Born in Fire (Page 51)

“Leave his body,” I commanded again, latching on to the power of the demon and summoning it. My blood-fire sang my song, beckoning. The mage had a helluva hold to keep it from answering for so long. “Leave his body.”

Fire raced across the ceiling. I stood in a forest of flames. The gap roared, advertising my power but also spreading the aroma of my blood. Darius shook his head before his gaze locked with mine, full of hunger and need and desperation. I couldn’t see his eyes at this distance, but I could read every line of his body.

“Focus!” I yelled at him. All I needed was another enemy to add to the demon, mage, and stalking werewolves.

His arms left his sides. The rope ripped away like paper. The spell over his legs, still thankfully holding him in place, was coated in flame.

“Focus!” I yelled again. “Don’t be a dick, Darius. I need your help.”

He plucked more rope away as the fire worked its way down.

This was not going well.

One thing at a time.

Turning back to the mage, I shouted, “Leave your host!” while infusing my summoning with more power.

The mage screamed, curling in on himself, squeezing his hands into fists. The building shook. Dust drifted down from the sky. The blue light from the window died. My blood-fire climbed higher without waiting for me to ask.

I saw the stone floor within that pit, rising to its former height. The mage was closing the gap.

“That’s a neat trick,” I said, backing up. “Bad timing, though.” The vampire’s gaze was still on me, and I also had the undivided attention of the stalking werewolves, their eyes glowing sporadically through the row of flame.

A new sort of force rose inside me, coming from my depths and merging with my magic, pumping it higher. Adrenaline sped up my heart, my movements. The thrum of power pushed through my limbs, begging me to use it.

The new presence made itself known. I am here, master, it said in my head.

“Oops. That’s not what I meant to do.” I tore away the blood-fire, lessening the summoning. With dexterity that could only be passed down through bloodlines, I pushed the demon from my body and forced it to stand beside me in its original form, a hunched, horned kind of thing with stringy arms and leathery legs.

Darius kicked off the last of the rope and stepped forward, freed. His eyes blackened and his fangs grew, his primal side taking over.

“Not a good time for hunger, Darius,” I said, hearing a chorus of growls. In cutting out that fire, I’d also opened myself up for a werewolf attack. “I’m having a bad day.”

I blasted a stream of hellfire, Spider-Man-style, pulling the necessary power from my ugly brooch. The corroding flame burned through the air and hit the nearest werewolf. It yelped and stumbled, succumbing to the direct shot even though the magical fire coating the ground hadn’t singed it.

Good to know.

Darius rushed me, his pants catching fire almost immediately. I snatched out my gun and shot, belatedly realizing I hadn’t reloaded.

Click.

“Shit!” I stuffed it back in the holster and grabbed out my sword. I’d have to reload later.

With the other hand I grabbed a spell, all while pressing my control of the demon so it didn’t wriggle away. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. Something would have to give.

I threw the spell. Darius batted it away like it was nothing. It exploded off to the side, detonating too late. I braced until he got close, nothing more than a blur, he moved so fast, and struck. My blade barely met flesh before he dodged smoothly. I avoided a hand coming at me and launched, aiming for his middle. He turned to the side, my blade just missing, and kept coming.

“You are really fast.” I slashed down, getting part of his arm and not doing much damage.

His body hit me like a pile of bricks. He lifted me up and rushed me backward.

Snarls sounded right behind him. The demon was struggling against my bond.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I punched him just under his armpit and heard him grunt.

“I have very little control right now, Reagan,” he said in a rough voice. “It would be nice if you allowed me to protect you. Save the fighting for when we have a bed nearby.” I stopped struggling as he put me down near the wall. “I apologize in advance for my appearance.”

Before I could ask what he meant, his monster form bubbled out, a kind of pasty-white thing with long, fierce claws and black, stringy hair. Very gross indeed. At least he recognized it.

“Fire,” he muttered around his fangs. A claw pointed at the flame curling and flickering across the ground.

I peeled it away from his feet as the demon struggled against my control again.

