“Yes, agreed.” I swallowed hard, glad that my voice didn’t reveal the fear that was jumping through me. I caught a glimpse of Jax, his eyes pinched in worry. A nauseating mix of dread and fear shook my knees, and I held my breath so I wouldn’t get sick.
But I had to fulfill my end of the bargain. Otherwise, we’d never get answers. Jax deserved to know the truth, and we needed to know who had summoned Degamon.
Jax straightened his shoulders. “It’s Jaxon Spencer.”
The demon closed its eyes. A soft sound of satisfaction emanated from Degamon—a long, low rumble of contentment and pleasure.
Without warning, Jax jerked forward, and I heard his sharp intake of breath. He gasped, his eyes flying wide open. His hand went to his chest. And then he went still as though some force held him with an invisible string.
I blinked against my tears as Jax’s face trickled in sweat, and his bottom lip trembled. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to scream but nothing came out. Gagging, Jax struggled to breathe. In a moment of panic, I thought the demon had lied and was killing him. But then Jax fell back, breathing harshly enough that I could hear it. Ashy and pale, he stood stock-still, but alive.
I straightened, and cold sweat dribbled down my temples and back.
Across from me, Degamon was beaming, and I didn’t like it.
“Jax, you okay?” My throat was tight, and I felt a stabbing pain in my chest as though part of my soul had been taken right along with Jax’s name.
Jax’s eyes widened even farther. His lips parted, and he stood there, seemingly unable to even blink.
“Jax?”
Jax turned his head and nodded, his gaze distant, and I couldn’t tell if he was in pain or not. Frowning, he studied the demon for a long moment. “So, is it you?” Jax’s anger showed through his frustration and eagerness. “Did you kill my sister?”
“No,” said Degamon in a voice as though it had surprised itself. “I did not kill your sister. The demon you’re looking for goes by the name of Strax. It’s a lesser demon, a rakshasa.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. I hated being right.
Jax clenched his jaw. “And the name of the person who summoned you to kill the Unmarked?”
The demon remained silent, its black eyes on Jax.
I glared at the murderous demon and wished it would get a new shape already. “A bargain’s a bargain,” I said. “Give us the name—”
“I can’t,” it chortled. “I don’t have it.”
“I knew it,” spat Tyrius. “It tricked us!”
I started. “It can’t trick us. It’s bound to the circle, to me.” I gritted my teeth. “Degamon. I command you to tell me!”
“Command? Did you say… command? You insignificant little speck of existence.” My father’s face started to warp, twisting his features to something more animal-like in nature. “You don’t command me.”
“Banish it!” cried Tyrius. “Forget the names! Banish it before it’s too late.”
With a trembling hand, from both anger and fear, I yanked out my piece of paper. Holding it out in front of me, I read the banishing spell.
“Per júdicem vivórum et mortuórum! Sed enim mundi Creator! Qui habet potestatem mittere in infernum! Degamon! Ut abire ex regno protinus!” I shouted. “By the Judge of the living and the dead! By that who has the power to cast into the Netherworld! Degamon! Leave this kingdom immediately!”
Degamon threw its head back and laughed, a horrifying, guttural laugh that could only be demon. There was nothing human in it, and it chilled me to the bone.
“Bloody hell.” Tyrius backed up from the circle, his fur sticking on its end making him look twice as large. “It didn’t work. The spell didn’t work!”
“That’s impossible.” I didn’t like the panic in my voice. “You’re bound to me! I know your true name!”
The demon’s face lost its amusement, and its expression deadly serious, ran its attention over my face. “True. But you’ve made a grave mistake, little mortal, a mistake that’ll cost you your lives.”
I gripped my soul blade and took a step forward. I could kill it now. It was still bound to the magic circle.
Its black eyes fixed on my soul blade and then smiled. Fear tightened my stomach. “You cannot kill what cannot die. Your tiny angel weapon has no effect on me. Nor do your dark witch spells.”
“You’re still bound to the circle,” I hissed. “And I can still vanquish you back to the Netherworld!”
