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The demon’s spiked tail lashed out like a whip, cracking into his shield with such force that his magic nearly buckled—and so did he. He held firm, teeth grinding, sweat beading on his temples.
“Get between it and the girls!” Darien barked at Max, who immediately dove forward, sliding on the floor past the demon, narrowly missing another swipe of its deadly tail.
After what just happened at Blackgate, Darien had no clue how to kill this thing. But there was no way of finding out until he’d exhausted all his options, so he grabbed a gun and starting firing, reserving his magic for when—and if—they needed it.
The creature bellowed a roar, ducking its head as bullets struck—struck but didn’t penetrate. They bounced off its body like stones, doing just as little damage.
Darien swore and threw the gun aside. He would need to get closer—as close as he had the demon under the Strangler Fig. Which meant he would need to lower his shield.
He waited until the creature divebombed for him, smashing into the wall of his magic. The shield crackled and sputtered, magic zipping and barrelling like black electricity and thick smoke into the demon’s body. Darien wasn’t sure how he could see it; hellseher magic had always been invisible, even with the Sight.
Darien lowered the wall and ran for it, drawing a knife from his belt.
He leapt up onto the creature’s back, right behind its head. The thing thrashed from side to side, trying to throw him off. He grunted and held on, eyes dark with the Sight but utterly blinded by the fact that he couldn’t see this thing’s aura. It was by sheer luck alone that he didn’t impale himself on the many spikes standing up out of its spine—each of them nearly as long as his forearm—as he wound up and sank the blade into the soft skin at the back of the thing’s neck.
Only, it should’ve sunk in. Instead, he was met with flesh that was as hard and impenetrable as stone, the force of the attack reverberating up his arm and into his shoulder, rattling his brain in his skull.
The creature took advantage of his surprise and threw him off with a mighty roar, slamming him to the ground on his back. Suddenly, it was on top of him, massive claws on either side of his head. The loudest noise Darien had ever heard came out of its lungs as it dove for his throat, rotting gums pulsing—
Darien grabbed it by the open jaws. Teeth ripped into his fingers, and his own blood trickled under the sleeves of his jacket. “Little fucking help here!” he bellowed, arms shaking as he held the creature back.
And then Max was there, cutting through the tendons on the back of the creature’s ankles, where its otherworldly skin was thinnest.
It reared back, bellowing in pain. It struck Max with a lash of its tail, and he and Grim went flying into a bookshelf with shouts and pained growls, wood and paper bursting around them.
Darien rolled, dodging a swipe of claws. He scrabbled to his feet and ran, Bandit right on his heels. The demon kept chasing him, each of its steps shaking the ground. Finally, he was able to snap his magic back into position, shielding him from yet another blow that would’ve been fatal if he’d acted half a second later.
“Where’s Jacky?!” Darien shouted.
Jack’s voice bounced from the library doors behind him. “Here.” He chucked something at Darien, who had to let down his magic long enough to allow the blur of an object to pass through. He caught it, realizing Jack had tossed him a flamethrower. “Light that piece of shit up,” Jack said.
Darien did. Flames barrelled across the floor, setting furniture on fire in its path. The demon bellowed in anger and agony as it retreated to the farthest corner of the library, shutting its eyes against the heat.
The sight of Max stumbling away from the inferno made Darien curse. Max was afraid of fire.
But they had to do this.
“Hold it there!” Darien shouted. He tossed the flamethrower to Jack and said, “Keep burning it.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved the single grenade he had on him—a last-resort weapon very seldom used, even on Hounds. Of the girls, he instructed Max, “Shield them.”
Darien rallied his magic, using up the last of the salts in his bloodstream to reinforce the shield—black and shimmering, the strength of his power doubled by Bandit, who stood at his side—around himself and Jack, who was forming a wall of his own with Twitch’s help, his magic still invisible, just like Max’s.
And with Loren, Dallas, and Sabrine now shielded by Max, Darien pulled the pin out with his teeth and threw.
There was a moment of quiet and stillness. Darien crouched down, bracing himself, arms over his head.
And then the room exploded with a bang and a blast of fire, the bright eruption of heat temporarily blinding him.
The spells on the building kept the ceiling from coming down, but everything else in the library went up in flames and burst into pieces—and so did the demon. Chunks of bone and charred flesh rained down around them and rolled across the floor.
Jack was the first to stand. He stared disbelievingly at what was left of the monster, and then he cracked a merry grin that only Jacky could crack. “Fuck me. That actually worked.”
47
Loren’s heart wouldn’t slow. Bile burned her throat as she looked around at the destruction of the library.
The demon was nothing but chunks of still-burning flesh and charred bone scattered across the floor. The gruesome sight made the bile climb higher up her throat, where it seeped across her tongue, twisting her stomach.
Tonight had been a close call. Darien, Max, and Jack were mostly unharmed, thank the gods. But it had taken all three of them and their Familiars to kill a single monster. The reality of that didn’t sit well with her, and she found herself wanting to puke again.
