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I pretended to consider it, then shook my head. “No, thanks. I think I’ll keep it.”
Mayhew stepped forward, the ground trembling and cement fracturing under his immense weight. “You try my patience, girl.”
Shockingly, I had no comeback.
“I have ways to make you do what I want,” the demon promised. “I will enjoy making you bleed.”
I wiggled my fingers, trying to pry the fused skin free from the metal. The sword was still glowing, but with the demon blood quickly drying it lacked the same intensity it first had.
“You were a big, bad demon ruler in the underworld, weren’t you?”
“I am lord and master of a thousand legions,” Mayhew snarled.
“You think? A thousand years on Earth is like what? Eight bazillion eons in the underworld? Isn’t that how time works there? An hour here is like ten years there or some weird conversion like that.”
“A minute can be an eternity,” he said. “As I may force you to experience.”
“So in a thousand years’ worth of eternities, do you honestly think you’ll still be lord and master?”
Mayhew stopped advancing and blinked his crimson eyes at me. “What?”
“Face it,” I continued, edging closer by half-inch increments. “You’ve been replaced.”
The demon bared his teeth at me.
I wanted to whimper and run, but I squared my shoulders and forced myself to look him in the eye. “When you get home, you’ll be someone’s bitch.”
I had expected him to get mad, to swat at me or growl or tell me I was a useless flesh sack or something. Instead he lowered his head so he could meet my gaze. He didn’t appear defeated, instead he seemed jubilant.
“Then I won’t go home.”
“W-what?”
“I will build a new kingdom. Isn’t your world always waiting for the end of days? A hell on Earth? I can make it happen. Starting here.”
Awesome. I had single-handedly convinced a demon to act out some Biblical Revelation-level horror on the citizens of Manhattan. When my plans backfire, they backfire spectacularly. Desmond seemed to agree because he groaned. I should have listened when he told me to shut up.
“You could have a special place by my side,” Mayhew added. “You would have everything you ever dreamed of and more.”
“Oh.” I looked at the demon, then at the expanse of Manhattan, my beloved home. Might be righteous to be the queen of something bigger than a wolf pack. But at what cost? I didn’t think working at Mayhew’s side would give me an all-access spending account at Bergdorf. I was pretty sure his plan was to level the city.
Besides, my fiancé was a billionaire and I had an unlimited Tribunal credit card when a shopping urge struck. I didn’t need a demon sugar daddy to feel all-powerful.
“No thanks.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Then—having finally said the one thing that threw him off—I attacked.
Demon rib cages are more sturdily built than flimsy human ones, but my sword missed the memo on that. It slid between his ribs like his thick flesh was made of melted butter, and pierced his heart for a second time that night.
I twisted the blade, and a torrent of blood the consistency of molasses poured out from the open wound, coating the sword. The blade, fed anew, almost hummed with energy. This time I was prepared for the heat and light and looked at the demon instead of the blade. “Tell me your name,” I demanded. “Tell me your name and I can end this now.”
He blinked stupidly, gawking at the sword protruding from
his heart. He swatted at me, but the sword held true, and there was nothing I could do to detach myself from it or it from him. The demon seemed to appreciate our predicament and did something I should have seen coming but hadn’t expected.
Big, tattered leather wings unfolded and fluttered in the cold February air. My eyes widened as he took a few exploratory swings, his body lifting a foot or two with each flap. He couldn’t be thinking of doing what I thought he was thinking of doing. His wings cut through the air once, twice, and he went up but this time didn’t come back down.
