It has been eighty-three years since the walls between Earth and Infernus fell, and now our world stands upon the razor’s edge of extinction. Demon platoons are marching upon us. My home, one of humanity’s last bastions of existence, is under siege.
My name is Alana Devereaux. I am the resident demon detector of Cantati Forces and Platoon Commander. My job is to hunt down the vermin unleashed upon my world, and I love it. I live for the day I can kick every last demon’s ass out of this world. Except as enemy forces reign down terror upon us, the Densare Council sentences me to a fate worse than death.
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Clank, clank, clank.
My hand rapped against metal, and the invisible chains around me tightened. The door swung inward. Cade stood there, in all his six-foot-four glory, the white army-issue T-shirt stretched across a mountain of muscles. An inky black tribal tattoo started at his left elbow and disappeared under the strained confines of his shirt. His face had been carved from stone, all sharp angles and planes, his head shaved clean of hair save for the stubble of the goatee lining his angular jaw. His nose was no longer straight from a couple of breaks and sat slightly crooked on his otherwise handsome face. His eyes were liquid pools of darkness as they assessed me.
“Come in, Alana.” He said my name like a benediction. It’s not like men had a ton of opportunities for sex, not with the limited numbers of available females. Would he want to start right away or would he give me time? Not that it mattered—the Council had just presented me to Cade like an offering to a god.