Things get creepy sometimes in the neighborhood. Especially when Demons get involved.

"When am I getting my sword?" Grace mumbled as she and Nate crouched at the entrance to an alleyway.

"Again with the sword?" Nate took his long, sharp weapon out and twisted it until the light from a nearby streetlamp flashed off it and revealed ancient runes engraved on its surface. "It took me hundreds of years to earn my sword and become an independent Angel and another millennium to make it into the chain of command. You're not even half a century old, and you already want to leave my side to slaughter Demons on your own." An amused smile stretched across his lips. "Honey, as long as this happens-" He took her reddish right hand and held it up. "-you have no chance of getting your sword."

Grace yanked her hand back. So she got pissed and cursed sometimes. It was a good way to unload. Why did it have to be so wrong? "I know it usually takes a long time. But I obviously need one. We've seen more action this week than all of last year. That must count for something."

Demon attacks had increased dramatically since her rendezvous with the Nexum. All Demon hunter teams in their area were dispatched and Azriel had finally been assigned a new partner. Nate and Grace roamed the streets every night, finding Negri, Nexi and Demons, trying to bring the monsters down before they hurt humans.

For Grace, the constant action came with a whirlwind of emotions. Part of her enjoyed the heat of battle, the adrenaline, the good she knew she was doing by saving humans and the experience that came with it, but the blood and gore surrounding her didn't leave her untouched. She had to remind herself, more often as the action-filled days went by, what and why she killed. Well, assisted-killed.

As though he sensed her inner turmoil, Nate arranged a relaxing evening at the end of their shifts. He took her out to the most diverse restaurants, urging her to try new food and ending each date with a soft kiss.

That did manage to put her at peace. It showed that Nate agreed with her actions, so she wasn't doing anything wrong by Angel standards.

But despite the experience and Nate's approval, Grace seethed with anger. She did her best in the fights, better each day at dodging, slashing, throwing her dagger, but she could never be more than the decoy. Without a sword she stayed the little nuisance who attacked with a pointy dagger, but couldn't kill anything. She only distracted for Nate to kill.

Nate shook his head. "It's not how much you slay. It's what you learn, how you better yourself from it." He sheathed the sword. "I know what you're thinking. I used to feel the same way. But there's a reason we don't both have swords. It's about learning to trust and protect your partner. It's about teamwork and respect. I didn't see the use either, until I actually became a commanding Angel myself. So I'm letting you know early." He patted her hand and turned his attention back to the street.

Okay, he had a point. She should stop focusing on killing and try to grow as an Angel. Maybe not having a sword was better for now. It taught her how to handle herself in tight spots. At the thought, the rash on her hand disappeared. A vise seemed to loosen inside her and Grace smiled. She was on the right track. Right. Think positive. Deep breaths. Zen was the way to go.

"Hey, Nate-I mean, Nathaniel." Why was it so hard to call him by his full name?

He smiled in encouragement, nodding for her to go on. She flushed and couldn't help smiling back. He was patient and understanding with her. He hadn't gotten angry or preachy since their encounter with the Nexum. He made observations, but she'd begun seeing them as constructive advice as opposed to criticism. And she felt better for it, lighter. If she tried hard enough, she could do it. Trust Nate and grow. Get her sword faster. Okay, she had to practice patience more.

She glanced around for possible humans who could overhear, but the street was deserted. Only a few cars passed by. "Why is there so much Demonic activity all of a sudden?"

"I'm not sure. There have been outbursts of malevolence in the world before. Just think of all the wars." Nate rubbed his chin. "I guess humanity is bubbling with the need for violence. That always draws the Enemy's pawns out."

That made sense. Which was not good. "Humanity can't afford another war, not with their technical advances. They would destroy the planet."

Nate glanced sideways at her. "I think we can keep one country from setting off a nuclear hell, don't you think?"

Grace blinked. "One country? Are you serious? Where have you been living for the past ten years?"

Nate raised his eyebrows. "In the Garden, just like you and every other Angel."

Grace rolled her eyes. Mr. Literal. "Haven't you been watching the news?"

"News? You mean the human news? No. Why would I do that? Why would any Angel do that? We get briefed about what matters."

"Apparently not." Grace folded her arms over her chest. "You've missed out on all the new countries who can set off a nuclear war. Not to mention all the new weapons and war machines. Stealth jets, fast tanks, chemical weapons, all that stuff." She loved watching every show with extreme warfare involved.

Nate cocked his head. "Your knowledge of humans could come in handy. You're completely right. We can't let Demons persuade humans to start a new war."

Grace wondered if her head would explode, seeing how big it threatened to get. "We should let the other Angels know about this potential threat. If you didn't know, I doubt many others do."

"True, seeing that all commanding Angels get briefed at once. I'll take care of that."

Cold wind swept the alley, catching some empty wrappers and lifting them through the air and out of sight. Grace lifted the collar of her jacket. The chill got worse. She shuddered and rubbed her arms. Next to her, Nate seemed unaffected as he watched the end of the alley intently.

The air suddenly felt heavy, pressing on her lungs. Her muscles ached as an unseen force surrounded her. A vacuum seemed to drain all energy out of her. She glanced from left to right then expanded her senses to get a better feel. No signs of Demons or Negri. Still, she was sure they were no longer alone, and whatever was out there was more sinister than anything she'd ever encountered.

