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“It’s Mason’s,” she said, the words catching in her throat. She flanked the other woman and helped bring her into the room while an older dude with gray hair and a stand in one hand slammed the door closed and locked it. As if a lock would keep out any of the demons.
They settled the female, whose name was Diana, on the couch. A wide-eyed female with trembling hands skirted around Logan to tend to the other woman.
“Draven’s here,” Eva said. “How? This entire city is warded against demon violence, and this building is warded against all demons.”
“Draven broke into our archives and found a way past all that.”
“You sure one of your demon friends didn’t just give it to him?” said one of the dudes standing nearby, a blade in his hand and pointed at Logan.
“Don’t be a jackass, Sam,” Eva snapped before turning back to Logan. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s already healing,” he said, a split second before a million pinpricks tore through his right side.
Oh, shit.
He swayed as Cujo’s pain became his.
“Logan?” Eva grabbed his arm. “Logan! What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
But he couldn’t. Cujo had fought a thousand battles with thousands of demons, and he’d taken some wounds that had required help from Logan’s aunt Cara. But none of them had felt like this.
“It’s Cujo,” he rasped. Then he shoved everyone out of the way to create a space large enough for a Clydesdale. “Get back. Get way back!”
Cujo.
He sent out the mental call. Pain went through him in a shockwave.
Cujo!
An inky pile of blood, fur, and bones materialized in front of him, taking up almost the entire room and crushing equipment beneath his giant body. Cujo whimpered, huddled on the floor, his crimson eyes glazed with shock and pain.
Logan rushed to the beast’s side, his brain barely comprehending the magnitude of Cujo’s injuries. Hellhounds were some of the hardest demons to kill, even for other demons. They were the terrors of the underworld.
This can’t be happening.
“I have to go,” he told Eva, clinging to Cujo’s ruff like a lifeline. In a way, it was. If Logan was injured, he drew energy from Cujo. If Cujo was injured, he drew from Logan. An injury this bad…it could kill them both if he didn’t get Cujo to Aunt Cara. “I’ll come back for you when I can. Is there somewhere secure you can go?”
She took his hand. “I’m going with you.”
“No!” one of the guys yelled. “Are you insane?”
Her gaze didn’t waver. “I want to be with you.”
I want to be with you. Not,I want togowith you.Or,I’ll be safer with you.
His heart swelled even as it flooded with pain for Cujo. He ignored the calls from Eva’s colleagues to get away from “the demons” and tightened his grip on Cujo’s fur.
“I just hope he has enough juice in him to phase to Ares’ place.” He placed Eva’s hand next to his so she could grip a handful of fur. “Come on, buddy. Take us to Cara.”
Cujo shuddered.
“Come on, Cujo.Cujo!”
Another shudder and blood streamed from his mouth, flowing down his jaws to puddle on the floor.
Nonononoooo! Panic tore at the edges of Logan’s control. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and recalling his training with Ares, his mother’s lessons to rein in his anxiety, and Limos’s advice years ago regarding handling their bonded companions.
“Your fear will be his. Your anger will be his. Your stress will be his. And your strength will be his too. Your confidence. Practice control. Our beasts are hard enough to handle without our emotions working them up.”
