Loren slid her wallet into her purse with one hand, the other grasping the ice-cream cone that was melting faster than she could lick it. “Face jellies?”She snorted a laugh.
Where he was walking at her side down the Avenue of the Scarlet Star, hair gobbling up the sunlight, Darien gave a wave of his hand, the devil rings on his index and middle fingers flashing a bright silver. “You know what I mean.”
“I can’t be sure,” she teased, “but Ithinkwhat you mean isskincare.”Hoisting up the strap of her bag, she took a generous lick of her raspberry-flavoured treat, the ice-cream inlaid with bits of bubble-gum. “We live in a semi-arid climate, Darien. My face needs hydration. I’m too young to start getting wrinkles.”
“There has to be something you can use that doesn’t cost half as much.”
“Would you stop complaining?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “I can think of far better things for you to do with that mouth.”
Darien blinked. And then he threw his head back and howled with laughter. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.” He was laughing so hard his eyes were watering. He swiped at the corner of one with a knuckle. “You are just too much fun.”
Loren herself was trying not to laugh, though she was doing a horrible job of it. “No one’s ever given you a taste of your own filthy medicine, have they?”
“Not until you came along, Rookie.” His phone buzzed, and he slid it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. “Would you give me a minute, please?”
While he took the call, Loren stepped up to a jewelry kiosk near Ella and Prince. The vendor sold a variety of enchanted rings and anklets, magical symbols etched into each one. Little cardboard labels taped below the displays explained which piece of jewelry was enchanted with what spell. The possibilities were endless, most of them vain.
She was inquiring about a tongue stud that could change a person’s eye color—a stud to replace the one currently hiding her freckles—when screaming barrelled down the avenue.
Loren barely had time to register what was happening before a blur slammed into her and she was thrown headfirst into the jewelry kiosk.
—
The demon was faster than any Darien had hunted before, but he was faster.
He moved like shadow and wind, sprinting for the demon at a speed no mortal eye could track. As he ran, he fired two shots, bullets peeling through the sultry late-afternoon air. People screamed and fell as they scrambled out of his way, faces stricken with terror.
The bullets tore, one after the other, into the back of the creature’s skull. But it didn’t fall.
And as it whirled his way, triangular nostrils flaring, Darien rallied his magic.
As a hellseher, his perception of time was different. He could see things in slow motion, could smell and taste and feel every little thing that was happening in a millisecond, every miniscule detail that flew undetected under the noses of ordinary people.
The dark trickle of blood catching the sunlight as it seeped from the gash in the demon’s temple; Loren gathering her bearings, ice-cream streaming down the front of her sundress; the people in the avenue scuttling for safety; shop doors slamming shut; stray napkins fluttering beneath silverware and werewolf-friendly cutlery on the outdoor food tables; fronds of palm trees scraping down the avenue.
His magic rent the air, and as the demon lunged for him, Darien mentally drove his power up in a slicing motion that onlyhecould see and feel.
The demon’s head broke off its shoulders. Blood sprayed from a severed artery, and it collapsed to the cobbles, the momentum behind its attack causing it to slide several feet before it stilled, two inches from his boots.
Time resumed its usual pace as Darien quieted the roaring power within him.
Loren was floundering about in the mess of wood and jewelry. Darien quickly holstered his pistol and made his way to her side. When he reached her, she was pressing a hand against her temple and staggering to her feet, barely able to stay upright in the destruction that was the jewelry kiosk. Behind her, the vendor cowered against the locked door of Ella and Prince.
“Did it bite you?” Darien’s throat felt tight as he looked her over, his heart slamming in his chest. This was new to him, for he was very good at staying calm.
What was he becoming?
Loren was in so much shock, she barely managed to shake her head in answer.
Afraid she might faint, he made to gather her into his arms, but she blinked and stepped away from his touch, staring down the avenue at the terrified people observing from a distance. Phones were glued to ears, and crying children clutched their mother’s skirts.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” Loren mumbled.
“Loren.” Darien gathered up the paper shopping bags of jellies—theskincarethat she’d refused to let him purchase for her—and followed her as she drifted down the street. Her dress swished against her thighs. “Loren, sweetheart. I think you’re in shock. You should sit down.”
“The demon, Darien.” She turned to face him, though her eyes were distant, and they wouldn’t meet his own. “It shouldn’t have made it onto the avenue. The spells here…they’re even more powerful than those at the academy. Evenyouhad trouble getting us into the Old Hall. And even then, it was only possible because Tanner had generated an outage.”
“What are you saying?”
