Chapter Nineteen
Nineteen
Cards on the table: I have no idea how to fight a demon.
It’s said that the best way to fight a demon is to not. Because if you’re in a fight with a demon, you’re just basically dead. Their magic follows no rules and is nearly limitless. In fact, they’re so powerful, I often wonder why it’s the syndicates in charge and not the demons.
This particular demon looks male, with dark hair and tall, slightly twisted horns. Its eyes are dark as midnight, the vein in its neck and arms stygian against pale skin, its fingers ending in blackened points.
It’s wearing a suit for some reason. Even demons like to feel fancy, I guess.
(The ones that showed up before my parents disappeared wore suits too.)
It steps toward us, bearing a horrid grin, its teeth sharpened into points. I wonder if that naturally happened when he transformed into a demon or if he did that himself.
“You have something we want,” it says, words layered in a thousand different voices, strident and distorted.
“I’m out,” Ezra mutters.
“And what’s that?” I ask the demon, bravado pushing me forward. And if my voice shakes a little, it’s just for dramatic effect.
The demon smirks. “The codex.”
“Finders keepers,” I say, my body tensing for a fight, adrenaline lighting up my nerve endings.
Oh god, we’re all going to die.
Rook steps in front of me with his hands up. “Look, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work, Crawford,” I whisper.
The demon tilts its head toward Rook. “No misunderstanding, weakling. That reward is ours.”
I take stock of our assets. We’re in a dusty attic.
I don’t see any furniture or items that can be used as weapons, just exposed beams and struts and the huge plastered dome taking up the center, so big it hides the other half of the room.
There’s an unconscious member of the Coven and six humans with varying degrees of magic and fighting skills.
Against one of the most powerful beings in existence.
I crack my knuckles and charge.
I’ve learned that when you don’t know what you’re doing, it’s best to make the first move so at least you have the element of surprise.
I intend to ram the demon in the stomach with my shoulder, but the hit never lands. Faster than my eye can track, its clawed hand shoots out, grabs my wrist, and, with a flick, sends me hurling into the dome. It cracks under the force, and I roll down it, landing in a heap on the floor.
“Elle!” Tolliver shouts.
My face is pressed against the floor and my head is fuzzy, but I’m lucid enough that I can feel Tolliver’s hand in mine, hear Poppy screaming and Ezra cursing.
By the time I blink back to full awareness, Rook has already engaged the demon.
The pain that had been muted before now surges through me as I push myself up enough to watch them fight faster than I’ve seen anyone fight before.
Guess Rook’s putting those black belts to good use.
I try to stagger to my feet, my legs are shaking.
“Whoa, wait,” Tolliver says, but I ignore him.
“Poppy, protect the codex,” I croak. “CJ, protect Poppy. Ezra, find a way out.”
There’s no response. I look around to find Ezra has already left. I mean, good for him, I guess, but I wish he’d waited for the rest of us.
Rook is in the middle of a roundhouse kick toward the demon’s sternum, but it catches his leg before hurling him like a bowling ball, knocking over CJ and Poppy.
Tolliver grabs a flask full of golden liquid out of his bag, pulls the cork out with his teeth, and then chucks it at the demon. The flask hits it square in the chest, bounces off, and then crashes to the floor, releasing a puff of shimmering smoke.
“What’s that supposed to do?” I ask, coughing as I try to remember where I put my mask (Rule #29: Always carry a mask).
“Make it fall asleep.” Tolliver frowns. “No, wait. Catch fire! Hold on.”
He starts rummaging in his bag.
“Labels, Tolliver!” Poppy shouts, mask half on.
“We should run!” Rook snaps, CJ helping him to his feet.
“To where?” I cry.
The dome in the center turns the attic into a circle, but the others are backing away like this is a goddamn episode of Scooby-Doo. If they keep backing away, they’re just going to end right back here.
You know what, I shouldn’t have to explain geometry right now.
Clouds of shimmery smoke billow so thickly around the demon, we can no longer see it.
There’s a gasp of breath, and we all watch in horror as the demon inhales all the smoke. It’s just gone, consumed by the demon, who stands there, unharmed, its teeth bared in a sinister grin.
“That’s not supposed to happen,” Tolliver mutters.
The demon flexes its hand, black tendrils of magic writhing from its palm.
“Go!” I shout, pushing the others back.
We’ve barely just stepped out of the way as something that’s part-lightning, part-smoke hits the wall behind us.
I urge the others around the dome. Poppy’s muttering something under her breath, arms cradling the codex.
She’s flanked by Rook and CJ. Tolliver’s eyes are wide as saucers.
We move just far enough that the dome blocks us from the demon’s line of sight, but again, and I can’t stress this enough, there’s nowhere to go.
“We have to lead him away from the hatch,” I whisper.
“Then what?” CJ snaps.
There’s no time to lower the rope, and no one’s jumping that far without breaking a bone. But broken bones are better than whatever a demon can do to you.
We fall silent, listening for footsteps, wondering which direction the demon will approach us from.
I let out a long breath. There’s only one way out of this, and it pisses me off. I turn to Tolliver, who’s still holding me steady. If there’s one thing I regret—well, it’s my brother’s death. But if there’s a second thing I regret, it’s that Tolliver and I only kissed the once.
“Get them out of here,” I say.
His eyes light with understanding. “Elle—”
I plant a quick kiss on his cheek.
“See you on the other side,” I say, pushing him away.
Someone has to distract the demon or no one’s getting out.
I step out from behind the dome.
The demon’s back is toward me, foot nudging the woman who’s still unconscious.
“Hey, ash-licker!” I shout. “Nice horns. You get those from a giraffe?”
It turns slowly, black eyes narrowing on me. This was such a terrible idea.
Welp. Too late now.
I brace myself as it stalks forward, the same black smoke swirling around its clawed fingers. Time slows. The air crackles, my hair lifting with static. The demon’s mouth draws into a snarl as the spell leaves its fingers, a jagged bolt of lightning. I throw my hands over my face and duck.
But the blow never comes.
I risk a glance to find Rook standing above me, hands braced as if holding up some invisible barrier the demon’s spell can’t breach.
Holy shit.
“Are you trying to get us killed?” he snarls, anger rolling off him in waves, eyes never leaving the demon.
“I’m trying to distract it so everyone can get out!” I snap back, but the attempt is half-hearted. I’m too in awe of his magic. Whatever it is, it’s stronger than a demon’s. Rook could be the most powerful being on earth.
The demon roars, slamming down its fist, and the invisible shield shatters like glass.
Okay, never mind.
“Weak,” the demon growls, throwing its hands out and pushing Rook back with a glistening rush of power.
I turn to help him, but before I can blink, claws clamp around my throat. The demon hoists me into the air and slams me against the curve of the dome.
Holy shit, that hurt.
The others are screaming as the demon repeats the attack again and again.
I hear a snap and crunch, and I don’t know if it’s my bones or the plaster.
Pain flashes in the back of my skull, over and over, until it blurs into numbness.
I’m close to passing out or maybe dying when the dome starts to groan under the assault. Cracks spider across the plaster.
I see what will happen next like a prophecy.
On the next strike, the dome gives. With the last of my strength, I hook my arm around the demon’s neck, wrap a leg around its waist, and as the dome collapses, I fall backward into the temple below, dragging the demon with me.