Russel considered the rows of shiny, terrifying torture instruments in his case as though deciding what to start with. “Not once, in the four years since I underwent the ritual—”
“—with the amulet,” I gasped.
“—has my demon gained control of me for even a moment.”
Crimson blazed across Daniel’s eyes, transforming them into glowing lava.
Daniel lurched back, hands jumping to his face as he shouted in shock. Sucking in a desperate breath of air, I jammed my hand into my belt pouch.
Daniel staggered, fingers digging into his smooth cheeks. “No! I’m in command, you bastard! Stop—”
His eyes blazed brighter, and his furious, desperate expression morphed into jaw-clenching determination, teeth bared in a snarl. His gaze snapped to me. I yanked the amulet out of its pouch and lunged up, arm stretching toward the demon mage.
A hand closed around my forearm and powerful fingers constricted with so much force that blinding pain shot up my arm. I screamed.
Russel’s other hand flashed. Crimson blazed over his skin. Daniel—or his demon—thrust out both arms, but power had barely begun to flare over his fingers when Russel’s spell unleashed.
A boom of power. Blinding red light.
Daniel flew twenty feet and smashed into the wall. He slid down it to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the polyester padding.
Russel dug his fingers into my arm. The demonic amulet swung like a pendulum, its chain still clutched in my hand.
His eyes narrowed as he studied it. “And what might this be?”
My jaw clenched. Blinking away tears of pain, I flicked a glance at Aaron and Kai, warning them to hold still. They didn’t react, their faces white and limbs rigid.
“An arcane artifact, Piotr?” Russel inquired. “Or an infernus?”
“I’m not certain.”
“Hmm.” Russel extended his hand, palm turned up as though to scoop the pendant out of the air.
I dropped the chain.
It’s an irresistible reflex: when you’re about to take hold of something and it falls, you catch it. Simple. Instinctive.
Russel caught the falling medallion with his enhanced reflexes, his fingers closing tightly around it. He straightened, the chain hanging off his fist, and frowned at me.
I stared back, terrified out of my mind while also hoping desperately.
Russel opened his mouth—and his eyes flashed to red.
He reeled back, amulet crushed in his fist. Demonic power exploded across his limbs and streaked over him in crawling veins. His mouth gaped, face contorting. Scarlet lines raced up his face to his temples, forming phantom horns.
I lurched off the table, falling awkwardly to the floor as I put the flimsy barrier between me and the demon mage. Russel convulsed, then dropped to his knees. Quaking. Heaving. Magic rippled off him, condensing—forming into wings that rose off his back and a thick tail with fur that ran down its length.
He arched backward, chest thrown out, head hanging back as a horrific scream tore through his throat.
A second voice joined his in a deep roar of primal rage.
The glowing power covering Russel’s entire body shimmered like heatwaves, then bulged outward. A different face tore away from the human’s—a terrible face with bared fangs, formed of the same semi-transparent power as the horns and wings.
Shoulders appeared, doubled over Russel’s. The demon writhed like a nightmare version of a butterfly wriggling from its cocoon, all while Russel screamed as though he were being ripped apart.
Blood splattered the floor.
Where veins of power marked his skin, Russel’s flesh split open. Blood ran and he shuddered violently. The demon’s phantom face flashed from triumphant rage to fear, and it wrenched from its host in a sudden panic.
Russel pitched over backward, limbs jerking. The phantom demon convulsed with him, its wings slapping the floor with echoing thumps. It fought more frantically to tear away from its host, but the harder it tried, the more blood splashed across the floor.
With a gurgling cry, Russel arched his whole body. The demon howled—a sound of fury and despair—then Russel slumped limply. The raging glow of the demon’s phantom eyes dimmed, and its radiant power softened, losing its shape. The scarlet light faded, leaving only the human.
The human, lying in a pool of blood. Not moving. Not breathing. His slack fingers had uncurled, and the Vh’alyir Amulet glinted on his palm.
Crouched beside the table, all I could do was stare. Aaron and Kai stood frozen with horror, and even Chay, Piotr, and Anand had been shocked into disbelieving stillness.
A red glow blazed through the room.
As one, we all spun around. Daniel was back on his feet—or his demon was. Despite the blood drenching his torso, power crawled over him, phantom spines jutting from his shoulders and horns rising from his head.
His arms were outstretched, heels of his hands pressed together, fingers curled. Power built in the spherical gap between his palms, rings of lines and runes spiraling outward. The demon bared his human teeth and closed his hands on the orb of power.
It snuffed out—and magic burst out of the floor beneath Chay, Piotr, and Anand. Phantom blades shaped like monstrous fangs shot upward, spearing the three men.
More blood spilled across the black floor. The crimson spears dissolved, and their victims crumpled.
Swaying unsteadily, Daniel’s demon lowered his arms, the magic dissolving from his limbs. He slumped backward against the wall and slid down it, his breaths gurgling in his damaged lungs.
I shoved off the table and ran toward him. Three long steps away, I slowed cautiously. Faintly glowing eyes watched me approach, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Demon?” I whispered.
“Havh’tan et Vh’ihrēr.”
“Wh-what?”
“My name,” he rasped wetly, his accent thicker than Eterran’s. “It is Havh’tan.”
“Have-uh-tan,” I tried, sinking into a crouch but keeping several feet of buffer space between us. “Can you heal those wounds?”
“No.”
The damage Russel had inflicted … If Daniel’s body had been purely human, he’d already be dead. My throat tightened painfully.
“I thought the Vh’alyir Amulet could save you.” I tried to swallow. “I thought … but it killed him.”
Havh’tan’s gaze turned to Russel’s body. “He could have stopped.”
“Who could’ve stopped what?”
“The Ash’amadē demon. He did not stop when the hh’ainun body began to break. He wanted to be free. He took the battle. Defeat is death.” His eyes slid out of focus, then back in again, returning to my face. “You are enemy to the one who did this?”
“Yes.”
“You will kill him?”
I hesitated. Demons didn’t lie, Eterran had told me, and I didn’t want to lie to this demon when I wasn’t sure of the answer.
“Yes.” Kai crouched beside me. “We will kill him.”
Havh’tan’s eyelids flickered. “Hnn. Good.” Another flicker. “The one who rules the Court. Some call him Magnus Dux. Others, they call him Xever.”
I shifted closer. Ignoring Kai’s sharp inhalation, I sat beside the dying demon. “How do we find him?”