Page 66 of The Demigod

The body was crumpled on the floor just past the stairs, the damage done to him unspeakable. I couldn’t help but think that the torture he’d endured was somehow worse than that created by the demons that had escaped through the Hellmouth.

But I forced my gaze away, seeking answers to the questions growing in my mind.

There was nothing to find, though.

Just the body.

Blood on the walls.

Flies.

I ran back up the steps, slamming my back against the brick of the home, breath coming in ragged, unsteady huffs.

My head spun.

My heart sank.

Where was he?

A sob bubbled up, and I had to press my lips together to keep it in.

Daemon was immortal.

Even if he was being hurt somewhere, he would survive. He’d already survived so much.

Or, I forced my mind to entertain—despite my heart cracking at the thought—if he had run off on me, I couldn’t let everything we’d already done—everythingI’ddone even before he came along—all be for nothing.

The gods had to be well and drugged by now.

The poppies were gone.

I hadoneshot at this.

Adrenaline surged, chasing away the tiredness in my muscles, in my bones.

I had to finish this.

With or without Daemon.

Sucking in a steadying breath, I stood up straight, shook the tension out of my shoulders, called my shadows, then moved back to the front door.

I listened for a moment, wanting to make sure there was no outrage, no accusations of drugging.

Instead, I heard nearly hysterical laughter.

Before, suddenly, the front door sprang open, and several of the girls I’d seen earlier came rushing out, eyes wild.

“What the fuck is wrong with them?” one of them asked.

“I don’t know,” another answered, all red hair and smudged eye makeup. “And I’m not sticking around to figure it out.”

Smart girl.

With that, they took off at a run.

Well, it seemed like the poppies were doing their job.

Steeling my nerves, I rushed inside. I didn’t waste time trying to see what the gods were doing.

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