Embraced (The Eternal Balance #2)(57)
Falel acted first. He propelled himself forward, crashing into the group of demons like a bowling ball headed for the perfect strike. They scattered and the room erupted in battle. Mishca screamed, a string of syllables I didn’t understand. She jerked me backward and launched herself into the fray to join her partner.
As the two groups clashed, I inched to the left, trying to find a clear path to the stairs. But every time I made a move, the battle would overflow, sealing me in. Bodies flew, so did curses, and the entire house seemed to shake. It was impossible to cut a path through the swath of destruction they carved.
Considering it was five against two, Mishca and Falel held their own. Falel took down two demons, his blade dripping with blood and gore. He stopped for a moment to take a triumphant breath, then rushed to help Mishca, but he was too focused on her. He was taken down by a blade through the back of his head, dealt by the tallest demon. His body fell to the ground, eyes frozen in surprise, the sound of it lost to the chaos.
Upon seeing her comrade fall, Mishca let out an otherworldly howl. She’d taken out one of the demons on her own, but was now caught, restrained by one at each arm.
“You should have retreated when we offered you the chance, angel.” The tall demon gave a dark laugh. It placed a hand on either side of her head and pushed her to her knees.
They were going to kill her, but there was nothing I could do. Not that she would have deserved my help anyway, after everything she did to me. With the battle all but over, and the remaining demons focused on Mishca, I eased out of my safe corner and inched toward the staircase. I didn’t even make it three steps.
“Where do you think you’re going?” The tall one growled. He towered over me, lips pulled back to reveal a toothy grin. “We’re here to rescue you.”
“Really,” I said, chancing a sideways glance at Mishca and the other demon. She was still on her knees, with the demon’s hand around her neck. I took a step away. “And who’s going to save me from you?”
His hand shot out and closed around my upper arm, clamping down with brutal force. I bit back a gasp. “Lord Azirak sent us.”
Great. The demonic cavalry. Except I was pretty sure they were anything but. If they were, in fact, Azirak’s demons, then they were acting on their own. That, or…
Acid bubbled up in my stomach and I swallowed back a rush of bile. What if Azirak had sent them? Did that mean Jax found Malphi? That she’d gotten to him?
“My name is Karak.” The demon gave a slight bow and winked. His grip around my arm tightened as he dragged me toward the stairs. “Come. Your presence is needed elsewhere.”
As we reached the middle of the stairs, there was a brutal whooshing sound. Mishca’s blade, brandished by the last remaining demon, sliced through the air. A sick sound, muffled and wet, followed by a thud. The angel’s head hit the concrete, eyes open and mouth frozen in a silent scream.
As Karak finished dragging me up the steps, I choked back a mouthful of vomit, knowing that moment would stay with me for the rest of my life.
However long that might be.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jax
An hour. Sixty f*cking minutes. That’s how long we’d sat there, just staring at each other. “My patience is officially gone,” I growled, finally standing. “If there’s something you need me to do, get on with it then take me to Malphi.”
Ranook opened its mouth, then closed it. A disturbing grin followed. It cocked its head, seemingly listening to something. I focused and heard it too. A car door in the driveway.
“The wait is over,” the demon said, standing. Four strides and it was at the door. A second later, the entryway burst open.
There was a commotion followed by a small form stumbling over the threshold. Sam. Two other demons followed, forcing her inside and to the floor at my feet. The sight of her, helpless on the floor and in such a submissive position caused my demon to bristle with excitement. I felt it, an exhilarating awareness of the power just within its grasp. While it turned my stomach, I had no choice other than to go with it. “Kneel in our lord’s presence!”
The scent of blood filled the air. Hers. Nothing fatal. The wounds were superficial. But someone had hurt her. Caused her pain. A part of me knew I should be enraged. That I should be swinging blindly at anything that moved in an attempt to make them all pay. But I wasn’t. I didn’t. The rage was there, bubbling and potent and barely contained, but my breathing was even. My pulse in check.
“Samantha Merrick,” I said, dropping down so that we were eye to eye. Moving felt strange. It was me, yet it wasn’t. I was in control, and yet I was helpless. Both the marionette and the puppeteer at the same time.
To prove to myself that I would be able to do what needed to be done, I stood. Making a fist, I punched outward, clocking the nearest demon—a tall, blond f*cker with beady eyes and a crooked nose. He went down hard, surprised, as I rounded on the second. A single blow to the center of his neck sent him sprawling back, choking for air.
That’s how it all went in my mind. In reality, I hadn’t touched a soul. I was still kneeling in front of Sam, watching her with concern and unparalleled hunger.
“They have done you harm.” My voice was cold. Clinical. My arms reached for her. Even though it wasn’t me—she had to know that—when she cringed away, it stung. Azi was unaffected, though. It pushed forward, slipping my arms beneath her legs and behind her head, lifting her from the floor. “Do not worry. We will make them pay,” it said, laying her on the couch.