“I will if you—” Jolting in surprise, he dragged me to a halt beside him.
Two dozen yards down the sloping sidewalk, a streetlamp dimly lit the Grand Grimoire’s green awning, and standing in front of the door was Burly—or rather, Todd, the guild member who’d greeted me and Amalia. He stared at me and Zylas, his mouth gaping in silent horror. He’d seen Zylas talking—something a contracted demon couldn’t do. He’d seen me trying in vain to push Zylas’s hand off my head—further damning evidence that I couldn’t control him. I opened my mouth but my brain had ground to a standstill. This was exactly what we’d needed to prevent. This was the worst-case scenario. My secret was out. The MPD would brand me a rogue and bounty hunters would kill me. Todd’s shock broke before mine. He whipped his infernus out of his jacket and red light blazed over it. His demon appeared in a swirl of crimson, towering seven and a half feet tall. Zylas leaped forward. I watched him dash down the slope, silent and lethal. Todd’s spiky demon swung its huge fist. Zylas ducked the lethargic blow and sprang past the demon. His fingers were curled, red magic streaking down his hands to form six-inch talons. He didn’t turn on the spiky demon’s back. He kept going. And I realized his intention. “No!” My shriek echoed through the silent night—but it was too late. A rasping tear. The splatter of liquid hitting the ground. The thud of a falling body. Todd’s demon, frozen in mid-swing, straightened. The blankness in its face melted away, and a mixture of rage and triumph twisted its bestial features. It turned around, the shift of its huge body revealing what lay behind it. Zylas stood beside Todd, his crimson talons dripping. The man lay prone, blood spreading under him and trickling down the sloping concrete. “Gh’athirilnā nul thē,” the spiky demon rumbled. Zylas sneered at his kin. “Ait eshilthē adahk Ivaknen īn idintav et Vh’alyir.” Crimson magic bloomed across the spiky demon. Its form dissolved into a cloud of light that shot at Todd. Glowing power hit his body, illuminating it from within like a scarlet light bulb. Then the radiance faded and the demon was gone. The Banishment Clause, I realized numbly. Todd’s death had freed the demon from its contract. It had possessed him, taken his soul, and escaped back to its world. Todd’s death. Todd was dead. Zylas had killed him. I stumbled forward on weak legs. Zylas watched me approach, his eyes wary. Stopping a few feet from the body, I stared at the rivulets of blood running down the slanted sidewalk. “You killed him.” Zylas silently regarded me. “You killed him!” The words burst out, edged in hysteria. “He didn’t do anything wrong! He was scared and—and he was only—you killed him!” Zylas’s tail snapped side to side. “You said no one can know I am not enslaved. I am protecting you.” “No!” I grabbed the sides of my head, holding my skull together against the boiling panic and horror. “No, this is wrong! You killed an innocent man!” “You said—” “I didn’t say to kill people!” I shrieked. “Get back in the infernus! Right now!” He snarled at the command, then a crimson glow swept over him. The pendant buzzed against my chest as his essence filled it. Alone, I hugged myself and stared down at the dead man. An innocent man. He’d seen an out-of-control demon and called his own for protection. He’d been afraid. He’d been defending himself. He was dead now. Because of me. Because I couldn’t control Zylas. Tears ran down my cheeks. My fault. All my fault. Tahēsh had killed people and I felt horrible guilt over that already, but I’d had no idea Zylas could or would free the other demon. The blame wasn’t entirely mine. However, I’d known full well that Zylas was a risk to everyone around me. I’d known, and I’d ignored the danger. Now an innocent man was dead. Why had he even been here? So late at night? Standing outside? An electronic trill made me leap backward. The tune blared from Todd’s body. His wife, calling to ask when he’d be home? Friends he was supposed to meet, calling to find out why he was late? His champion, who was supposed to protect him while he commanded his demon, concerned about where he’d gone? My demon had murdered a guild member—on our guild’s literal doorstep. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d turned and bolted. I dashed up the street, cut west, and ran until I couldn’t breathe. Then I kept on running, fleeing Todd’s death and my own selfish decisions. I ran until my legs threatened to give out, then I walked. I walked and walked until I found myself at our motel room. With unsteady fingers, I dug out my key card and unlocked the door. Inside, our beds were unmade—we couldn’t let housekeeping in because Zylas had destroyed the TV—and our suitcases lay untouched. Amalia wasn’t in the room. I didn’t know where she’d gone and I didn’t care. I couldn’t face her right now. I stumbled to my bed and stopped. Carefully, as though it were a live bomb, I lifted the infernus off my neck, opened the nightstand’s drawer, and set it beside the standard motel Bible. I closed the drawer and toed off my shoes, then collapsed onto the mattress. Burying my face in the pillow, I cried silently, my voice muted by guilt, horror, and the petrifying dread of what awaited me in the morning.