If you read this passage, you’ll find the answer to the question listed on The Romance Review sight. http://www.theromancereviews.com/ The next question is for my own contest I’m having. If you go to the tab under Books, the answer is there and you can leave the answer on my blog. Make sure to leave your email so I can send the copy of the book. Good luck! M.L. Guida
Scythe’s Descent into Hell
Scythe glanced at Heather. Strands of her brown hair hung in her face, and he itched to push it away. Her wide brown eyes looked at him as if to say do something. She was his angel-mate. Clenching his jaw tight, no matter what Michael did to him she was worth it. He’d die for her.
A snap echoed through the air. Michael’s menacing voice said, “We’ll see about that, Angel.”
Darkness engulfed Scythe. An icy wind whipped over his naked skin, whirling him around like a piece of paper in a roaring tornado. The noise hurt his ears. Pain gripped him. Human shrieks rang in his ears. Don’t let those be hers.
He couldn’t make out the voices, in too much torment to distinguish male or female. Zeus, knows what happened to her. With sheer determination, he shot out his wings, but an angry gust cracked them like toothpicks. Agony tore threw him as his wings flattened to his back, totally useless. He screamed and fell.
The air turned hot. His wings plastered to his sweltering skin. The wind intensified the heat. Shit, Michael, really? His throat too hoarse to scream anymore, he clenched his teeth. Had he been screaming her name?
He spiraled towards an orange ball. At his rapid descent, it grew brighter. Flames exploded and crackled. Fear gripped him as the blistering wind lashed him like a scalding whip.
His arms and legs trembled. His heart pounded. Sweat drenched him. His hair flung around his face, blinding him. Michael have mercy.
But none came. How could Michael do this to him? If he hurt one hair on Heather’s glorious head, he’d challenge the holy tyrant. Where was that coming from? He had never felt this way towards his boss. Never. He had followed Michael’s every command, every order, every desire without question. But that was then, this was now. The only thing that mattered was getting back to Earth. Heather needed him, but what if she was down here? For Heaven’s Sake, Michael. He couldn’t feel her. Where the hell was she?
He smashed into the boiling lava. His flesh melted off his bones. Agony gripped him. He screamed, but the flames ate his shrieks. Suddenly, the fire dissipated and he was whole again.
“Ah, so you’re here,” an evil voice said.
Panting, Scythe turned. Jagged rocks and pebbles scratched and dug into his skin. Volcanoes erupted and the stench of his own singed flesh hit him. Human screams mixed with demon laughter rang in his ears.
A black haired man stood with his arms folded across his naked chest. Long black hair fell to his waist and his eyes burned red. Sweat glistened off his muscles. He wore tight black jeans and no shoes. “Balthazar.”
“Hello, Scythe. I see we meet again, but this time…” He raised his hands in a wide V over his head. “We’re on my turf. Welcome.”
The rancid smell of decaying, rotting souls permeated the air. Noxious fumes made his eyes water. He wrinkled his nose. His stomach twisted into a knot. He bit his cheek to keep from vomiting. Scythe rolled to his side. “You bastard, where is she?”
“Ah, yes, your angel-mate? Wouldn’t you like to know?” Balthazar put his hands on his hips. “By the way, it’s not polite to insult your host. Boys.”
Growls and snarls emitted from the ground. Black shadows with pointed horns, yellow glowing eyes and long sharp claws emerged. Hovering, the black shapeless images surrounded him. Scythe tensed. Shit, ghost demons. He was fucking powerless without a heaven sword.
“Now,” Balthazar ordered.
With his fists clenched, Scythe struggled to stand, to fight. “Balthazar, I’ll kill you if you hurt her.” The ghost demons hissed and swarmed him, like pissed off wasps protecting their nest. Nails slashed through his flesh. He swung, but his fists went right through them.
“Yeah right.” Balthazar laughed. “Only a demon can touch them. You know that.”
Scythe staggered and fell to the ground. Sharp teeth tore at his muscles, ripping bits out. Agony swelled inside him. Gritting his teeth, he refused to cry out.
Through the chomping and tearing, Balthazar said, “Don’t worry. I doubt Michael will let you die. But let me give you this piece of advice, Blade’s soul will soon be mine.”
“Never,” Scythe spat.
Cruel laughter filled his ears. “Good-bye, Angel. We’ll meet again.”
Bonus Question: M.L. Guida’s The Romance Review Contest
If you can answer this one, you’ll be in the running to win a free copy of Sinful Delight, a short about the Angels of Death. I plan to give away 10 copies of this short novella. If you go to Books under M.L. Guida, you’ll find the answer.
What is the name of the board that both Poison and Ringmaster are searching for?
a) Shadow Board
b) Dark Board
c) Zombie Board
d) Spell Board