Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(15)

When they began skulking closer, she had no choice but to hasten straight for the murky forest, glancing over her shoulder as she ran.

While the ghouls were resilient, able to lope along after prey for dozens of miles at the same pace, Carrow’s own strength and endurance were better than a human’s, but not like a Valkyrie’s or a Fury’s. So how to lose them . . . ?

Just as the thought arose, they began slowing. In fact, once she’d breached the forest, the ghouls halted. Past the line of trees, she turned back. They were prowling at the very edge, wary. Something within had them spooked.

But sooner or later, they’d come for her. Deciding that nothing could be worse than the troop of zombies on her heels, she plunged ahead.

Picking her way over rocks and stone tree trunks, she increased her pace when she could. Her lungs burned, her muscles screaming . . . .

Right when she’d begun to suspect she’d gained a safe distance, she spied more shapes moving amid the trees. A new threat. Numerous eyes glowed back at her from the shadows, beings surrounding her. They were sentient males—she could perceive their emotions.

And the predominant one was lust.

When they closed in, forcing her to stop, she saw there were at least a dozen of them in various shapes and sizes. They were all humanlike, but each had horns and upper and lower sets of fangs. Which meant demons.

She turned in place, drawing a harried breath to speak, wondering if they’d understand English. She knew natives likely wouldn’t.

But before she could say a word, the smallest one brandished a spear in her direction. He blinked his eyes so rapidly, Carrow dimly wondered if the world looked like an old-timey film to him. “Is she one of the mortals, Asmodel?” he asked in English. Non-natives. They were probably exiled criminals.

Like the others, he was dressed in tattered clothes, indicating they’d been here for a while.

The largest one, this Asmodel, said, “Smells like an immortal to me.” With the back of his hand, he swiped a line of ropy drool from his mouth. “First female I’ve seen in the wastelands. Ever.”

No females were here? So these were hard-up exiled criminals? Beauty. Putting on a bold front, she said, “I am an immortal, a powerful member of the House of Witches.” But she was tottering on her feet, sooty and bedraggled. Scarcely looking like a high-powered witch.

A demon with green skin asked, “Then why have you not smote us?”

Even with her torque deactivated, right now she was a no-powered witch. Need some happiness here, guys. “An excellent idea, demon.” Brazen it out, Carrow. “Though if you allow me to pass, I might consider sparing your lives. Otherwise, I’m debating whether to turn your viscera into nests of vipers or your bones to sand.”

Unimpressed, they paid her no heed, arguing among themselves. The gang’s intention with her was clear, even before the small one uttered, “I go first.”

“The hell you will, Sneethy,” Asmodel said.

Carrow shuddered. She had no way to defend herself, and she was surrounded with no place to run. Brazen! Raising her palms threateningly, she said, “Then you’ve left me no choice. Surrender now, or—”

Sneethy called her bluff, merrily yanking free her backpack, scraping her shoulders.

“Hey!” When he dug into it, rifling through her things, she snapped, “Go Yoda someone else’s supplies, *.”

He ignored her, distributing her PowerBars with glee. Those were scarfed down before he’d even held up her canteen with a “whoop!”

But his excitement faded as he sniffed the air. “It comes.” His low voice conveyed fear—and awe. “Though we haven’t crossed into its territory.”

So what was it?

With darting eyes, the green demon said, “We go now!”

Asmodel stalked closer to Carrow. “I go nowhere without this female.” More drool dripped from his lips. “She would be worth her weight in water! Even used.”

“You’d risk facing it?” Sneethy said.

Apparently so, because Asmodel seized her arm. She kicked down on his instep, but it didn’t even faze him. As she fought, he dragged her along deeper into the woods.

“Stop struggling!” he ordered. “You’ll be our concubine—or the beast’s dinner. And it nears even now.”

What in the hell had spooked a gang of demons like this? As they all plunged into a copse of petrified saplings, the fleeter ones darted ahead, the slower ones lagging. The young trees had grown so close, it was like wending through a smoke-laced cornfield. Good cover.

Yet the demons grew more uneasy, drawing their weapons and crouching low. Asmodel pulled a wooden club from his belt. Sneethy sniffed the air again and whimpered, raising his spear.

The green demon drew a hunting knife and muttered, “It stalks us.” A demon worried about being stalked?

When she heard a gurgling yell behind them, her eyes went wide. She ceased any resistance, fleeing with them when the gang began running. At intervals, she glanced back, as unnerved as they were.

Then, directly on the path ahead, they came across one of the faster demons—beheaded so recently his body was still kneeling.

As the corpse collapsed, Asmodel sneered, “No, the beast plays with us.”

Another demon’s scream warbled from behind them. They’d barely gone a dozen steps in the other direction when something that sounded like a boomerang sailed through the air overhead. Blood rained down from it.