Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(72)

What was so important to her? He wouldn’t allow her to have anything she wanted, would ruthlessly keep her from it. His vengeance was only beginning. He lifted her once more, looping his arm under her legs, clamping her against his chest.

Yet then she whispered, “P-please, Malkom,” as she pressed her wet face against his chest. She raised her arms, clasping her hands behind his neck.

And he hated her for that, for seeming to want to be close to him, for reminding him of what he’d lost.

“Take me into that tunnel. Help me . . . .”

He’d go to destroy whatever she wanted so badly. To kill it, as she’d killed everything he’d dreamed of.

When he charged into the blackness, she let out a relieved sob. “Thank you, thank you,” she murmured over and over.

You will not thank me for long, witch. He journeyed deep, until he came upon a barrier of rocks. He scented blood covering the outer edges of several. Carrow’s blood.

From behind the stones reached a child’s tiny hand, one resembling his own female’s—soft, pale, clawless. Limp.

Defenseless.

He was so shocked that when Carrow thrashed again, he released her.

She dove for that hand, clutching it in her own, crying over it. “Ruby, hold on, baby!”

Ruby. He remembered the dreams. Think of Ruby.

In an instant, he understood. These mortals had held her offspring captive, forcing her to do their bidding. Carrow had tried to explain to him about her baby, had cried as she’d betrayed him.

But she’d had no choice.

The bitter hatred he’d been struggling with began to lift.

’Tis not the end.

She turned to him with tears streaming down her face. “Malkom, please help us.”

She will turn to me, and I will take her troubles away . . . .



The demon loomed over her, seething, his muscles standing out with strain. Moments ago, he’d looked on the edge of madness, like a true fallen vampire. Now his brows drew together.

“She’s just a little girl, not even eight years old,” Carrow whispered. “I can’t get her free. I need you to save her.”

His onyx eyes flickered.

“Please, Malkom. Please.”

At that, he attacked the rocks as though they were an enemy. He dug down, clawing until his fingers bled, too.

Another quake rocked the tunnel. “Hurry, demon!”

Soon he’d busted away a gap in the barrier, large enough for Carrow to ease Ruby through. Unconscious? She laid her ear to Ruby’s chest, then to her mouth. Her breaths and heartbeat were normal! She checked her head for knots or blood, found neither. “Ah, gods, she’s just fainted. She’ll be okay.”

Carrow gazed up at Malkom like the hero he was, with all the gratitude she felt. “Y-you understand now, don’t you?”

He gave a nod.

With her free hand, she cupped the back of his neck, tugging him down to give him a teary kiss. Against his lips, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

When he pulled back, his gaze bored into hers, the message clear.

We’ll be finishing what we started.

And she wasn’t broken up about that.

Another explosion rocked the facility. He assessed the ceiling. “Not safe in here.” Before she could blink, he’d snagged her sword from the ground, stabbing it into the sheath at her waist. “We have to get out.”

Clasping Ruby to her chest, she said, “I follow you.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, then hurried them out of the tunnel.

Back out in the labyrinthine facility, Carrow searched for Lanthe and Regin everywhere, calling for them, yet hearing no reply. She also kept an eye out for Ember—and Fegley’s hand.

But the chaos had gotten worse. Ember’s flames soared. Mortal scientists were screaming, creatures feeding on them, ghouls infecting them in large numbers. Soldiers attacked Malkom—a seeming army of them—but he slew them all, protecting Carrow and Ruby.

As they passed the PX, Carrow noticed two fey women she’d seen around New Orleans once or twice. One was tall and lithe, the other shorter and curvy. The pair had just finished stuffing a backpack full of supplies.

Remembering her stint in Oblivion, Carrow paused. She knew how rainy this island was, and she’d sworn that she would never go out into the elements unprepared again. I didn’t even have a child with me then.

Yet there was no time to pack their own, and the supplies were picked over. When Malkom turned back, she quietly told him, “We need that pack.”

He faced the two, saying in thickly accented English, “Your pack. Give it to me.”

“No way!” the tall one said. “Go to hell . . . .” She trailed off when Malkom growled and bared his fangs. “Sure thing,” she amended, handing it over. “All yours.”

Carrow tapped his shoulder. “We need the sweater from one and the rain jacket from the other.”

He snapped his fingers.

“This is so uncool, witch,” the shorter one said as she shrugged out of her sweater. “We’re supposed to be allies.”

“Sorry, but I’ve got a kid to take care of.”

Malkom stuffed the clothes into the pack, then strapped it on, leading her away once more.

I could get used to having a demon around.