Page 116 of Soulbound
"And there are things I can do to your wife that have nothing to do with hurting her."
"Don't react," Cleo babbled in his mind. "It wants you to react."
There were hands pawing at him, leaving his skin feeling oily, stained, dirty.... "No." Sebastian shook his head, unable to bear it as the razor parted the silk covering her breast. Only her corset remained, thin protection against the world. Cleo trembled, and he felt it within. "If you fucking touch her...."
Not her. He could bear the pain, but he never wanted her to know what the world was truly like.
"How are you going to stop me?" The demon laughed.
He couldn't attack it, not with Cleo in its arms.
He couldn't defeat it with his sorcery, for demons were creatures of pure magic....
Only one card left to play. Sebastian stared into the demon's eyes, trying to find any trace of the man he barely knew. "If you're in there, then you need to fight it now. I need you."
And he threw himself forward, capturing the demon's wrist and slamming the pair of them into the wall. Tendons strained in Drake's arm, and Sebastian forced the razor away from Cleo.
A hand locked around his throat, squeezing with inhuman force, but it wasn't the first time he'd been breathless. He remembered a belt around his throat, choking him as Lady Beaumont kissed her way down his torso. He slammed the bastard's hand back into the wall, trying to force him to drop the razor. Couldn't breathe. His face tightened, blood pounding in his ears. All he had to do was hold on just a little longer.
"Sebastian, let him go!"
He danced back, just as Cleo hurled something at the demon. A mage globe of white, barely a threat, and yet it was enough to distract the demon. The demon brushed it aside contemptuously, and white light splashed up the walls as it exploded.
Then it was slashing with economic grace, and Sebastian had to duck and weave, slamming a fist into its ribs as he went.... A punch strong enough to fell a mortal man, but the demon barely flinched. Did it not feel the blow?
Pain was an old friend as the razor kissed his cheek, splattering blood across the walls....
Sebastian clapped a hand to his cheek, yanking Cleo out of its grasp, and summoning all his power to bear. Energy thrummed through his veins, but the demon paused, hunching over, choking a little....
"What's it doing?" Cleo cried.
The demon's face rippled, and it snarled at him. The darkness drained out of its eyes, replaced by pure silver.
It went to its knees, one hand splayed over the marble floor tiles and its entire body shaking until... a man knelt there, slumping as if he'd fought a mighty battle.
"Run," Drake rasped at him. "I can't... hold it for long."
His father. Sebastian's heart leaped into his throat, guilt searing his nerves.
"Drake!" Cleo gasped as she staggered free, sliding to her knees beside the duke and trying to help him up.
Color mottled Drake's face as if he were still choking. "Not much time." He pushed her away from him, and looked toward Sebastian. "Eleanor?"
He couldn't take another step forward. His father. His father. They'd spoken only a handful of times, but this man had set him on a path toward freedom, toward Cleo. And he couldn't even answer him.
"She's fine," Cleo said, squeezing Drake's hand. "Ianthe's had her healers in to see to her, and she's almost as good as new."
"You don't have... much time." Saliva dripped from Drake's mouth. He hunched in upon himself. "It's setting everything... into motion."
"When?" Cleo demanded.
"Tomorrow." Drake shuddered. "It needs the full... moon."
"What for? What is it planning?"
Drake looked up. "It wants to tear a hole in the Veil between worlds. It wants to bring forth... its brethren."
Demons. Imps. All the monsters and beasts within the Shadow Dimensions. This was how London would be destroyed, and all Cleo's Visions had him at the center of it. The cause of it.
