Taming Demons for Beginners (The Guild Codex: Demonized #1)(55)

I shoved onto my knees and touched his arm. His skin was cold. “Zylas?”

Sprawled on his back, he squinted at me. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and his eyes had gone dark as night. The rest of him was a gory mess that my brain denied was real. A horror movie prop, not a hideously wounded living being.

“Are you safe here?” he rasped.

I dragged my horrified stare off him and looked around. Cars zipped along the street at the top of the knoll and distant pedestrians ambled along the wet sidewalks with umbrellas.

“Yes, I think so.”

He let out a pained breath. Red light sparked over his limbs—and his arm disappeared from beneath my hand. His body dissolved into crimson radiance that swept into the infernus. Suddenly alone, I crouched beside a patch of dark blood on the grass, my hands hovering over a demon that was no longer there. All my limbs went weak and I slumped forward, trembling violently.

So stupid. I’d been so stupid.

I wanted to close my eyes, but I couldn’t stop staring at the blood-drenched grass. Zylas was badly wounded. Fatally wounded, if he’d been human. I wasn’t sure what a demon could survive. He had amazing healing magic … if he could use it. Could he heal himself? Or was it too late? The last time I’d seen his eyes dark like that, he’d been near death.

Fresh panic swept through me. I sprang to my feet and sprinted up the slope.

Zylas was dying. He needed help and I was the only one who could keep him alive—if I was fast enough.





I bounced impatiently on the balls of my feet as the cab driver held out my credit card and receipt. I snatched them from his hand and ran into the motel parking lot, not caring what he thought. With dirt and splattered stains—Zylas’s dark blood—all over me, I already looked like a freak.

It had taken me fifteen minutes to hail a cab, get a ride back to the motel, and pay. Had too much time passed? Was it already too late? I hadn’t seen any other options.

I fumbled in my coat pocket for the key card to my and Amalia’s room, jammed it through the lock, and shoved the door open. The drab room was dark and empty, the two beds unmade, our bags open against the wall, and the TV Zylas had dismantled shoved in a corner.

Kicking the door shut behind me, I ran into the bathroom and turned the shower on full blast. Icy water sprayed into the tub. The infernus chain tangled under my jacket when I tried to pull it out, so I unzipped my coat and threw it aside. Clutching the metal disc, I stuck my arm under the water. Warm. Getting hotter.

“Zylas.” I spoke and thought the words as intensely as possible. “Come out. I have something to help you.”

Nothing happened. No. I couldn’t be too late.

I kicked my shoes off, set my phone on the counter, and stepped into the tub. Scalding water soaked my socks. Flinching, I held the infernus under the spray. “Zylas, come out, please!”

Hot water flowed across the metal—and a red glow suffused it. Instead of leaping energetically toward the floor, the magic spilled straight down. Zylas took form almost on my toes, his back to me as he faced the showerhead. The water ran red with blood.

His legs buckled.

I grabbed his shoulders but his weight dragged me down too. I thumped onto my butt, the demon half in my lap, his head against my shoulder and his back between my legs. Water cascaded over his torso, blood running everywhere. Steam rose from the spray and wherever the blood-stained liquid touched me, it burned.

With effort, I propped him up to get his face out of the water. “Zylas?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched but he didn’t open his eyes. “It is hot.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He lay limply as the water washed over him. My gaze darted across his torso, trying to assess the severity of his injuries, but I couldn’t begin to guess. Five punctures straight through his abdomen, four deep tears in his upper arm, and shallow slices across his chest, nearly cutting through the leather straps of his armor. And who knew how much internal damage from impacts? A terrifying amount of blood was swirling down the drain.

“Zylas …” I swallowed against the catch in my throat. “Will you survive?”

“You will not be rid of me this easily,” he growled.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you.” A sob built in my chest, fueled by guilt and furious regret. “I’m so sorry.”

He watched me through half-lidded eyes the color of cooling coals. “Sorry?”

“I thought you could beat him. I thought it would be easy for you. If I’d realized … I never would’ve tried to get you to fight him.”

“Easy?” His mouth contorted with disgust. “You are zh’ūltis. Can you not see?”

“See what?”

He twitched his hand to indicate his body. “Why would you think I am stronger?”

“But … but you said …”

He pulled himself upright and leaned against the shower wall, one leg hooked over the tub’s edge. Resting his head against the tiles, he fixed a cold, indecipherable stare on me. “Tahēsh is Dīnen of the First House. I am Dīnen of the Twelfth House. I am the weakest of them all.”

My throat closed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized you had no chance against Tahēsh.”

“No chance? Insulting me more, payilas.” A hint of crimson glowed in his dark eyes. “I can kill anything. Any of them. I did not become Dīnen by losing. I survive because I never lose.”