Grace glared at the sky - the city lights and pollution made it look gray and pinkish at the same time, and even if no clouds floated above, the stars were invisible. It wasn't unusual, only this time, something else was there. A thin layer, like a cellophane cover, that stole the color and warmth of the early autumn night.

She squinted. "Can you feel that?"

Nate frowned. "Feel what?"

"Or see it, or something. This thing around us." Her heart thumped a syncopated rhythm. That thing, whatever it was, almost smothered her. Another burst of wind sent her hair flying around her face. The pressure on her lungs suddenly eased.

"Grace, what are you talking about? There's nothing around us." Nate cupped her face and turned her toward him. A small worry crease striped his forehead.

Her heartbeat slowly steadied as she looked into his eyes, basking in their familiarity. Once her breathing became normal again, she glanced up. The layer thing had disappeared and the colors were back. She frowned. Where had it gone? Her energy flowed back as if nothing had happened. She turned to Nate. He still watched her as though expecting her to seize. Had she just imagined all that?

"I think I'm just nervous," she conceded.

"You don't have to be nervous, honey. Everything's fine." He gave her a one-armed hug before returning to surveying the end of the alley. Moments later, he snatched the gun from his belt, rose to his feet, and pointed it toward the dark end. "Get ready. Here they come."

Grace stood and pulled out her lightpistol. The creeping cold indicating the presence of Negri came seconds later. Swarms of them whipped across the alley, forming a wall of black shadows, screeching and wheezing.

"What the-?" Nate stepped forward and shot into the midst of the Negri. They hissed and broke ranks. Three Demons came into view, sharp teeth visible in their grins.

Ah, crap! Grace aimed and shot at the biggest group of Negri. Nate charged forward, through the shadows, sword out and ready to slice. She knew what she had to do. Still watching Nate from the corner of her eye, she spun on the spot, firing at as many Demonic shadows as possible, creating a ring of light.

Behind her, a Demon laughed over the sound of clashing swords. Her muscles tensed, and her shoulder blades itched. Come on, come on. But her wings weren't ready to come out yet. She continued to shoot at the Negri, keeping them away from Nate and the Demons he battled. Her rapid pulse made her temples throb and her hands shake. Something wasn't right.

A wild screech erupted behind her.

"Grace, look out!"

She turned just as all three Demons sprouted their bat-like wings. Spindly bones barely seemed able to sustain the leathery surface of their new limbs. Two of the Demons sprinted toward Nate, swords high and ready to strike. Nate blocked one and dodged the other. The third Demon growled, dodged around the fight and charged at Grace.

Grace shot the ground next to her feet, dispersing the Negri around her, then fired continuously at the incoming Demon. He growled, but even though he threw his arm out in front of his eyes to block the light projectiles, didn't slow down. Marvelous. She threw the useless pistol at him. He slapped it away in midair and grinned, revealing rows of pointy teeth. Grace yanked her dagger out and bent her knees, waiting. When the Demon came within reach, she sprang forward, dagger extended. The Demon dodged. The tip only scraped his ribs instead of sinking into his stomach.

Like a striking snake, Grace pulled her arm back and stabbed again. This time, the blade sunk into his thigh. The Demon roared in pain, but didn't stop his advance. He wrapped one arm around her waist and took off into the night sky, his leathery wings flapping madly.

Wind blew Grace's hair in all directions as they soared higher and higher. The city lights flickered underneath.

Grace yanked the knife out of the Demon's thigh and plunged it in its stomach. The itch between her shoulder blades turned into an all-consuming burn. She shut her eyes, and concentrated on her wings, urging them to come out. The Demon released her waist. She dropped through the air at incredible speed, the frigid air prickling her skin, and landed on a hard surface - a rooftop. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs and all her bones rattled.

Above her, the Demon let out a harsh laugh. "Let's see how you fare against a real Demon, little Angel." He threw the dagger at her.

Grace rolled out of the way, but the blade still nipped her shoulder. Her wings remained annoyingly tucked in. She got to her knees and grabbed her fallen dagger, trying to shake away the pain in her muscles.

The Demon landed in front of her. The concrete slab cracked under his boots. "I'm a nice guy." He sneered. "I'll give you ten seconds to draw your wings out."

Grace scowled. She grabbed the dagger by its tip and threw it. The Demon's eyes widened for the moment it took the blade to sink into his throat. He gurgled and black blood spilled from his mouth, snaking down his neck. Grace strode to him and yanked the blade out.

"Where's the real Demon?" She plunged the dagger into the Demon's chest where his heart was supposed to be.

He made a grab for her, but she ducked under his outstretched arms, taking the dagger with her, and slit his throat. She sidestepped him and kicked him in the back. He plummeted toward the edge of the roof. As he went over, one wing flapped helplessly in the night air before disappearing out of sight.

Grace shook the dagger, trying to get some blood off of it. Nate would find the Demon at the foot of the building and hopefully cut his head off before he healed. Not having a sword was getting more annoying by the minute. Not to mention that her stupid wings had suddenly decided she wasn't in enough trouble to warrant their appearance.

"They'd do a much better job at killing Angels if they didn't brag and taunt half the time." She mumbled as she slid the dagger back into its sheath.

"True, but it would make our jobs a lot less fun."

Grace spun around so fast, she almost tripped over her own feet. Blackwing sat on an air-conditioning unit, twirling a screwdriver between his fingers.