Demon Dawn (The Resurrection Chronicles #7) - M.J. Haag ,

Demon Dawn

Survival requires sacrifice.

The world irrevocably changed after the hellhounds and fey appeared. Most people didn’t survive that first night. Dad had said we were lucky we did. I’m not so sure about that anymore.

With her father murdered before her eyes and her faith in the remaining humans shaken, Brenna reluctantly accepts sanctuary in Tolerance, a safe zone managed by the fey. The wall keeps the infected out. But it also keeps the humans in…with the very creatures that caused the world to break.

Big, grey, and ruthlessly deadly, the fey strike fear in the hearts of men and women alike. But Brenna finds one more intimidating than all the rest. Scarred and angry, Thallirin watches Brenna with an intensity that makes her relive the events that followed her father’s murder. She knows what Thallirin wants, and she’s never going to be used like that again.

Tormented by her past, Brenna sees no possible future for herself other than eventual infection or starvation. There is hope, though. Her community is abuzz with a newly discovered way to protect women against the disease that’s turning people into zombies. However, it doesn’t come from a needle.

It comes from sleeping with one of the dark fey.

What has happened before…

More than two months ago, earthquakes unleashed hellhounds on an unsuspecting mankind. The bite of a hound changed humans, turning people into flesh-craving infected.

The hellhounds weren’t the only things to emerge from the earthen caverns. Demon men with grey skin and reptilian eyes had been trapped underground for thousands of years. They, alone, possessed the ability to kill the hellhounds and help bring a stop to the plague. They had only asked for one thing in return: a chance to meet women who might be willing to love them as they are.

Chapter One

Restless, I walked along the wall and searched the barren trees for any sign of movement. Dawn’s early light was barely creeping over the horizon. Usually at this time of day, infected roamed among the trees, but everything remained still just like it had yesterday and the day before that. Breach day. The day the infected had fooled me and gotten inside Tolerance.

Bitter regret filled me quickly, followed by frustration. Although I’d been the one the infected had fooled, I didn’t blame myself. I put the blame where it was due. On the damn infected. They were getting smarter, and we’d all been unprepared for that. It didn’t make me less angry about what had happened, though. The infected had taken so much from us already. Our sense of safety. Our ability to go anywhere. My eyes once again swept over the wall that protected as much as it imprisoned. This was the world we were living in now. A dangerous, scary place filled with things that wanted to kill humans.

A sudden burst of panic hit me. The feeling wormed its way into my chest and tightened so hard and fast that I could barely breathe. I paused on the grille of an upturned SUV and took one slow, steady breath while counting to eight in my head. Then I did the same thing on the exhale, repeating the process until the panic eased.

I continued along the wall again, pacing my section as if nothing had happened. I tried not to think of the reason for my attacks. Ever. It was easier to focus on the task at hand: watching the trees for infected. I found it ironic that trying to spot an infected was soothing.

In an odd way, it made sense though. The infected I could kill. My past…well, there was no killing memories.

I took another calming breath. Since the quakes, watching for infected was the only way to survive. I could barely remember my life before the world went to hell a few months ago. I didn’t really want to. It would just make my current life more hellish.

Focusing on the trees, I paused.

“Where are they?” I said softly to myself.

“Brenna,” a voice called from behind me. “Do you need more arrows?”

I glanced at the fey standing below me. He was big and had to be close to seven feet tall. While I was appropriately bundled against the cold, he only wore a pair of jogging pants and a t-shirt that stretched tightly over his broad shoulders and expansive chest. Not all of the fey liked wearing shirts. I appreciated that this one was covered.

His lizard-like eyes swept over my face, and I briefly wondered if he was seeing our differences in my blunt