Page 84 of The Devil's Trials

“Bloody hell, you feel that?”

The fear. It floods the bar like a tsunami. Together with the bone-chilling screams of terror, it’s a demon’s playground.

Blake and I enter the bar, and in seconds, chaos erupts around us. Glass shatters and wooden furniture is destroyed. My first thought is hunters, but my stomach plummets a moment later when I realize it’s not members of the wretched organization.

We’re being attacked by demons.

The sharp scent of blood permeates the air, mixed with sweat as humans attempt to flee in any direction, knocking over furniture and people in their path.

Blake jumps into action without hesitation, grabbing a low-level demon off a human and snapping its neck in a brutal maneuver. I scan the room, my blood running cold as I come to the stark realization that these demons aren’t attacking to feed—this is a massacre.

Human bodies and demon ashes, litter the floor and booths. Most are dead or very close to it, their skin so pale it appears gray and their clothes tattered and bloodied.

I stalk toward a group of demons converging on the bartender, who’s attempting to stand her ground behind the bar with a knife in her grip. Her eyes are wild with fear and determination, her pulse pounding erratically as her hand shakes.

I whistle sharply to get their attention, and the three dark-haired demons whirl around and snarl at me, their mouths full of razor-sharp fangs and their eyes completely black. There’s not an ounce of humanity in these creatures. They’re here to slaughter—butwhy?

The one closest to me lunges forward, clawed fingernails swiping at my face. I bat him away with a brutal backhand, and he growls in pain, spitting black blood onto the wood floor. Blake’s going to have a time getting the place clean after this.

Before the demon can get up, I slam my boot into his windpipe, crushing it with ease. Those black orbs widen as he gasps for breath he’ll never get to take. I haul him upright and snap his neck, then shove him toward his cohorts.

My temples throb with pressure, and the constant screaming as people attempt to flee and end up fighting for their lives isn’t helping. Taking inventory of the demons still standing, it’s immediately clear how severely outnumbered we are.

I bite back a snarl, shooting forward to grab the other two demons before they can reach the bartender. “Unless you’d like to end up like your friend, get the fuck out of here.” I don’t relish killing my own kind but I won’t stand for this senseless brutality.

The older of the two spits in my face, and I see red. Rage whips through me like a tidal wave, and I lose control of myself in an instant. I meet his gaze as I slam my fist through his chest, wrapping my hand around his warm, beating heart.

And then I rip it out of his chest.

He gasps and gargles for a few seconds as he collapses, then goes completely still.

I hold his heart in my palm, watching it twitch as my lips curl into a cruel smile, and I offer it to the other, slack-jawed demon. “Hungry?”

His face pales, and he sputters out, “N-no.”

I shrug. “Too bad.” Moving too fast for him to escape, I shove his friend’s heart against his lips, forcing the organ into the demon’s mouth even as he thrashes, attempting to get away.

I vaguely notice the bartender bent over, vomiting into the sink. With a sigh, I drop the mangled heart and snap the other demon’s neck, wiping my hands on my pants.

“On your left, mate,” Blake shouts over the noise. Though, it’s quieted significantly, considering most of the patrons are dead. Music still plays over the sound of ragged breaths and unsteady heartbeats, but the sense of a battle ending seeps into the room—and we mostly definitely didn’t win this one.

I turn just in time to be on the receiving end of a sucker punch to my jaw. I snarl at the female demon with ice-blond hair and sharp cheekbones. She has otherwise normal features, so she’s a higher pedigree than most of the low level demons we—Blake mostly—have taken on here.

“Traitor,” she snaps, rearing back for another attack.

“Lovely to meet you too,” I bark, snatching her fist before it can meet its mark. I hold it in a grip that would crush a human’s, and she grits her teeth. “Care to explain who’s responsible for this attack?”

Despite the discomfort in her features, a smugness fills her gaze as her deep red lips curl into a cold smirk. “He will never allow you to ascend the throne.”

My brows lift, and I cut a glance over to Blake. The demons he was facing off with have stopped trying to fight. The ones left standing converge on where I’m standing near the bar, and Blake is at my side in a blur of movement.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Blake demands, his jaw sharp enough to cut glass.

“Xander Kane is a traitor to our kind,” one of the males shouts in a deep, jagged voice. He has smears of black blood across his face, dripping from his lip and a cut above his eye, courtesy of Blake. “He committed an act of treason that will not be ignored.”

Ah, so these must be what’s left of Lucia’s fan club. Excellent.

“The royal guard—” Blake starts.

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