Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex: Demonized #1)(40)

“Zylas,” I said shrilly, “you can’t kill her!”

“It will be easy.”

“I mean you shouldn’t kill her! She’s—she’s my cousin. My family.” I tightened my hold on his arm, knowing it wouldn’t stop him. “I need her help to survive this.”

Tail lashing in annoyance, he relaxed his hands. His claws retracted.

Amalia stared at us without blinking. “You said you weren’t a summoner and I believed you. I believed you!” Anger burned through her shock and she pushed to her feet, speaking right over my weak protest. “You did come to steal Dad’s demon names, didn’t you? You wanted the glory of a new lineage for—”

She broke off, her eyes widening in sudden realization.

“No way!” she burst out furiously, pointing at Zylas. “That’s Dad’s demon, isn’t it? That’s the hidden one from the library!”

“Wait, Amalia,” I pleaded. “You don’t understand—”

“How did you even—no, I don’t want to know.” She shoved away from the wall. “Your ‘sweet, na?ve girl’ act is good, Robin, but you should’ve put more effort into your summoning apprenticeship instead. That demon is going to kill you.”

“Amalia—”

“Forget it, Robin.” Venom coated her voice. “I’m done. I never should’ve believed you.”

Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she took a step toward the street, realized she’d have to pass Zylas, then spun and marched deeper into the alley. I watched her go, my heart racing faster and faster.

Zylas pulled his arm from my weak hold. “Now should I kill her?”

“No,” I gasped. “Don’t—don’t touch her. She—she’s—she’s my—”

I broke off, panting desperately, and wrapped my arms around myself. Panic built in my head. I couldn’t take a proper breath.

I was alone in a reeking alley in the middle of the night. I didn’t know where I was. I had nowhere to go. Amalia had left and I was all alone. What was I supposed to do? All I had was my suitcase, cellphone, and a demon who wanted to kill everyone nearby.

Tears streamed down my face and I sank into a crouch, holding myself and fighting to breathe. I couldn’t do this alone. I needed help—but there was no one. Amalia had left. My parents had died. Any other mythic I turned to would report me to the MPD—assuming Zylas didn’t kill them first. I couldn’t go near anyone, not with Zylas. Anyone I exposed him to would be in danger.

A shadow blocked the streetlight. Zylas crouched beside me. “What are you doing?”

I shook my head, gasping and crying and losing my mind with panic.

He prodded my shoulder. I tried to pull myself together, but I was caught in a spiral that was dragging me deeper and deeper. Every time I fought its pull, the realization that I was alone and had nowhere to go or anyone to help hit me all over again.

“Payilas,” Zylas growled. “Stop it.”

I hunched inward and pressed my face against my knees, hiding from him.

He pulled on my shirt to make me sit up. I lost my balance and fell on my butt, then curled into an even tighter ball. I couldn’t breathe right. The ground was rolling and tilting.

“What are you doing?” he snarled. “Stop it!”

“I—I can’t! Leave me alone!”

He sprang to his feet and whirled, the barbed end of his tail just missing my face. He paced away from me, glanced back with his teeth bared and eyes blazing, then disappeared into the alley’s dark depths.

Now I was completely alone. The maelstrom of panic spiraled deeper, my pulse racing and heart heaving in my chest. If only getting rid of the demon were as easy as sending him away, but he was bound to the infernus. Just like me. I was an illegal contractor bound to a demon I couldn’t control.

Mom, what should I do?

My heart broke all over again, and I wept into my knees. Minutes crawled by, and my sobs weakened until I was sniffling pathetically, my cheek resting on my knee. I stared blearily into the darkness where Zylas had vanished.

A black shape appeared among the shadows, drawing closer. Two points of crimson glowed—demonic eyes.

Zylas stalked down the alley, irritation radiating off him with each gliding step. And under his arm …

Amalia hung from his arm like an oversized sack, her hands scrabbling vainly at his wrist. Her hair was a wild tangle, her face pasty white beneath her makeup.

Zylas swept over to me and tossed Amalia onto the ground. She hit the pavement in her third painful impact of the evening, a gasping whimper rushing from her throat. She shoved onto her hands and knees—and Zylas stepped on her back, flattening her. Her sharp cry echoed off the alley walls.

Leaning his weight on her, he grabbed her hair at the scalp and bent her head back to look into her terrified face.

“Listening, hh’ainun?” he snarled. “The payilas wants your help, so you will help her. If you don’t, I will take you apart piece by piece by little piece. Sounds fun, na? Or would you rather help her?”

Amalia’s mouth moved but no sound came out.

He pulled harder on her hair. “Answer or I will decide for you.”

“Zylas!” I shrieked, breaking my horrified silence. “Let her go!”