The Nightmare in Him (Devil’s Cradle #2) Read Online Suzanne Wright

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors: Series: Devil's Cradle Series by Suzanne Wright
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Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
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Soon, the terrified, pain-filled screams faded to whimpers. And those whimpers eventually lost their strength until, finally, they stopped altogether. A feminine laugh that rang with power and was so very other filled the air. Kali.

There was a feral roar of triumph, and then pure silence. A distinct thud told Anabel that Wynter’s monster had withdrawn, causing the Priestess’s unconscious body to hit the floor. Crap.

Anabel and the others hurried into the living room. Jesus Christ on a goddamn cross, there was blood everywhere. Not much remained of Saul or Demetria. A few limbs, brain matter, and half a head. Ew.

Wynter lay among her monster’s left-overs, out cold. Sometimes she passed out. Sometimes she didn’t. It was weird.

Delilah crouched beside their Priestess, who stirred with a moan. “You’re okay, Wyn; they’re both dead.”

Sitting upright, Wynter groaned as she took in her surroundings. “Hell, what a mess.”

“We can clean it later.” Xavier frowned at her appearance. “And you.”

The poor woman was covered in not only blood but fragments of bone, brain, skull, and guts. But none of it detracted from the metallic blue mark of Kali that now decorated one side of Wynter’s face. A mark that often came and went.

Nodding, Wynter got to her feet, her expression solemn. “We have to get to the surface right the fuck now. First, we gotta call on Mary.”

Anabel braced herself. “Do it. But please make sure she doesn’t eat any teeth this time—they’re murder on my digestive system.” And they hurt her ass on the way out.

“Done,” said Wynter. “Mary, Mary, please come out.”

As a shower of rocks, pebbles, and sand came flying his way, Cain shoved out his palm, emitting a wave of power that “caught” the shower and caused the fragments to disintegrate. That same shower soon began to buzz frantically as it became a cloud of killer bees. Cain directed the flying insects at the invaders up ahead of him.

Hands dropped arrows and bows as they batted at the angry wasps and slapped at their own flesh to kill the insects. Some troops staggered forward and toppled right over the cliff or crashed into fellow soldiers and knocked them down.

Behind the line of troops he used like a shield, Abel zapped the killer bees with power . . . just as he’d done to the locusts and tiger mosquitos that Cain had sent his way earlier.

The Aeons were experts at calling on and using the natural elements. Abel repeatedly utilized said ability as he attacked Cain hard. And Cain, well, he did what he did best. He twisted the elemental power. Tainted it. Morphed it. Used it against its wielder over and over. It was an ability that only Cain possessed.

With a snarl, Abel whipped out his arm. A white-hot spear of light struck Cain’s shoulder, melting cloth and skin as it burned like a firebrand and pissed off his inner creature.

Clenching his teeth against the pain, Cain retaliated with a ball of crackling power. It crashed into the troops protecting Abel, cleaving into them like a chainsaw to leave their leader exposed. But more troops were quick to replace those that fell. Just the same, Abel was quick to again strike at Cain. They went back to trading blows as cries, curses, explosions and screams continued to ring through the air.

A hiss came from somewhere beside Cain and then . . . “Fucking shockwaves,” spat Azazel.

Just then, yet another wave of flaming arrows were released. Several sank into a passing dragon, who roared out a blast of fire that lit up the offending troops like Christmas trees.

Since the battle began, row after row of arrows had repeatedly darted through the sky and descended on the town. Some were quickly extinguished by power or magick before they could even hit the ground. But others landed—hitting residents, houses, trees, warehouses, and other buildings.

Many of the bowmen had originally aimed straight for the manor in what had been a clear attempt to burn it down. They had eventually given up, seeming to realize that magickal wards protected the building. Really, it took them long enough to pick up on it.

Not all troops used bows and arrows. Others appeared to be witches, warlocks, and mages—they attacked with magick, and they attacked hard. But the aides standing in front of the manor worked to deflect and retaliate against the magickal strikes, leaving the Ancients able to concentrate on the Aeons.

“Anyone seen any signs of Saul?” Seth called out.

“No,” Cain shouted without looking away from Abel, who would leap on any advantage given.

Abel wasn’t an easy man to hurt. Not only due to the troops acting as living shields, but because he fought well. Always had. Which was no surprise, given that he was the protégé of Adam—the best wielder of elemental power among his kind.


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