Degamon shrugged. “But… am I bound?” questioned the demon, and my pulse pounded. “While your Seal of Solomon is correct, and would work on lesser demons, there are keys that can unlock and alter a summoning circle. Just like that one on your wrist.”
My heart leaped in my throat.
Degamon sneered, making my blood pressure rise. “I was never bound to you, angel-born.”
In a blur of limbs, Degamon broke from the circle.
20
The three of us jumped back as Degamon landed outside the circle. Still in my father’s form, it shivered as red and black vapors coiled around it. With its hands it pulled at its face and body, and its skin stretched like gum and melted wax, hitting the floor in clumps of hissing vapors. Nasty.
I knew some Greater demons were pagan gods and goddesses, but this thing was way too ugly to be either, or they had dropped their standards.
Degamon stretched to its full height, I guessed about eight and a half feet tall, as its head nearly grazed my nine-foot ceiling. Humanoid, it stood upright, a giant demon with seeping skin as red as blood and a mismatch of black fur along its back, arms, and legs. It looked as though its flesh was still in the stages of decomposition. Taloned fingers brushed the floor, and its thin-fleshed arms dripped with red and yellow sores. Its head was the shape of an egg, abnormally large, with a mouth that was too big and filled with too many sharp, yellow teeth. The only thing that remained of my demon-father were the eyes.
Its black eyes focused on me. “Angel brat,” it snarled. “I shall take pleasure in killing you, in drinking your blood and tearing your flesh from your bones as I did the others.”
“Screw you,” I seethed and braced myself, feeling another wave of fever pour over me.
“Nothing personal,” snickered Degamon, its lips stretched across its face to its ears in a gruesome attempt at a smile. “A job’s a job. Isn’t that right, Hunter?”
It moved in a blur of red, faster than any demon I’d seen before, tearing up the floorboards as it came at me in a rush. For a moment, I was frozen, staring at the nightmare demon that I had unleashed upon the mortal world. Me. My fault.
Degamon charged, and I spun, slipping away at the last instant. My pulse quickened, and the adrenaline spiked, but it did nothing now to hide my fatigue and fever. Even now, as I moved, I could tell it was with an added effort, more strenuous every time. I was weakening. Weakening for the first time in my life. And it scared the crap out of me.
Movement caught my eye, and there was Jax, whirling with cold grace in an onslaught of flashing blades. With detached efficiency, Jax caught the demon on the point of his blade. As he came down and around the demon, his blade sliced open the demon’s hide in a powerful stroke.
Degamon hissed and backhanded Jax with the brute force of twenty men. Jax flew backward and hit the kitchen cabinets in an explosion of cabinet doors and pots and pans.
“I’ve had enough of playing, whore,” snarled Degamon, just as I heard Jax curse and get up. “I want what’s mine, what’s been promised. Are you’re going to give it to me, or do I have to take it from you—”
“Who promised?” I prompted. I knew it was a long shot, but maybe it would get cocky and answer.
Degamon whirled and dove at me. Maybe not.
The demon hit me before I knew it had moved. My face exploded into a fiery agony, and I crashed backward into the small sofa. Without pause, I sprang back into the fight and skillfully avoided the flashing of its claws and fangs.
&n
bsp; “I was sent to kill you,” said Degamon. Black blood oozed from the cut Jax had given it and dripped down its side. “But in truth, killing angel-born brings me joy, so much so that I’m willing to do it for free.”
Degamon sprang in a storm of claws and fangs. It felt as if I were fighting a shadow. No lesser demon could move the way it did. I lurched back but not fast enough. A swipe of Degamon’s powerful claws caught me in the stomach, and I tumbled to the floor. It was on me in a matter of seconds. I brought my knees up, protecting my stomach. We rolled on the floor, each trying to gain the advantage. With its emaciated, blistered arms constricting my chest, the demon tried to muscle me onto my stomach. I could feel fetid breath on my face as I saw a mouthful of teeth, lowering toward my neck—
Degamon howled and sprang back, releasing me, and I took a heavy breath.
“Come on! You bastard!” Jax stood behind the demon and the kitchen table, his face blotched in red spots. The tip of his blade dripping with black blood.
