Eternal Flame (Guardians, Book One) by Valerie Twombly by Valerie Twombly

he entered New Orleans.
    * * * *
    Odage dressed in dark jeans, a crisp, white button-down shirt and a black jacket. Booted feet touched the sidewalk, breaking the silence of the quiet street.
    The neighborhood fit his needs. It sat on the outskirts of New Orleans. The residents spent their evenings in front of the television, absorbed in a reality show, never bothering to consider the realism in their own front yards. A few of the homeless picked through the trash, looking for food and trinkets the self-absorbed humans grew tired of and tossed like yesterday’s news.
    He scanned and found a tall man rummaging through the garbage in front of a small brick home. He assessed his prey. Six foot five, medium build, around forty—he looked undernourished. Perfect.
    He approached the man and spoke in a hushed tone. “Sir, may I buy you a warm meal and a cup of coffee?”
    The man looked up, his blue eyes misted. “God bless you, kind sir. I’d be much obliged. I’d be happy to repay you, but I have no money.” The man threw his shoulders back and straightened his spine. “I can work, though.”
    “Oh, I am sure we can arrange something, my good man.” Odage wrapped an arm around his victim’s shoulder and before the man could react, sank sharp teeth into muscle and bone. His incisors extended to pump poison into his whimpering victim. Partially shifting, he encased his prey in a black, leathery wing then waited for the poison to take effect.
    The victim’s heart pumped violently while a plea for help stuck in his throat. As soon as the chaos started, it ended. The body went limp, and Odage let him fall to the ground like a sack of garbage. He closed his eyes and shifted back to human form then scanned the area again for any approaching humans. It would take several minutes for death to come.
    Odage observed with a callous grin as the body spasmed in a violent fit. Spittle spewed from the man’s mouth, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. With one last brutal shake, he gasped for breath then went silent. Odage looked at his watch, still time to attend the slave auction. Pulling a syringe from his pocket, he tapped it, making sure there were no bubbles. The green liquid inside cast an eerie glow before he plunged the needle into the man’s heart. He waited.
    His nerves stretched so thin they might snap as he paced back and forth on the sidewalk. He grew tired of waiting. The transformation took longer than expected. The demon who sold him the vile promised it contained the freshest blood. Had guaranteed it would bring back the dead, his own minion. Odage smiled, who knew the blood of a Kothar demon held so much power. No wonder they were prized in the slave market. Perhaps he should consider bidding on one himself.
    He glanced at his watch again; ten minutes had passed. He was about to give up hope when the man gasped for air. In a blink, he came to stand over the body, hovering while the man opened his eyes. Excellent, the minion’s eyes had changed from pale blue to black, indicating his soul now resided in the depths of hell.
    “Rise,” he commanded, taking a step back to survey his handiwork. The minion appeared younger and more solid. His muscle mass four times its former size.
    The minion looked at Odage and responded. “How may I serve you, master?”
    Odage spun around when he heard a voice behind him.
    * * * *
    After leaving the redhead a half hour before, Marcus’s temper hadn’t improved. So occupied with thoughts of Cassie that it slipped his mind why he’d been sent. Fucking Christ, maybe I should go back to Roxie’s. He scrubbed his face, no point in going back. He’d wait and see what the others had found out. One thing was certain, he’d better dampen his emotions before he scared the humans. How the hell had a slip of a woman gotten under his skin?
    Once inside the coffee shop, he spotted the other two warriors waiting. It was late, so they had the place to themselves. He pulled out a