A werewolf lunged for Darius. He rushed forward to meet it, slashing with his claws. Another ran at him from the side, jumping and wrapping its front legs around his torso. He flung the second against the wall as he slashed the first, opening a nasty, deep gash across its chest.

The thrown werewolf ricocheted off the wall and fell to the ground, baying in pain but not dead. I blasted it with hellfire, silencing it.

Another werewolf went flying, but the angle was such that if I used hellfire I might get Darius accidentally. I reloaded my gun while Darius stuck his claws into the belly of yet another beast. I stepped around him and shot repeatedly, hitting the other werewolf with three slugs.

“Need sh-ilver,” Darius slurred through his fangs.

I’d forgotten that. Dang.

“Wait, you’re not using silver.”

“Magical. Clawsh.”

Ah. I didn’t have those.

Back to my sword, I chopped at the hindquarters of a werewolf swiping at Darius. The blade sliced through and the beast bayed, falling to the ground.

The sword was a go.

I stepped forward and finished it off while Darius took the brunt of the next attack. He slashed and stabbed handily—strength, speed, and power working seamlessly together. The werewolf barely had time to yelp before succumbing to its fate.

There was one left, and it was running at a full sprint toward the back.

“Is there a door back there?” I asked, readying myself for another blast of hellfire.

Darius took three lightning-fast steps in that direction before stopping and looking back at me from a ghastly face. He glanced at the demon next—and then slowly walked back toward me. His monster form melted back into his handsome man form, only he no longer had on any clothes.

I got an eyeful.

“Pants, man! Put on some pants!” I ripped my gaze away. The demon struggled against my control, getting a few steps toward the back door before I caught hold of him. My power was low, though, after all that hellfire.

“Let me join you, master.” Its words were sweet and syrupy, echoing through the quietness.

“Join me for what? A game of Parcheesi? Give me a break; everyone knows demons cheat.” I handled my sword, letting it pull more power. My legs wobbled.

“Banish the demon.” Darius shadowed me. “The mage escaped through the front. We must follow.”

“I can’t banish it. It’ll tell my dad on me. That is a war I do not want to fight.”

“Let me worship you, master. I will be your servant in the underworld.” A bug crawled out from a crack in its black, gooey skin.

“Ew. No. Don’t you have a human form?”

“It’s not powerful enough to change form.” Darius put his hand on my shoulder. “If you strike, and you do not have the ability to kill it, there is a good chance it will bleed you of your power. Banish it. If your…creator hears and comes to the surface, we can negotiate.”

“He isn’t my creator, he’s my father, and I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” I slashed my sword through its middle, its weakest point going by the lack of horns and nobs. My blade ate through flesh. Fire burned up and turned into smoke. My sword sucked more power from me.

I pulled the blade out and stabbed, spearing the demon in the neck. It didn’t move to thwart me, but then, it didn’t have to. I could chop it up into a hundred pieces, and as long as it still had magic, it would continue living in this world, hoping to find a body to possess.

My head drooped as my diminishing power fought with the demon’s. That human sacrifice had allowed him to call a level-three demon, and while before the hellfire and the blood-fire I would’ve been fine, I surely wasn’t fine now.

“Reagan, pull out,” Darius said, his voice laced with worry.

“That’s what she said.” Dizziness came over me, but I let my sword take more. I depleted my ugly brooch. “Almost there.”

“Reagan,” Darius said again, a plea in his voice.

“How cute that you care,” I mumbled, holding on. Feeling the demon’s power sapping. Overcoming the magic that had brought him out of the underworld.

“Here.” A warm wrist bumped against my mouth. “This will help. Drink.”

I sank to my knees, feeling the blackness coming.

I could do it. I could overcome this demon. But I might have to sacrifice my life to do so.

The alternative was banishing it, easy to do. If I did that, I’d be giving up my freedom.

Banishing it was not an option.

I sucked.

The taste of Darius’s blood infused my senses. It wasn’t the explosion of unicorn blood, but something about it was almost more appealing. It was like him—smooth, decadent, and silky, winding through my body in a delicious way.