Page 73 of Peacemaker

I squeezed his pulsing horn, and it was squishy and swollen and awful to touch, like a bundle of raw nerves that screamed and screamed and screamed, and I sent silver light and cool power into that bundle, and I began to repair it. To rebuild it.

To rebuild him.

I would not let him wallow in his guilt. He’d done what he’d been forced to do. As terrible as that was.

It had changed him, of course it had. And he would stay changed. But I would not allow him to believe he deserved to suffer for it. We would not allow it.

The group…we loved him.

And he did not have to suffer alone.

I didn’t cry as I helped repair what the Byrdcage had shattered. I wanted to, and I would, but not then. Not there.

He stirred, and by the time he opened his eyes, his horn was whole and the stains were gone. It was not the off-white, stained color of his other horn—it was pure silver.

He didn’t move, just stared up at me, expressionless.

“You will never do that again,” I told him. I needed to say so much more, but there was no time.

Then the wall that was Rhys cracked, and he shifted as he fell to the ground, gasping for breath and holding his ribs.

Rhys was weak, Angus was not himself, Amias was injured, and Clayton and Shane had only guns with which to fight the remaining demons.

But there was nothing wrong with Leo or me, and after what had just happened with Angus I was so full of energy I was ready to burst. Luckily for me, there was a perfect way to use up all that energy.

I threw myself into killing demons, and it was glorious.

Leo was right there with me, and the others stood out of the way of Leo’s power while we took care of business.

Seamus was already injured, and not only from Amias’s attack. My two hunters had emptied their guns into the demon’s brain. And together, Leo and I weakened him further as we sliced him up like deli meat.

The lesser demons who’d remained simply disappeared, leaving Seamus to fight alone.

The demons had secrets. They knew how to slide through invisible doorways to rush back to their world or paralyze a human while they fed through sex, rape, violence. They were created from fire and magic.

But they weren’t invincible, and I was beginning to think that a demon’s reputation was more powerful than the actual demon.

Oh, they were powerful. They were lethal, and they were scary. But so were we.

Apparently, their biggest strength was their ability to turn tail and disappear when the fight got too rough for them.

I was flying high, full of energy, relief that Angus would live, and contempt for the demons. I had confidence, Silverlight, and Leo’s insanely powerful fists.

So I made a mistake.

I underestimated the demons.

I underestimated Seamus.

He inhaled, his chest swelling, and he sucked the air out of my lungs. Out of Willow-Wisp. And he came straight for me.

I was waiting with Silverlight when he reached me, but he held Blacklight in front of him and for one brief second, Silverlight’s powerful arc was bent and deflected as it hit the demon’s sword.

And a second was absolutely all he needed.

He took advantage of the opening, shot his hand through, and grabbed me around the throat. And it was not all hot and sexy the way it was when Shane did it.

Not even a little bit.

I opened my mouth to scream with the shocking agony of my throat catching fire and he dragged me to him, slammed his mouth over mine, and began to suck the life from me.

A brief second was all it took for everything to change.

And the burning of my throat was the least of my agony.

The demon had me, and Leo couldn’t attack the demon without hurting me. I felt myself dim and waver as Seamus began to drag me from my world and into his.

I would die there, in hell. If he managed to take me with him, I would not escape.

So I struggled. I fought the blackness of his power and the hugeness of my despair. I gave everything I had left to escaping, defeating, destroying the demon.

But I didn’t save my own life.

I didn’t kill Seamus Flynn.

Blacklight did.

Miriam did.