Free Demon Squad 6 The Best of Enemies by Tim Marquitz

it filled with the murderous bee stings of gunfire. A quick shield around us deflected the worst of it and gave us a chance to see what we were in for. It didn’t look good.
    All along the rooftops were men in generic SWAT gear, the spitting barrels of AR-15s trained on us. It took all of a split second for me to figure out who they were.
    “DSI,” I muttered, knowing the mass of civilian cannon fodder were the least of our worries. “Watch out for—”
    The rest of my warning was drowned out by the earth-shaking stomp of the Nephilim, Jorn. All six hundred plus pounds of big boy charged out of a nearby alley. Bald head tucked low, puppy dog jowls flapping in the wind of his passage, he roared at me, lunch pail fists clenched and ready to throw.
    Unfortunately for him, he hadn’t thought his move through.
    Even discounting my change of status in the food chain—and I’d kicked his ass as the old me—he clearly hadn’t given any thought to the angel standing at my side who, at the very least, had a bone to pick with his tubby butt.
    “Oh. No. Way.” The words sputtered out of Scarlett’s mouth like bean farts.
    Jorn had been involved in the welcoming party when Scarlett fled Heaven in search of help not too long back. He, Venai, who no doubt lingered somewhere in the vicinity, and their dear departed friend, Zellick—Starbucks bless his dead ass—had jumped my little cousin to try to keep her from finding that help. Even as wounded as she was when they’d come across her, and after they’d added more than their fair share of damage on top of that, she still managed to make it to my house. The rest, as they say, is the History Channel. All three got sent packing with a boot up their rectums.
    “Stay behind the shield,” I called out. Mad as Scarlett was, she needed a reminder to remain cool. She was one of those fighters willing to take a shot to give one. Tubbs wasn’t there alone, though, and while the gunfire had slackened, I wouldn’t put it past Rebecca Shaw, DSI’s resident spook and headmistress, to use Jorn as bait.
    Scarlett grunted and sheathed her sword as Jorn came at us. Another RPG exploded nearby, blasting a hole in the street on the opposite side of us. I just shook my head at the failed diversionary tactics and kept my eyes peeled for the real threats.
    Jorn hunkered low and flung a brutal right hook at Scarlett, teeth clenched in his puppy dog jaw. It would have been a classic Mike Tyson KO…had it hit anything besides air.
    Scarlett ducked beneath the blow and pivoted right, digging her left hand into Jorn’s ribs. There was a meaty slap, and he chuffed wind. Scarlett followed that up with a snappy right to the jaw, which spun the big galoot around in a full circle. He managed to stay on his feet, but sometimes being tougher than you are smart is a horrible trade off. Scarlett snapped out a kick and met his spinning face with the full force of her shin. The ephemeral manifestations of her wings gleamed at her back as she turned on the boosters.
    There was a sharp snap of something breaking and Jorn was airborne. Like a lump of cookie dough launched from a cannon, he flew backward and slammed into a nearby wall. The whole building shook, bricks tumbling down over his stunned head. He fell beneath a cloud of gray dust and face-planted onto the sidewalk with a rubbery thwap .
    That’s when all hell broke loose.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a flash of movement low to the ground. I spun that direction to see a manhole cover hurtling through the air, a grinning Venai looming a few yards out. Manly as ever, her muscles rippled beneath the skintight outfit she wore. She said something I couldn’t hear, but the viciousness behind it made it clear she was either cussing me out or practicing her German.
    Instinct took over and I leapt away, but my brain kicked in the moment my feet left the ground. It hadn’t been aimed at me. My gaze followed its path, unable to do anything.
    The