Page 28 of Demon Demands

If I thought we’d ever have an altercation like the one we were in that didn’t end in bloodshed… I’d be sorely mistaken.

It was almost like her words had the opposite effect than they should have had. Instead of telling her what she wanted to know, we found ourselves in an all-out brawl.

Kind of.

Male demons charged at us from all angles with swords, knives, horns, and even one eejit with a fork.

Briggs wasted no time jumping into the fray. He didn’t draw his guns either. No. The lunatic swung a huge ax, with one hand, at a sickly yellow demon, splitting the top half of his head away from his lower jaw and neck. Blood squirted in a high arch as the shifter planted his foot on the demon and pulled his ax away.

Vaughn had sunk several icicles into the chests of two demons. I watched in fascination as they slowed to a crawl, the ice weakening them more than the blood loss.

Novak ripped the neck out of a forest green demon who looked like he was covered in moss. Then the vampire scraped at his tongue frantically with his nails.

So, real moss then. Bet that tasted nasty.

My flail cracked the skull of a demon who was heading for Sloane. She stood in the middle of the small battle with her eyes shut, seeking out her prey. I assumed that she was searching for his mental signature or something similar, but it really wasn’t the time to be closing one's eyes.

Her eyes popped open and her head snapped to the right as a panel in the wall opened up. A male with copper colored hair poked his head out before the rest of his body came into view. The panel closed behind him as his eyes scanned the fighting crowd.

He opened his mouth as if to call order to the altercation amongst his men, but when his eyes landed on Sloane, they went wide with disbelief.

Sloane marched across the room, stabbing her way through the fighting males, bodies dropping behind her. The man was Hannibal, and he looked nothing like Jack.

He was thin and scruffy, barely taller than Sloane’s 5’9 stature. He wasn’t much thicker than her either, but he appeared emaciated or like he’d been on drugs for too long.

Hannibal clawed at the panel in the wall, desperately trying to get away from Sloane as she advanced on him. She ignored everything around her, eyes locked on her target, feet steady as she crossed the distance between them. I followed closely behind her, watching her back as her vision became laser focused.

The bodies in the room had been dropping like flies, and she simply stepped on them as she continued her trek. The distance wasn’t that far, but it felt like time had slowed down, as if I was moving through molasses to keep up with her.

With one last glare in Sloane’s direction, Hannibal successfully pried the panel open and disappeared inside. He’d made a huge mistake, though, and it wasn’t only leaving the doorway open. He’d fled, ran. And I was beginning to realize… Sloane, and her demon, loved nothing more than the chase.

He’d been deemed prey and then acted like he was a rabbit. Running in a panicked haze would get him nowhere quick. He had fed her his fear, even if a small dose, and she had his scent, his taste. She wouldn’t stop until she caught her prize. Wouldn’t stop until Jack was safe.

Being a witness to her prey-drive made me also realize that Raguel didn’t stand a chance against her. That was why he needed information on her, why he couldn’t get it himself. He needed to catch the predator in a trap.

Her family, her friends… her mates. We’d all be traps to lure her in. But we could all handle the temporary pain, knowing that she would stop at nothing to keep the people she cared about safe. She was ready to destroy the entire realm to get Jack back. I couldn’t fathom what she’d do for her mates.

I had to tell her everything.

Sloane pulled her wings tightly into her body, giving chase to Hannibal. She darted through the open panel and down a passage that was barely wide enough for one person to fit through.

As I followed behind them, I called an orb of light into my hand, no longer worried about who would see.

From my elbows to my shoulders, the walls scraped at my skin, leaving my long-sleeved shirt bloody and filled with holes. I didn’t care. I just needed to stay with her, help her, protect her if she needed it.

The hidden passage spat us back out in the first room we’d been in. Hannibal sped through the open space, jumping over the bodies, and toward the hallway that led to the stairs. Sloane didn’t slow her pursuit.

Closing the distance, she left just enough between them for him to feel like he was going to get away. Racing up the stairs, two and three at a time, I pushed myself to keep up with them.

When I reached the doorway of the shack, I watched Hannibal shift and try to get away. Hellhounds closed in on him in his lanky hellsteed form as Sloane lurched forward. Wrapping her arm around his neck, she used her strength to slam his horse-like body to the sandy ground.

As I started to form a barrier around them to keep him contained while they fought, I spotted more trouble heading our way.

“The scorpion is coming,” I shouted, hoping that Sloane would hear me through the fog of her murderous rage. “And he’s brought friends.”

Vaughn

Tuesday Late Morning