Ruined (The Eternal Balance #1)(25)

But no matter how much they deserved what they got, or how the darkest parts of me enjoyed it, in the end a part of me died each time. The thought of having to up the numbers made me sick.

Fingers itching to feel the monster’s bones break, I slipped through the bathroom door. The satisfying snap, crackle, and pop as things were crushed was always music to my ears, and would calm my nerves.

Directly across from the entrance, cloaked in a haze of orange and yellow and wobbling at the urinal, was my prey. I locked the door behind me, and probably should have checked to make sure we were alone, but the sight of the thing sent the demon into a frenzy, which only aggravated my own hatred. It had tried to hurt Sam.

I stalked forward and grabbed a handful of the demon’s hair. The bastard flinched, surprised, as I ripped it away from the dirty porcelain and heaved its body across to the other side of the room. A feral sound, followed by a spike of potent, sweet-smelling crimson smoke. The enemy crashed into the row of sinks on the other side of the room, ripping one off the wall on the way to the floor.

It took an enormous amount of self-restraint—on my part and the demon’s—but I waited for it to pick itself up before striking again. I wanted a fight. I needed a challenge. Destroying the f*cker while he was down would offer neither.

“You,” the demon snarled, as it climbed to its feet. The thing spit a mouthful of blood and wiped the tip of its chin with the back of its hand. Crimson puffs rose in the air, and sent the thing inside me into a crazed fit. “I saw you go over the cliff with that bitch.”

“Guess you saw wrong.”

“Guess so.” With a dark chuckle, it grabbed the porcelain sink from the floor and heaved it at my head. I jumped to the left and then ducked fast to avoid the shattered pieces that rocketed through the small room like miniature bullets, then lunged forward and slammed my opponent’s head into the mirror. The glass shattered. Tiny pieces coated in blood fell to the floor with soft plinking sounds and scattered across the room to mingle with the broken porcelain.

From the first time I’d done something horrible to appease the demon, I imagined a switch in my head. I told myself that when hungry enough, the demon simply flipped it, turning me into a darker, crueler version of myself. Someone who caused others pain to end his own. Someone who had absolutely no control. That switch flipped, but this time, it was me who did it. I was in total control.

It teetered back and caught itself on the edge of the remaining sink, hesitating for only a moment before whipping out a blade and brandishing it with a wicked smile.

I hadn’t dealt with a lot of demons, and before coming back to Harlow, hadn’t tangled with any, but a knife? What the f*ck was that all about?

It lunged for me. I pivoted, dodging the blade, and brought my elbow down in an attempt to ground my opponent. The other demon danced away with time to spare and brought the blade down across my forearm in a long, clean slice. I didn’t feel it. It could have been adrenaline, or maybe because my demon lingered close to the surface, but it must have been deep. There was nothing for a moment, then a sea of red flowed freely.

Normally the sight of a wound excited the thing inside, but for some reason, this time the injury enraged it. It flashed an image of Sam’s face, then another, as she fell from the cliff. The terror that hit me in those last moments rushed back and ducking another blow, I grabbed the bastard’s forearm and twisted until it was on its knees.

Gritting my teeth against the urge to snap its neck, I growled, “Was it you that attacked her at Huntington? Why?”

No answer.

My grip tightened. “Did you follow her here?”

This time the demon snarled, shaking its head violently from side to side.

Another flash of pictures through my head, these backdropped by fire and black smoke. On the ground were bodies. Hundreds of bodies. Broken bones and twisted limbs. And blood… More blood than I’d ever seen before. Since coming back to town, the images the demon showed me had become more violent, but this was the worst yet. I couldn’t place the scene, but it was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed. A charred landscape with white, fiery clouds overhead. “Did you?” I yelled, shaking off the vision.

Another twist of his arm. A loud snap. A howl of pain. Closing its eyes, the other demon relented. “Tonight was the first night I laid eyes on the human.”

“So someone told you to come to the club tonight?” I asked, leaning close to his ear. “Who was it? Human or demon?”

The demon didn’t answer the question. Instead, it pulled its lips back and snarled.

“If you’re not the one who wants her dead, then tell me who is.” Another twist. Another crack. “Someone told you to do it. Who?”

“Kill me,” it spat. “I will not betray my kind.”

I laughed. No? We’d just see about that. Grabbing its right hand, I wrapped my fingers around the demon’s thumb and yanked back hard. The sounds it made—blissfully cracking bone and an otherworldly scream—was like a serenade to my ears. Thick gray smoke rose from its shoulders, filling the room. My demon sucked in the fear greedily, causing the pain to ebb and giving me a renewed sense of energy.

“Release me!” it bellowed as I bent back another finger. Thank God for the music outside. The last thing I needed was someone calling the police.

“Care to try again?”

“I am a soldier. You cannot break me.”