rookie.”

Ezekiel helped Ronen sit up slowly, keeping a steadying hand at his back. “How much do you remember?”

Ronen's brow creased. “I was... patrolling near Copley Square. That was where the seer at the Cape felt a relic might be found. I thought the library was a good possibility. I mean, who knows?”

He shrugged. “The only description from the seer was that the artifact was small enough to carry.”

Cassiel crossed her arms. “So it wasn’t bigger than a bread box?”

Ezekiel sighed. “Cass. Please. If you’re going to use human sayings, at least choose them from this century.”

She tilted her head. “Mortals don’t use breadboxes anymore?”

Ezekiel pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we stay on topic?”

Cassie muttered under her breath, something about cranky gargoyles being big know-it-alls. He didn’t have time to get into it with her. At any moment, the shadow gargoyles could find the mysterious relic. Even worse, the demons seemed to be on the hunt now, too. He wasn’t sure how long they could stay ahead of them with the added forces.

Ezekiel regarded Ronen. “Sorry about that. So, you were heading toward the library. Were you in the park, or…?”

“I…”

He rubbed his forehead. “A lot of it is blurry. But yes. I remember thinking that area was a logical place to begin looking for a hidden artifact, it would be somewhere in the large library.”

“Makes sense. So, you were on your way to the library, and it’s late at night, so no one’s around. What’s the next thing you remember after that?”

Ronen pressed his lips in a severe line, frowning as if he could summon his memory to the surface. “I…”

His shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. The only thing I remember after that is pain.”

He shuddered. “So much fucking pain.”

“Hmm.”

Ezekiel rubbed his chin. “Nothing about the interrogation, what they’re looking for, were asking you? Nothing?”

“I wish I could remember.”

Ronan shook his head. “I know I’m not much help.”

Ezekiel turned to Cassiel. “How did you find him?”

“When he didn’t check in, I went searching.”

She crossed her arms. “He was dumped in some bushes near the library. He was barely hidden, almost as if he was meant to be found.”

Ezekiel's eyes narrowed. “That's unusual. They don’t normally leave survivors.”

“Exactly.”

Cassiel nodded grimly. "Which means they either got what they wanted or...”

“Or they're trying to send us a message,”

Ezekiel finished. “Fuck.”

Ronen regarded him with wide eyes, fear etched on his features. “What kind of message?”

Ezekiel sighed, placing a hand on Ronen’s shoulder. “That they're getting bolder. That they're not afraid to come after us directly now.”

Cassiel’s jaw clenched. “We need to inform Michael. If the demons truly are working with the shadow gargoyles, we're going to need all hands on deck.”

As if on cue, a shimmering light filled the room, coalescing into the form of Archangel Michael. His ethereal presence commanded attention, his wings folded neatly behind his back as he surveyed the room with piercing blue eyes.

“I'm afraid the situation is even more dire than you realize.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at Ezekiel before continuing. “Glad you made it in time to save him. Anyway, I’ve just returned from a nice lunch with Lucifer, and he’s informed me that the demons have grown impatient with their shadow gargoyle minions. They’ve decided that things will move along faster if they join in the fun.”

“And by fun, you mean torturing and killing?”

Ezekiel growled.

“Wait.”

Cassiel frowned. “Did you say you had a nice lunch with Lucifer?”

Michael sighed. “He’s not my angel bestie by a long shot, but we’re all on the same side right now. As soon as this demon uprising is handled, we can return to hissing at each other.”

Frustration overtook Ezekiel. “And in the meantime, how do we move forward? I’m only one healer. If the situation is more volatile now, and the demons are using these new tactics, we’ll be overwhelmed in no time.”

“Clearly,”

said Michael. “I’ve already discussed this with the Divine Spark. We’re going to bring in more gargoyle recruits, including those who have mated or haven’t been appointed already.”

Michael dusted his arms as if the lair was making him dirty. “You should also know that we’ve recently taken in some shadow gargoyle defectors who want to return to the light.”

“Oh perfect,”

sniped Cassiel. “Now we’re working with traitors. What could possibly go wrong?”

Michael still hadn’t answered the most pressing question from Ezekiel’s point of view.

“Michael, I understand that reinforcements are sorely needed now. But that won’t solve the issue of the ones who are injured. I’m drained every time I use my essence to heal another, and Ronen’s injuries were particularly vile.”

Ezekiel shook his head. “As I stand here speaking with you, I’m still not completely replenished. What if several slayers were to be brought in at once?”

Ezekiel locked eyes with Michael. “I need help. Aren’t there other angels who can provide the healing light here on earth?”

Michael’s eyes held a hint of amusement. The archangel was seriously beginning to piss him off. “Heaven’s population isn’t coming down to earth on an ongoing basis.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s bad enough this annoying situation has forced me to spend more time here than I care for.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “But I believe you’ll find your prayers answered in good time.”

One of his least favorite aspects of Michael was his propensity for being cryptic. As far as he was concerned, Michael should be more forthcoming, considering how dire the circumstances were. Ezekiel wasn’t a big fan of games.

“Not enjoying your time here is one thing.”

Ezekiel crossed his arms, hoping his stance signaled to Michael that he wasn’t amused. “How about we discuss what needs to be done in the meantime?”

Michael stared him down. “As I said, everyone is being called into action.”

He turned to Cassiel. “Choose a slayer in the lair, your best. Then you, Ezekiel and whoever you pick will use the seer’s impressions to hunt down the relic.”

He sighed. “There’s no more time to waste, and I have an appointment with the Heavenly Choir that I’m late for. So many holiday preparations.”

Ezekiel barely bit back an acerbic comment before Michael continued. “If you need anything, Uriel is in the region and can be called upon.”

Cassiel nodded briskly. “Understood. I'll gather the team, and we'll head out immediately.”

As Michael vanished in a flash of light, Ezekiel turned to Ronen. “You should rest here and recover. We'll need you back at full strength soon enough.”

Ronen moved to stand but wobbled, clearly still drained from his ordeal. “I’ll head to my room.”

“Not from the looks of it.”

Ezekiel helped him to his feet, then turned to Cassiel. "Who do you have in mind for our third?”

Cassiel smirked. “Oh, I think you know exactly who I'm thinking of.”

Ezekiel groaned. “Not Darius. Anyone but him.”

“Come on, Zeke. He's our best tracker, and you know it.”

Cassiel nudged his ribs with her elbow. “Plus, this gives you two a chance to kiss and make up.”

Ezekiel pursed his lips. “The absolute last thing I wish to do with that gargoyle is kiss him. He doesn’t know how to take no for an answer, and I don’t appreciate that.”

While many of his fellow slayers got some whenever and with whoever they could until their mates came along, Ezekiel found his right hand did the job effectively. It also didn’t leave him with an empty spot in his heart after the deed was done, and he realized he was still alone.

Cassiel nudged him again while he struggled to help Ronen out of the room. “Don’t you mean he got a bit too tailsy with you?”

Ezekiel groaned. Why me? “Not funny, Cass. Not even close.”

She moved to the other side of Ronen and draped his arm around her neck. “Come on. Admit it. That was hilarious. Who doesn’t love some great tail play?”

Ezekiel decided not to encourage her by continuing the conversation. As they made their way down the long hallway of the stone lair, his mind wandered to what Michael had revealed. If he was being called to duty despite being a healer, and the mated slayers were being brought back, were they on the brink of losing the battle completely?

He forced his own selfish needs from his mind. The fate of all was what mattered, not whether he ever found his mate. Ezekiel swallowed hard. If only he could’ve touched his mate one time.