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Closing my eyes, I let the scent wash over me, faint but there. I also heard a low growl, deep and barely audible.
I spun around, eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the animalistic sound. “Where are you, you piece of shit?”
I shoved Sunday behind me into Alek, only a little surprised when he repeated the move and bodily pushed her behind him.
Sunday grumbled, and I knew she’d probably try to chew us out later, but for the moment, she was staying quiet. I only hoped she’d let us do our jobs as her protectors.
“Do you see anything?” I asked.
“No,” Alek grunted, sounding as frustrated and on edge as I felt.
“Blood,” Sunday whispered. “Can’t you smell the blood? Copper and salt.”
I couldn’t. “Fuck, Sunshine, did Thorne partially turn you or something?”
“No?”
The hesitation in her answer, as if she wasn’t quite sure, sent unease stabbing straight through me.
“Stay with her,” Alek ordered, stalking ahead.
For just a second, I could easily imagine him with a battle-ax wearing leather armor and furs while releasing a savage war cry. He moved a little ways down the block, and it was all I could do to keep Sunday from following.
She ducked under my arm, intent on going after him. I snagged a finger through one of her belt loops, tugging her back with no little force, but she refused to stay where I wanted her. Shielded. Safe. Protected.
“Not so fast, Sunshine. You heard the Viking. You’re with me.”
“But he might need help.”
“He single-handedly killed a demon not even a week ago. He’ll be fine.”
“It wasn’t single-handed,” she muttered.
Alek stopped near a pile of black garbage bags, his brows pulling together as he stared down at something. Then his face paled, expression stricken as he looked back at us. On instinct, I stepped in front of Sunday.
The odor of blood and brimstone filled the atmosphere, coating my tongue as though I’d tasted it.
“Sunday!” Alek shouted, rushing toward us, fear and rage warring for control of his face.
She cried out, and I wasn’t fast enough to do anything as the transient from earlier grabbed Sunday by the hair and pulled her down. He stared straight at me as he did it, his eyes glowing a pale red as the pupils narrowed and stretched into goat-like slits. His smile spread far wider than anything remotely human as it revealed row after row of yellow fangs.
“Sonofabitch,” I swore, furious at myself for not realizing it had been a demon in disguise. Everything in me screamed to rush forward and rip her from his grasp, but I already knew even the hint of such a move from me, and he’d tear her throat out before I got to him.
He dropped his glamour entirely then. His human facade shimmered into something skeletal and black. He was neither beast nor man, but something uniquely in between, with long fur-tipped ears and deadly sharp claws.
“Get off me, you asshole.” Sunday kicked and squirmed, but the demon had a tight fist in her hair, limiting her mobility. “God, you stink. Ever heard of a breath mint?”
“You smell like sweet cream and sex. Maybe I’ll keep you instead of delivering you to my master.” The demon leaned in and licked a trail up Sunday’s throat with a slimy forked tongue.
“I doubt you could even get it up.”
His clawed hand ran over her lower belly, then up until he cupped one of her breasts. Rage exploded through me, and I searched the surroundings for something I could use as a weapon. But Sunday was faster. She drew her elbow back, aiming it straight for his demon dick.
Apparently one truth was universal—if it had balls, it hurt like a motherfucker when they were struck. The demon let out an unearthly wail as he released his hold on her, curling in on himself.
Sunday spun, grasping the demon by both ears and tugging his head farther down as she brought her knee up, slamming it into his pig-like nose. The crunch was satisfying even from my vantage point. Black blood poured from the bastard’s face, and he howled, lashing out with razor-sharp claws.
Sunday screamed as three deep wounds opened on her left forearm, blood welling instantly.
