Page 17 of Eat, Slay, Love

The blond laughs and moves. One second he’s in front of me, the next he’s behind me, fingers fisting in the back of my catsuit, yanking me off balance. He picks me up and slams me onto the pavement. My teeth rattle, my magic absorbing some but not most of the pain radiating down the front of my body, and I’m immediately reminded of another reason I haven’t gone hunting in ten years. Because this part fucking sucks. And this is one strong fucking demon.

I roll before he can follow up, flinging a fistful of ash toward his face. It ignites midair. Silver fire blooms across his features.

He snarls—real pain this time—and staggers back, smoke curling from his skin.

“Yes!” I breathe, scrambling to my feet. “That’s right—ash, asshole. Ash-hole.”

“Mayari, enough!” Jonah growls. “Circle him. Don’t let him flank you.”

I pivot, dragging a fresh arc of salt with my free hand, trying to split the space, trying to limit his movement. My magic hums, surging now that I have a clear target. Just bright, clean certainty.

He lunges through it anyway. His hand catches my throat and lifts me clean off the ground. Goddamnit.

My dagger clatters to the ground. Air vanishes from my lungs.

“Belvedere will enjoy you,” he murmurs conversationally. “He prefers spirited ones.”

Cold punches through me harder than the lack of oxygen. “Wha—” I rasp.

“He shall meet me here on Halloween night,” the demon continues, tightening his grip. “This charming little feeding ground of yours has drawn his interest. So many open hearts.” His smile sharpens. “We’ll feast.”

Behind him, Jonah has gone very, very still.

The demon squeezes.

Black begins to creep into the edges of my vision.

Think.

I force my hands up between us, palms flat against his chest. My magic blasts in a concussive burst of pressure and energy. It slams into him like a wave, forcing him back a step. Just enough.

I drop, gasping, and dive for my dagger.

He kicks it away. He kicks me.

Pain detonates along my ribs as his foot connects with my side. Something cracks, and the sound is loud and intimate and devastating. I think my rib has just punctured my lung. Fuck, I hate this shit!

I roll again, clutching my side, and fling a desperate handful of salt behind me. The circle answers, flaring bright, reinforcing its boundary as the blond attempts to lunge through it. He hits the invisible wall with a snarl, and the impact ripples outward in shimmering distortion.

“Mayari!” Jonah is pounding the barrier now. “Use a tether! Anchor him!”

Right.

Tether.

With shaking fingers, I smear ash and blood together against the pavement, carving a Baybayin symbol of binding into the ground within the circle. The air thickens further, pressure building inside the circle until my ears pop.

The demon’s movements grow slow, as if the air itself has turned viscous around him.

He pushes through it anyway, and then I am well and truly fucked.

The demon bends and rakes his claws across my abdomen, slicing several inches deep, down through leather and skin and flesh in one slow, brutal sweep. Fierce, white-hot pain floods outward. My breath leaves me in a sharp, involuntary cry.

My head hits the ground.

The demon stands over me now, irritation replacing amusement. “You should’ve stayed over there and looked pretty,” he snarls.

I don’t have a comeback lined up, because at this point, I wholeheartedly agree.