“Come to papa, daemonium!” yelled Tyrius, eyes flashing with demon magic. He slashed the air with his claws, a quick gesture, graceful with murderous mastery.
“Come on!” Jax yelled again, swinging his blade.
“With pleasure.”
My chest tightened as Degamon leaped over the table toward Jax and Tyrius. The room suddenly resounded with a peal of thunder at the burst of battle. I saw flashes of red, streaks of fur, and sweeping arcs of steel. Shards of wood filled the air.
A wave of nausea swept over me, and I fell to the floor on all fours like an animal. Sweat trickled into my vision and my eyes burned. I blinked, trying to focus as the world around me tipped. I saw Degamon, wild and attacking with the grace of a skilled killer. Its arms lashed around, talons out like huge blades. Jax swung his weapon to keep the sharp talons at bay. Degamon’s teeth snapped as it lunged at him. Jax thrust his blade, piercing the demon’s neck with a glancing strike, enough that the demon reeled back in pain and fury.
“It’s funny,” Jax said, examining the demon. “I’ve fought my share of demons, but you are by far one of the ugliest SOBs. And what’s with the smell? Man, you stink.”
“No one bathes in the Netherworld,” yowled Tyrius, his back arched as though he was waiting for the opportunity to pounce. “It’s one of the reasons why I left.”
Degamon opened its mouth and hissed. “You’ll be bathing in your own blood once I’m finished with you.”
“How original.” Jax made a show of his blade as he twirled it skillfully in his hand like a baton. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before. For a demon as old as dirt, you need to get new material.” Jax turned his head and our eyes met, his face scrunching in concern at the sight of my increasing fatigue.
Degamon grinned, and its lips cracked, coating its teeth in black blood. “I might not have killed your sister,” it said, “but I know she screamed for her mommy as her innards were being pulled out of her and eaten while she still drew breath.”
“Jax! Don’t!” I yelled, having seen his face go pale and the deep fury in his eyes. He was lost in his own pain and anger. And that was a recipe for mistakes. He was going to get himself killed.
With a scream of rage, Jax raised his blade and dove at the demon in a savage onslaught of blades and kicks. Degamon moved like the wind, causing Jax to miss his target. He whipped his blade up and outward with frightening speed.
I heard a grunt from Degamon as it bounced back. Surprise crossed its ugly features. It moved its hand away from its abdomen, its talons dripping in black blood.
“You’ve got skill, tiny human,” said Degamon. “You move like your angel forebears, but you’re not quite as proficient as them.”
“I’ll take the compliment.” Grinning, Jax crouched. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“If you were smart,” snickered Degamon, circling Jax, “you’d give up the girl. I’m not here for you. Just her. Is your life worth hers? No, it’s not. You barely know her. Leave now. No one will know. I just want the girl.” The demon cocked its head to the side. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
Jax gave a confident jerk of his head, his mouth cutting into a cruel line. “You can take your deal and shove it up your big red ass.”
Degamon stiffened. “Typical mortal response. So banal and unimaginative. It’s almost irritatingly laughable in its simplicity.”
“Bite me, you freakin’ red bastard,” said Jax, grinning like a fool. “Was that typical enough for ya?”
I blinked, and my chest swelled with gratitude and surprise. I doubted another angel-born would have stood up for me like that. They would have left to save their own skin.
“It’s your funeral,” the demon breathed. “One more soul is like one more glass of wine. You can never stop at just one.”
Jax shrugged. “I prefer beer.”
A sneer twisted Degamon’s face as it swung at him with its arms. Its jaws snapped as it came after Jax. He rolled to the side to avoid the slashing claws, but again and again, with a blur of claws and teeth, the demon struck. My heart caught in my throat as Jax twisted and leaped while its taloned hand lashed down at him, barely missing his face. Fear gripped me so much it hurt.
Degamon was going to rip Jax to shreds. I had to help him.
Powered by my anger, I staggered to my feet. Still clutching my soul blade, I took a steadying breath and crossed the room, my thighs pulsing with the effort to stay standing. My steps were labored, and I wasn’t sure I could make it without tipping over.
But I had to. I had to help Jax.
