Emma Blake always felt at home in the shadows. It was where she lived, always concealing the truth from those around her.
Now as she hid in the doorway of an abandoned building, she couldn’t help but compare the current situation to her life. The dampness of the brick wall behind her seeped through to her skin, as she pushed further into the dark to avoid being noticed. The putrid smell of trash and urine barely registered, as she was mesmerized by the scene unfolding before her.
The scene invoked images of the endless battle forces of dark and light had been waging since the dawn of time.
Although beautiful to behold, the warrior who fought before her wasn’t exactly an angel, but he was as close to one as she would ever get. In desperate need of his help, she took a big chance sticking around; because once he caught her there were only two possibilities for her.
He’d either help her or he would kill her.
The air blew chilly on this damp, drizzly day in Atlanta, a city that for some unknown reason, in the last few years, had become a hotbed for demons. With such an influx of demons, human assaults were on the rise.
Emma continued to watch from the shelter of the doorway, as the Protector fought his aggressors. Ten huge low-level demons armed with medieval-type swords.
She tensed, but didn’t flinch as a demon’s severed arm flew past her and hit the ground next to her foot with a sickening thud.
Emma had no doubt as to whom the victor would be in the end. The fluidity of the Protector’s movements and the speed of the fight enthralled her. Her gaze locked on his biceps. Muscles bulged on his right arm, as he swung his sword in a way that seemed almost effortless. Impressive, for the weapon he wielded had to weigh at least twenty pounds.