City of Thorns (The Demon Queen Trials #1)(37)

In high school, I’d run track and cross country. I’d even made it to nationals. This felt a lot like the start of those meets, burning with adrenaline, waiting for the gun to go off…except in this race, I could end up battered to death by an angry mob of demons, so the stakes were just a tad higher than coming in second.

I watched the countdown on my watch for a few seconds, then pulled out my first weapon—the Super Soaker.

When the klaxon sounded, I started to run.

Unlike my high school track meets, I was carrying about ten pounds of weight, encased in a metallic suit, and wearing goggles. I was already sweating into the suit, so speed wasn’t on my side tonight. As I ran, I breathed in the musky, acrid scent of fox pee, and my eyes watered.

With my night vision goggles, I scanned the trees for signs of movement. I ran for about ten minutes, sucking in breath sharply, without seeing a single demon. I thought I’d probably made it a mile and a half.

Only fifty minutes to go.

When my foot loudly snapped a twig, it occurred to me for the first time that speed might not be the most important thing. If they couldn’t see me easily or smell me, they’d be relying on sound. That twig breaking the silence might as well have been a cannon going off.

I froze, scanning the woods around me and catching my breath.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw a demon moving toward me. Unlike me, he moved with shocking speed, his body like wind through the trees. But he was still some distance away.

Before he could get to me, I used the Super Soaker to spray gasoline on the ground between us. I created a wide arc, at least twelve feet, then dropped the gun and snatched the deodorant from my tool belt. I’d superglued a lighter to the can using a plastic binder clip, so it stuck out at just the right angle to form a blowtorch. The lighter itself had a rubber band around it to hold the flame when it was depressed.

My body shook as I flicked the lighter and the flame sprang to life. Then I pressed the top of the deodorant. Four feet of flames shot out into the air, and I lunged forward, angling the fire toward the gasoline. The reaction was instant—an enormous wall of fire surrounding me.

Now the demon was just on the other side of the flames—and by his luscious curls and ivory horns, I recognized him as a duke. The blood-guzzling gluttony demon bellowed in rage, and the sound slid through my bones. It wasn’t just the sound itself that sparked my fear—he’d just alerted the entire demon army to my location.

I snatched the Super Soaker from the ground and sprayed through the flames toward the demon. The fire spread in his direction, and he backed away, staring at the flames and roaring.

I pivoted and broke into a run before more of them could find me. I had to put as much distance as possible between the bellowing demon and me.

I usually ran five days a week, often six to seven miles, maybe up to ten, and even with my backpack on, the adrenaline was giving me extra strength. I pumped my arms hard, running faster through the trees than I’d been moving before. But when I stole a glance behind me, I saw movement in the distance. A demon was closing in on me. No—not just a demon. With my goggles, I saw two…three…six?

Fuck. They were all over, and I still had a mile to get to the river.

New tactic.

My hands were shaking as I pulled off the night vision goggles, and I felt blind without them. Vulnerable. But for what I needed to do next, I couldn’t have them on.

I unzipped my backpack and found the gas mask. When I slid it on over my face, my sense of vulnerability only increased. I pulled the hood over my head and tightened it as quickly as I could, and the eyepieces fogged a little.

Just like I’d done when I was mixing chemicals earlier, I had to test the filter first. I covered it, checking to make sure no air was escaping into the mask from other gaps. With the filter covered, I couldn’t breathe at all, which was both terrifying and what I wanted.

Now I was ready.

I knelt down again and reached into the backpack for my glass jars. I started hurling them at the tree trunks, one by one. Within moments, the demons were coughing, then screaming.

I couldn’t see very well through the darkness and the goggles, but I didn’t think they were moving any closer to me.

I had no idea if demons were rushing at me from the north, but I hurled another jar in that direction, just in case, until I was surrounded by a cloud of homemade mustard gas on all sides.

Right now, the bleach and ammonia mix would be searing their lungs, stealing their breath, and burning and blistering their skin and eyes.

Was this prohibited by the Geneva Convention? Okay, technically yes, but those laws had been written for mortals. The demons would recover, even if the next twenty minutes would be deeply unpleasant.

I grabbed my backpack and started moving again.

With the gas mask on, I couldn’t run anymore. For one thing, I could no longer see where I was going, and for another, it was incredibly hard to breathe in that thing. I could only hope the mustard gas took out any demons around me.

I checked the watch, making sure I was still heading north.

Twenty-one minutes. I only had to survive twenty-one more minutes, and I’d be free. Holy shit, this was actually working.

When I thought I’d cleared enough distance from the mustard gas, I pulled off my gloves and took a little breath, testing the air. My skin wasn’t burning, and my lungs felt fine. I pulled the gloves back on and tried loosening my gas mask. Lungs seemed okay…