Vessel: The Demontouched Saga (Book 4) by Douglas Wayne Page A

his new threat. Blood shoots out of the front of Neil’s face when the bullet hits home, sending him to the ground in a heap.
    “NO!” Alana screams before taking out the shooter with a volley of precise fire.
    I kneel down in front of the kid, drawing his soul into my eyes as his body falls limp in front of me.
    Alana, changes her magazine out as it empties. Shortly after she is walking ahead taking shots at the people ahead of us.
    “Get behind cover!” I shout. But in her blood lust, Alana ignores my pleas. Ducking behind cover, I watch as she gets five yards away before she takes a shot to the leg, bringing her to her knees. With her mobility reduced, the attackers pounce sending three quick bullets to her chest sending her body to the pavement.
    “Well,” Nal says, ducking down next to me. “Our odds are back to two to one.”
    “With one of them being a demon,” I say.
    Nal nods. “One of these days I’ll learn to stop messing with them.”
    I laugh. “Too late to stop today,” I say, handing him Neil’s rifle.
    “Ready?” he asks.
    I nod.
    We stand up, facing the four men on the other side of the street. The men that are left are set up in a near semi-circle, guns trained on our position.
    “Impressive work, Demontouched,” the tattooed one says. “But your fun is over.”
    “Fun’s over when I say it is, asshole.” Nal fires his rifle, hitting him in the head. Tattoo’s head jerks back rapidly sending him stumbling, but his body refuses to fall.
    “You have to do better than that,” he says laughing. He bends forward, revealing the bullet hole in his forehead. Within moments, however, the wound closes looking like nothing happened shortly after.
    “Well shit,” Nal says lowering his weapon.
    “Wise choice,” the tattooed man says, spitting the bullet on the ground before looking at me. “How about you, Mitch? Want to play?”
    “How the hell do you know my name?”
    “I know everything about you,” he says dismissing his goons. “And your little pet, Roman.”
    “I doubt that,” I say, gripping my blades tightly.
    “Why did you leave me?” he says using Linda’s voice.
    “How the hell did you do that?” I say, knuckles turning white. It’s been over three years since I last heard that voice. As you can imagine this was the last place I expected to hear it again.
    “The same way I did this,” he says in Jack’s voice.
    Nal places his arm on my chest. “Don’t fall for it, Mitch.”
    “Fall for what?” I say stepping forward. “I don’t know how he knew those voices but I’m going to beat it out of him.”
    The tattooed guy laughs for a few minutes before coming to an abrupt stop. his eyes widen before he turns around and darts into the house.
    “What did you do?” Nal asks.
    I shrug. “Not sure,” I stay, taking a few steps forward.
    “I think I know,” I hear from a familiar voice behind me.
    “Nancy?” I say turning around to see my old friend. Nancy moves to the side revealing a short woman behind her. From the way her hair is matted over her filthy face I can tell she is definitely out of it. She doesn’t look like she is under the influence of drugs or anything. From here she almost looks exhausted.
    “Not exactly,” she says, looking me over.
    From head to toe she is a dead ringer for the woman I left in the hospital a while back. From the way she is getting around I can tell she’s gotten over being shot in the past few weeks. On her hip she holds an angel blade, similar to my own, but slightly longer.
    “What do you mean, not exactly?” Nal says, raising his gun at her.
    She holds her hands open, to her side. “She is still here, I assure you. Just… absent.”
    “Absent?”
    She blinks her eyes revealing a bright white light before closing them again. “She has become a vessel.”
    “For an angel?” I say.
    She nods. “I am Malachi. I have been sent by Micheal to prepare you for war.”
    “What war?” I say. “Armageddon?”
    “Not