Thoughts and emotions whirled in my head like a maelstrom, and Eterran was quiet, giving me space. Or he was retreating as far as he could from the chaotic human feelings he so despised.
The bike’s tires splashed through the puddles dotting the empty parking pad. The rain had let up as I’d neared the house, but I’d still gotten drenched. Rubbing my sleeve over my forehead, I pushed the motorcycle into the corner by the fence. As I threw the cover over it, I wondered what Kai would say if he knew I was borrowing his bike. With my limited depth perception, it was a better choice than an enclosed vehicle; I could sense the air currents around me, giving me a slight edge.
Still, not particularly safe.
I headed for the backyard gate, and with aero magic on my mind, I absently stretched my senses out, checking for movement. My hand closed over the gate latch.
The breeze wasn’t the only air movement nearby.
Eterran snapped to attention and power surged through us. The temperature plunged as demonic magic flashed over my arms and into my hands.
My arm shot up, reaching for an object I could sense swinging toward me, and I caught a limb clad in cool leather—but I couldn’t see it. The air shifted all around me, frenzied input, too much to track, but my eyes saw nothing except the parking pad and fence.
Phantom claws, six inches long, formed over my fingers and I struck with my free hand. The talons sank into the wooden fence with a muffled crunch.
Something sharp dug into my lower ribs. Something else, blunt and hard as steel, pushed into my spine, and yet something else pressed against my side, just above my left kidney.
Like a light switch flipping on, a man appeared in front of me. I held his wrist, preventing his silver dagger from reaching my throat, but his second blade had cut through my shirt, the tip stinging my flesh as he angled it to pierce between my ribs. My talons were buried in the fence beside his head, and one had grazed the side of his face.
Blood trickled down Darius’s cheek as his steely gray eyes stared into mine.
On my blind side—that would be Girard. I couldn’t see him, but the weapon he was ramming into my side would be his enchanted pistol, loaded with bullets that were more alchemy than lead. And behind me could be none other than Alistair, his steel-tipped staff wedged into my spine so that, with one powerful thrust, he could shove my vertebrae through my spinal cord.
Eterran’s thoughts rippled as he considered and discarded a dozen plans of attack in a heartbeat. We could probably kill one of them, but we’d die anyway.
Eterran, I thought.
Bitterness flashed, then the demon receded. The demonic power coursing through me thinned and faded. As the talons piercing the fence post dissolved, I noted the difference in my response to an attack now as compared to only a few days ago. The demonic power, once my last resort, had risen to my command instantly.
There were as many disadvantages to allowing Eterran this much autonomy within me as there were advantages.
“I thought you were going to wait,” I said quietly.
Darius’s emotionless gaze searched my eyes. “That was the plan … until your behavior changed.” His dagger parted my skin above my lowest rib. “Your demon has already learned to control you in your sleep.”
“He isn’t controlling me.”
“Would you even know anymore, Ezra?”
My eyelids hooded as I considered that. “Ask Robin Page.”
Surprise flickered over Darius’s stony features.
“I’ve been working with her.” I studied him. “You know about her, don’t you?”
The dagger eased out of my flesh. “I know.”
He said nothing more about Robin, and I didn’t ask. That was the thing with Darius. He was the ultimate keeper of secrets, and for better or worse, he would never reveal one of his guilded’s secrets without permission—even when it might save someone’s life. If it wasn’t his secret to share, then Darius wouldn’t so much as drop a hint.
“And what are you working on with Robin?” he asked neutrally.
“A way to survive.”
Another flash of surprise. “What brought on your change of heart?”
I grimaced.
“Ah.” Darius smiled faintly. “Our fiery bartender inspires us all.”
He pulled his dagger away from my ribs and I released his wrist. As his blades slid into the sheaths belted to his hips, Girard and Alistair retreated a step. I shifted out from their lethal circle and turned to bring all three men into view.
Black leather, cold eyes, deadly experience, and enough magic to defeat almost anyone. The mythic world was lucky these three could be counted among the good guys.
Darius flipped the latch on the gate, and I followed him into the yard. The other two waited in the alley.
“Are you in control, Ezra?” my GM asked.
Again, I considered his question carefully. “I think so.” I let out a slow breath. “Eterran wants to survive too. Tori allied with him, and I … I’ve done the same.”
“That’s a dangerous line to walk.”
Ice blanketed my mind as Eterran pushed me aside. “As dangerous as the line you walk with the demon of Vh’alyir?”
Wariness flared in Darius’s eyes, and I quickly resumed control.
“One way or another, this will end soon,” I said. “I want to try.”
The former assassin assessed me for a long moment. “Imminent death does strange things to the mind, Ezra. It brings out the best in some, and the worst in others. I’ve feared all along that, when the time came, we would have to face your worst.”
I opened my mouth to protest.
His hand closed around my shoulder, gripping tightly. “You can’t rise above your worst if you’ve never faced it.” He turned away. “We’ll be keeping an eye on you, but I expect updates as well.”
I watched him stride to the gate. He swung it closed, and as the latch dropped into place, he looked back at me, Girard and Alistair behind him.
“I’ve waited six years for you to commit to the fight, Ezra. Don’t disappoint me.”
Their footfalls crunched across the parking pad, but when they walked onto the asphalt of the alleyway, the sound of their steps went silent. They faded from sight, disappearing as Darius’s magic bent the light around them.
I pressed a hand to my ribs, where blood had soaked through my shirt.
Inside the house, I showered, dabbed a healing potion on the shallow cut, and dressed in comfortable clothes. The rooms echoed, painfully empty, as I walked through the house. In my bedroom, I pulled my guitar from its stand, sat on my bed, and plucked each string to check it was in tune.
Too many secrets. Mine. Tori’s. Robin’s.
My eyes closed as I let my fingers slide across the strings and press into the frets, the quiet notes scarcely heard.
Aaron and Kai had only given up because I’d asked them to stop. Darius had been waiting for me to fight for my life. Tori had risked everything to keep me alive long enough to take up the fight on my behalf.
Why did I wait this long to try?
Eterran stirred, his mind more calm than usual, the sharp cut of his bitterness dulled. Do you want to know?
My fingers hesitated on the guitar strings.
He just told you.
Who?
Darius.
What do you mean?
The memory replayed—Darius’s hand on my shoulder, his murmured words. You can’t rise above your worst if you’ve never faced it.