Her Avenging Angel (Her Angel Romance Series Book 7) by Felicity Heaton Page B

not know what she is.” He moved in front of her, blocking Asmodeus’s path and earning a glare for his chivalry. “But I have to get her out of this place before the boss loses her temper.”
    He quickly snagged her wrist and pulled her with him, making a break for it. A hot jolt ran up his arm at the feel of her soft flesh giving beneath his bruising grip and she gasped, as if she had felt it too. He tugged her towards the door.
    Asmodeus stepped into his path. “Is she demonic?”
    Nevar growled. “I do not know.”
    “I have never seen a demon like her.” The dark angel pressed his palm to Nevar’s breastplate, holding him in place, and peered around him. “She is powerful.”
    He nodded. He could feel just how powerful she was now that he had his hand on her and it was far beyond the level that he had previously thought.
    It sent him back to his initial thoughts about her.
    “I do not think she is a demon.”
    Asmodeus drew back and studied him. “If not a demon, then what is she?”
    “I do not know.” Nevar rubbed his thumb across the inside of her wrist as she emerged from behind him, her free hand clutching the two pieces of silver material to hold her top up and her leathery wings curled around her shoulders in a protective way. He looked down at her. “What are you?”
    “Born of Hell.” She looked certain about that, but he still wasn’t sure she was a demon.
    There were other beings born of Hell that weren’t demon. Asmodeus was one of them. He was all that was evil in his angelic twin, Apollyon. The Devil had tortured Apollyon until he had lost all good and had then used his blood to create Asmodeus, his own powerful angel of destruction.
    Nevar took the two lengths of material from her and tied them behind her neck, afraid he would lose his temper if the top fell down and exposed her to Asmodeus’s golden eyes. He wasn’t strong enough to fight his master right now, but he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
    “Interesting, but we are leaving. Did you eat?” Asmodeus said and he shook his head.
    “I was rather preoccupied. The boss of this place told me to make her leave.”
    Asmodeus’s black eyebrows met in a hard frown and his gaze drilled into him. “Why you?”
    Nevar shrugged but could see his master wouldn’t take it as an answer. He scrubbed his hand over the jagged back of his white hair and flicked a glance at the female. Her hazel eyes flitted between him and Asmodeus, the glimmer of curiosity back in them.
    “Apparently, only I can understand the language she is speaking, although I do not know how.”
    “I can understand her.” Those words leaving Asmodeus’s lips gave him pause. The angel had understood her when she had informed them she was born of Hell.
    He looked back at Asmodeus. “How?”
    Asmodeus lifted his huge black wings in a shrug. “I did not question it. I understand many languages. Hers is as old as the Earth.”
    “It is still spoken?” Nevar said and the dark-haired male shook his head.
    “I have not heard it in millennia.”
    Nevar’s gaze drifted back down to her and she smiled, a beautiful one that struck him hard in his chest and knocked the wind from him. “How old are you?”
    She looked little more than thirty to his eyes, but then he was beyond two thousand years old and didn’t appear much older than she did.
    Her black eyebrows pinched together and she mimicked his master, lifting her slender pale shoulders and shifting the clawed tips of her wings. “I do not know. Ancient. I recall the birth of the King of Demons.”
    Asmodeus choked. “Excuse me?”
    She beamed at him. “I remember your creation, although I did not witness it.”
    Nevar stared at her. “Just how old are you and how can you recall the birth of Asmodeus but not the battle you survived?”
    Her hazel eyes turned troubled and she lowered her head, her smile falling away. “I do not know. It hurts when I try to remember it.”
    Asmodeus moved closer, studying her in