The Unlikeable Demon Hunter (Nava Katz #1)(77)

Being headless didn’t deter the demon. The sakacha swiveled his head, now laying sideways on the ground, to watch the fight, turning his body accordingly in order to take Baruch on, like a remote control.

Rohan grabbed my arm.

My neck jolted sideways as he pulled me along. The reverberations of other thunks of wood followed us as we sped through the building, each hit managing to make the floor tremble no matter how far away we got.

I threw a worried glance over my shoulder as we ran, praying Baruch was all right.

“He’s fine,” Rohan said, as if I’d spoken, because he was a freak that way. “The kill spot is a knot in the center of the lower segment. Baruch has to take him apart to get to it.”

“With his bare hands?”

A finger traced down my back. I swung around throwing a voltage-heavy right hook that would have made Baruch proud. But there was no one there. Though I swear I heard a laugh. If that had been Drio with some sick joke, I’d kill him.

I’d never been big on running, but I experienced a sudden deep love for flat-out sprinting. I vaulted down some stairs and skidded to a stop next to Rohan, my chest heaving. Oh. Whatever had touched me before hadn’t been Drio. He was otherwise occupied.

Pillars dotted the large room in which we stood. The light coming through the warped window at one end threw slithery shadows that danced along the floor, turning Drio’s battle with the half-dozen sakacha demons present into an eerie ballet.

Kane was nowhere to be seen. I crossed my fingers that he was searching for Ari.

Drio used his flash stepping to dance and weave through their number, disappearing from beside one only to appear next to another. In the seconds it took for that sakacha to realize Drio was there, he’d used this small axe blade to slice a piece off it.

Where’d he been storing that thing?

Giant sakacha slivers flew to a soundtrack of axe whistling and wood scraping against the floor. Drio was doing an impressive job holding his own but he was still outnumbered and slicing them apart to get to their knots required time we didn’t have.

Rohan pointed to a pillar. “Stay over there. You’ll be safe.”

I planted my hands on my hips. “Excuse me, Tarzan?”

“We’ll find your brother faster if I don’t have to worry about you. Don’t underestimate these demons.”

“What exactly are you going to do against those wood monsters? Carve your initials in them until they beg for mercy?” I pushed Rohan back with a sweeping arm. “Stand back.” I struck the nearest demon with a bolt to his middle and like all dry wood, he burst into flame. His pee-wee arm sizzled away, sending his right pincer clattering to the ground.

My smug triumph lasted about ten seconds.

With a grinding noise, the sakacha demon transformed from wood to stone, dousing the flames and making his skin impenetrable.

Houston, we have a problem.





21





“Um…”

“Stone,” Rohan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How they react to external threat.”

“Like Drio’s ax is party time for them?”

“It’s iron. It renders them incapable of–” He jabbed a finger at the demon. “That.”

Talk about stone-cold killer. Drio’s ax now did nothing on the demon, who had, in his rage, seized Drio by the shoulder with his remaining pincer, grinding his long claws into Drio’s flesh.

I flinched at the loud snap of Drio’s shoulder breaking.

The blood drained from his face and he grit his teeth so hard that the tendons in his neck stood out in sharp relief. His agony must have been incredible but the freak didn’t cry out. Using his good hand, Drio awkwardly attempted to jam the axe blade between his skin and the demon’s pincer. Like a lever, using it to try and pry the pincers open.

The remaining sakacha converged on them but Rohan jumped into their midst, a human Ginsu knife of slicing and dicing.

Right, his blades were iron.

Three of the demons skittered back out of reach, but one suicidal fucker charged Rohan, the full force of his bulk nailing the Rasha in the small of his back. The jolt should have sent Rohan stumbling forward but the demon caught him by the scruff of his neck with a pincer.

A sly, satisfied smirk spread over the sakacha’s face.

I wanted to help but I was scared I’d make things worse. How could I free Rohan if I couldn’t use my power?

Didn’t matter. Rohan freed himself by jerking away so hard that a chunk of flesh remained in the demon’s grasp. Blood streamed down his back. My stomach heaved at the strong coppery stench filling the room.

Drio had yet to unseat his sakacha. One arm hung uselessly at the Rasha’s side while the other couldn’t get a proper angle to loosen the pincer from his broken shoulder. The demon wormed his claw into Drio’s shoulder with an expression of sadistic glee.

A sheen of sweat dotted Drio’s face and given his wavery movements, he hovered on the edge of consciousness. Of all the people on Team Rasha, you’d think I’d be most okay with losing him, but I didn’t want him to die because I’d messed up.

Thankfully, at that moment, Baruch charged through the door and ripped the entire pincer arm off of the demon torturing Drio. The pincer itself went slack and fell off. Drio’s arm hung at a nauseating angle from his broken shoulder, blood flowing from the gauges that the pincer had made. He ignored it to go help Rohan.