The dark-skinned demon scented the air, his beetle-like eyes flashing hungrily at whatever he detected. “It is her.”
“What do you want?” I growled, pressing my palms into the ground and pushing myself to my knees. Pain from the gaping wound in my gut made my eyes water, but I knew I had to get up.
“It is not whatwewant, lovely,” said the one in the fighting leathers. “It is what the Dark King wants. And that, dear girl, is you.”
My bowels turned to liquid at those words. There was only one Dark King I’d ever heard of — Semphrys, lord of the Otherworld, who fed on the souls of the dead.
“And what does he want with me?” I asked, unable to prevent my voice from shaking. I just needed to keep them talking —keep them distracted — until I could summon the strength to move.
“I do not question my lord and master,” the dark-skinned demon hissed. “I merely exist to do his bidding.”
I swallowed, groping for my witchwood blade. But before I could wrap my hand around the hilt, a third demon landed in front of me.
I only had a moment to glimpse chin-length hair the color of tarnished copper before those enormous wings shot out — blocking the others from view.
“I don’t recall you being granted parole, Jameson,” came a low, smooth voice.
“Leave us,Morkahlf,” sneered the demon with the long blond hair. “We have business here.”
“I am here on orders from the Dark Prince, which leads me to wonder what business you could possibly have here.”
“Semphrys wants the witch,” snarled the one called Jameson.
“Mmm. Yes,” mused the newcomer the blond had referred to asMorkahlf. It didn’t sound like a name — more like an unflattering epithet, though I’d never heard it before. “A task which he entrusted to his son — not beasts such as yourselves.”
As odd as their interaction was, I was only half following their argument. In the uproar over theMorkahlf’s appearance, I’d managed to reach my blade. The metal hummed beneath my fingers, and I felt that tingle of familiar magic.
My head swam as I tried to stand, but I threw all my power into my legs and pushed myself off the ground. My blade made a clumsy arc through the air as I aimed for the narrow span of flesh between theMorkahlf’swings.
He pivoted faster than I would have thought possible — even for a demon. His eyes narrowed in fury as his hand shot out to capture my wrist, but they weren’t the eyes of a demon. They were a striking hazel marbled with green and gold, and his face . . . I’d never seen a face like his.
It was pale and angular and severely beautiful in a way that Kaden’s was not. There was no amusement in his gaze — no glimmer of a secret joke. He was all hard lines and brutal efficiency as he held my wrist in that iron grip.
Behind him, the one called Jameson advanced.
A slice of agony shot through my shoulder, though it wasn’t from theMorkahlf’sgrip. The pain was so sharp and intense that I cried out in pain.
TheMorkahlf’seyes narrowed, studying me.
Jameson didn’t drop his gaze, and I had a feeling that he was responsible for my pain. A sneer twisted his lips, andanother burst of pain followed, like a thousand invisible daggers slicing through my skin.
With each invisible cut, I felt the life drain out of me a little more. I screamed, and through my haze of pain, I saw understanding sharpen the other male’s gaze.
“Leave her, blood demon,” theMorkahlfsnarled.
I blinked through a reddish haze that had gathered before me — blood.My bloodturned to vapor. It hovered in the air around me, tiny droplets suspended by magic.
As I watched, the one called Jameson inhaled deeply. His black eyes rolled back as he breathed in the blood vapor, and there was no mistaking his look of pure ecstasy.
I could feel the power draining out of me as Jameson consumed my blood. I heard theMorkahlfgrowling at him, but I was already fading.
Blackness pressed in as I fought to stay conscious, wondering why they were arguing.
My blade clattered to the floor, but I didn’t have the strength to reach for it.
Then theMorkahlfsprang back, knocking me out of the way. I was too far gone to break my own fall, and my chin hit the shattered concrete. Swirls of darkness pressed in all around me, and I groped uselessly for my knife.
I was vaguely aware of a struggle taking place, but my hazy mind couldn’t make sense of it. An oppressive heaviness settled over my body — a force that was meant to be soothing but somehow felt all wrong.
