Marked For Death: A Dark Urban Fantasy Novel by Becca Blake (english novels to improve english .txt) 📕

trained fighters with more years of experience than I’d been alive, but how many helpless residents like Ted were dying as we fled?

Raxael must have summoned the hounds throughout all of Haygrove, not just in the Courtyard, as we found them everywhere we turned. Several of the structures along my street had been set aflame, though it didn’t look like the fire had made it to my house yet.

Jacob hopped into the driver’s seat of my Cavalier and started the engine. “Run in and get our bags!”

I ran inside, trying not to let myself focus on the fact that, one way or another, it was probably for the last time. There would be no time to go through any belongings or do any of the packing I’d intended to do that day. I would have nothing but our go bags, which sat waiting in the entryway. I slung mine over my shoulder and picked up Jacob’s, then paused to look up the stairs.

“Dammit,” I muttered as I took the steps two at a time. This was my last chance to get anything to remember my family by, and I would never forgive myself if I left empty-handed.

I ran into my dad’s room and found a framed photo of him and my mother holding me as a child. I tossed it and my dad’s old western novel into my bag and hurried back downstairs. As I started out the door, I realized there was one more thing I couldn’t leave behind. I sprinted back inside for Ayla’s old daggers, which I’d been keeping on the mantle above the fireplace.

The extra trip into the house gave a pack of hellhounds time to catch up to us. They leaped out from the bushes and rushed for the car. I picked up my pace and dove into the backseat. When I tried to pull the door shut behind me, a hellhound’s muzzle got in the way. It snarled, gnashing its teeth as it tried to get to me.

I felt the heat of its breath on my leg as I tried to kick it away.

“Drive!” I shouted.

Tires screeched as Jacob slammed on the gas and backed out of the driveway, knocking the hellhound away from the door. I pulled it shut and leaned back against the seat to catch my breath.

The rest of the hounds chased after us, but even with their size and speed, they weren’t able to catch up to the car. Once they were a safe distance away, I climbed into the front seat next to Jacob and buckled my seatbelt.

We were almost out of Haygrove—almost free.

A flaming telephone pole cracked as we drove by, and Jacob swerved to avoid it. I grabbed the handle above the door and held on tight. My poor Cavalier wasn’t built for driving like this. Jacob maneuvered around the hellhounds and people in the streets, until the edge of town was finally in view.

I almost expected Marcus to somehow leap out from a building and stop the car, but as we crossed out of Haygrove and onto the open road ahead, our path stayed clear.

Settling back into the passenger seat, I sighed. My shoulder hurt like all the infernal hells, and we were both exhausted. But though Haygrove burned in the rear-view mirror, we were alive.

“I can’t believe we did it,” I said.

Before Jacob could respond, a dark figure flickered in front of the car, and he slammed hard on the brakes.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The car’s momentum sent us spinning, and we came to a stop facing Haygrove. In the distance, the dark grey smoke marred the otherwise clear sky. As everything around us stilled, the wind carried the faint sounds of screaming.

Aside from the infernal wound from the hellhound that still burned, I wasn’t injured. I looked over at Jacob, who appeared rattled but was otherwise fine.

“What was that?” I wheezed.

I jumped at the sound of an insistent tapping on my window. My brain took a few seconds to catch up to the present and identify the familiar man standing outside.

Raxael had returned to his human form. His pristine jet black hair appeared untouched by the chaos we left behind, and his bright green eyes were fixed on me. A smug smile pulled his lips up into a sneer.

He tapped on the window again.

I looked over my shoulder at the back seat. My duffel bag must have been unzipped, as its contents were now scattered across the back of the car. My sword peeked out from under the driver’s seat, just out of reach.

Not that I would be able to get to any of it before Raxael shifted inside the car to stop me.

As I fumbled for the buckle to my seatbelt, my fingers brushed against the gun holstered at my hip, which was still loaded with enchanted bullets. If I could reposition myself and get the door open, maybe I could get a shot off before he realized what I was doing.

Would a gunshot hurt a demon lord? Or would it just piss him off?

If it didn’t hurt him, or if I missed, I’d be dead before I had a chance to try anything else. And after our fight to escape the burning town, I wasn’t in any condition to try fighting him.

This time, Raxael didn’t bother knocking on my window. He opened my door and dragged me out of the vehicle. My elbow cracked against the pavement as he shoved me down.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting.” He shifted to the other side and pulled Jacob out, just as he’d done to me.

I started to pull myself upright, but I froze when Raxael appeared in front of me once more.

“I remember you two.” He circled me with slow, predatory steps. “You interfered with his evaluation and spoiled all my fun, and you were there again when I came to collect a debt from one of my followers.”

“I remember,” I said.

“I assume you don’t know who I am, since your Council insists on hiding everything.”

“Raxael,”