Eve of Destruction by S. J. Day

exchange, but her merriment faded when she caught Gadara’s gaze.
    “Ms. Hollis. Please ensure that things flow smoothly in the women’s quarters. There are air mattresses over there.” Gadara pointed at the pile of equipment in front of the garage.
    Laurel scowled. “Why is she in charge?”
    “She is the only one of you to have actual field experience.”
    “Yeah, and she got the shit kicked out of her.”
    The class didn’t know that she had died, Eve realized with some surprise, which made her wonder if her resurrection was a big secret.
    Gadara’s dark eyes took on a warning gleam. “Humor me, please, Ms. Hogan.”
    Laurel shot an arch glance at Eve. Romeo set his arm around her waist and murmured in her ear.
    Eve’s chin lifted. Of course Gadara would stoke the animosity. From the beginning, he’d made her marking as difficult as possible. It was his way of keeping Alec under his thumb.
    “Mr. Edwards.” The archangel turned away. “Please oversee the arranging of the men’s quarters, especially the kitchen. We will begin dinner preparations when I return.”
    “Are we hunting tonight?” Ken asked.
    Gadara shook his head. “No. Tonight is about settling in and preparing for tomorrow.”
    “Then we better get started,” Eve said before heading toward the ladies’ side. The other women fell into step behind her.
    The sun was dipping low on the horizon, streaking the sky with jeweled hues. The view was breathtaking, and Eve paused on the small cement porch step to take it in.
    “Maybe it won’t be so dodgy here after all,” Laurel said.
    “Maybe,” Eve agreed, hoping that was true.
    The comfortable stillness was shattered by the howl of a wolf in the distance. A chill coursed down Eve’s spine.
    “There are wolves at the beach?” Claire asked in a whisper.
    “
Were
wolves,” Izzie corrected grimly.
    As the color of the sky took on the hue of blood, Eve’s enjoyment in its beauty fled. The evening air took on an ominous, oppressive weight.
    They were out there. Infernals. Waiting, as the Marks were, for orders to kill. They passed their time toying with mortals, leading them to the edge of Hell, then shoving them over.
    Eve pushed open the unlocked door and gestured for the others to enter to safety before her. “Let’s get inside.”
     
    “G’day, mates.”
    Reed smiled at the Aussie greeting. “It’s past midnight.”
    “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Les Goodman said, gesturing them into his small but well-kept house in Victoria Park. As the Australian handler who’dwitnessed the most recent attack by their mystery Infernal, he was the reason Reed and Mariel were Down Under. He’d been tied up with the formalities that followed a Mark killing and had finally called Reed to come over about thirty minutes ago.
    “I wanted to record my report while everything was still fresh in my mind,” Les explained as they moved into a comfortable living room furnished with brown leather furniture and sturdy wooden pieces. “Not that I will ever forget, mind. I’ll have nightmares about what happened to my Mark forever.”
    “Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr. Goodman,” Mariel said. “We wish we were here under happier circumstances. We’re very sorry for your loss.”
    “Thank you. Call me Les, please.”
    Mariel wore a loose floral dress and coordinating blue sweater, which gave her a casual and approachable air. Her wild flame-red hair, however, was pure seduction, but Les didn’t appear to be affected as most single men were.
    “You know Abel, of course,” she said.
    Les extended his hand to Reed. “Yes, of course. Welcome, Abel. It’s an honor to have you here.”
    Reed accepted Les’s handshake, noting the strength and confidence conveyed by the
mal’akh
’s grip. Les was blond, his skin darkened and weathered by the sun, his appearance arrested to look as if he was somewhere in his midforties. Grief weighed heavily upon his broad shoulders and bracketed his mouth and