Jax spun around, avoiding the deadly claws, but he was holding his left arm close to his chest. He’d been hurt. I could see the hatred flaming in his eyes as the need to kill this demon took him over the edge. He swung his blade faster and faster as Degamon charged to meet it.
Blood erupted everywhere, showering Jax’s arms, his head, his clothes. Both red and black. The blood reeked, somehow, of death and decay. And then Jax fell, hitting the floor hard.
“Jax!” My voice sounded loud in the sudden silence. Degamon whirled at the sound of my approach. Its black eyes met mine, and the smile it gave me turned my blood cold.
A flash of beige fur came out of the corner of my vision. Tyrius darted forward. He bounded onto Degamon’s back, lashing out at the bigger demon with his claws. With his ears back, he struck the demon’s hide, and a black welt appeared, welling black blood. Degamon hissed as it tried to get a grip on Tyrius, but the cat skillfully avoided the deadly talons.
I met Tyrius’s eyes, and I knew exactly what the cat was thinking. He was distracting the demon for me, so I could finish it off.
Head pounding with the migraine of the century, I gathered what strength I had and went for Degamon, my blade angled toward its neck. The scent of rotten eggs filled the air around me, and I slipped on the blood on the floor—
Tyrius’s strangled cry froze me into place. He cried out as Degamon’s talons struck him, knocking him aside the way a tiger might strike aside a bunny. Tyrius flew across the room and hit the back wall with a sickening crunch. He slipped to the floor and was still.
Tears welled into my eyes. “You bastard!” My bottom lip trembled. “I’m going to kill you—”
Degamon’s hand wrapped around my throat, lifting me off my feet. It pulled me toward its face. Its hot, rancid breath was enough to knock out a grown man.
“Mortals are like maggots. You survive on diseased flesh and rotting meat. Strange how something so small and insignificant can be so... feisty.” Its eyes rolled over my body, “A tender angel-born, flesh so soft and so, so tasty.”
Degamon tightened its grip, and the last of my air rushed out of my lungs. Without air, my arms hung loosely at my sides. My vision speckled with black spots.
“You’ll never know who summoned me to kill you,” said Degamon, the thrill in its voice at the promise of my soul made the hair on my arms stand on end.
I moved my lips, trying to te
ll the demon to go screw itself, but no words would come.
Degamon’s grin widened at the sight of my despair. “I’m going to enjoy drinking your blood. I’m going to take my time with you, little mortal. The females always taste sweeter.”
Looking up at the ceiling, I tried to draw a breath. But I couldn’t. Cold panic swept through me as I tried to get air. It wouldn’t come. My stomach muscles clenched in spasms, but I couldn’t get a breath. I was going to die. Is this what death felt like? Alone, cold, and in pain…
Tears, either from the pain or the fear, fell freely over my cheeks. I couldn’t die like this, basking in the foul breath of some Greater demon. It was embarrassing. It hurt like hell, but all I could think of was if the demon was on me, it couldn’t hurt Tyrius or Jax.
I gasped for breath, still unable to find any. A shadow moved in my peripheral vision. It looked like a cat, but it also might have been a hallucination. Lack of air would do that to a person.
But as my black spots cleared for just a moment, I saw Tyrius, the Siamese cat standing, his eyes burning with demon magic and turning from their usual blue to a bright yellow. Darkness rippled around Tyrius like shreds of clothing in the wind, but that too could have been just my hallucination.
Degamon followed my gaze, and for a moment, I swear I saw surprise in those bottomless black eyes. Oddly, Degamon dropped me and I hit the floor like a stone. I crashed face-first on the wood floor, knocking my hip. I gasped as delicious air filled my lungs.
I took a shuddering breath, blinking through the tears. Through my blurred vision I saw a tiny form on the floor facing the giant demon.
Grunting with effort, I pushed myself up with one arm and with the other hand seized the hilt of my blade.
“Tyrius,” I gasped, crawling on the floor. “No.” He was going to sacrifice himself. I couldn’t let that happen. I saw Jax on the ground, his nose bloody as he tried to sit up.
But the tiny cat ignored me.
And then something truly spectacular happened. Tyrius began to glow.
Dark Hunt Page 14
