Page 36 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
People dropped to the floor as they were freed, unconscious but alive. Slade stumbled, blood now flowing freely from his nose and eyes. The look of pure disbelief on his face was priceless.
"This isn't over," he snarled, but his voice was weak. His hand pressed against his bleeding thigh as he backed away. "You have no idea what's coming."
Before any of us could move, he threw something across the room, and a small fire flared to life. What the hell? I tore my eyes from the flames, and Slade was gone. Frustrated, I ran to grab a fire extinguisher near the stairs and extinguished the fire before it had the chance to spread. Burning the place down wasn’t Slade’s plan; that was just his distraction tactic so he could make an exit.
I dropped the extinguisher at the same time I ripped the mask off. My legs actually gave out beneath me, but Jasper caught me before I hit the floor. I did it, I finally fucking did it. I bested that son of a bitch in a way that he never saw coming. The fury and indignation on his face was something that was going to live in my head for the rest of my life. The small pang of frustration I felt that he’d still gotten away was easily overshadowed by the feeling of victory. I wasn’t going to be a victim anymore, and when he ultimately showed up next time—the stab wound wasn’t going to be enough to take him out, and I knew it—I’d know what I was capable of.
"That," I panted, "was definitely not in any of Asrael's training manuals."
Hunter pulled himself to his feet, grimacing as he cradled his injured arm. "Speaking of Asrael..." He looked at me seriously. "We need to talk."
That was going to have to wait because loving little furry paws suddenly braced my brain. "Incoming," I announced, preparing for the arrival of Snake. My familiar scampered along the railing above us, and the second he spotted—
"Oh gods," Hunter followed my gaze and fake groaned, laughing. Snake's ears twitched, having heard his voice. The sound that came out of his little mouth would've been alarming if it weren't for the fact that he was already dead. This was his happy sound, it just... resembled the unholy shriek that a dying creature would make. He ran full speed at the bannister, slidingdown the thing at record speed before he hit the bottom and flew, arms outstretched like a parachute, nailing Hunt right in the chest.
Hunter tried to cradle the undead rodent against his good shoulder, wincing as Snake scrambled excitedly up to perch on top of his head, little skeletal paws disappearing into Hunter's tight curls that had completely escaped their bun. The patch of exposed skull on Snake's head gleamed in the dim light as he chittered happily.
"Missed you too, buddy," Hunter murmured, reaching up to scratch under what was left of Snake's furry chin. "Still ugly as sin, I see."
Snake made another noise, his version of purring, while his tail twitched contentedly.
Jasper watched with an amused smile as Snake abandoned Hunter's head to scamper down his arm. The familiar paused to sniff at Hunter's broken limb, making a concerned clicking sound before looking at me accusingly, as if I should have already fixed it.
"I know, I know," I told Snake. "We'll get to that."
Snake gave what could only be described as a dismissive huff before leaping to my shoulder, his little claws digging into my shirt for purchase. I felt his consciousness brush against mine—a jumble of impressions rather than coherent thoughts. Concern for Hunter. Wariness about our situation. And underneath it all, a steady pulse of loyalty that made my chest ache with something like affection.
"Don't worry," I murmured to him, reaching up to stroke his patchy fur. "Hunter's tough, but you’re right. I should fix that arm.”
“Since when are you a healer?” he asked, raising a brow.
I shrugged. “Another newfound ability of mine. Here, hold my hands. I’ll have you fixed up in no time, and then we can go to the apartment.”
Hunter put his hands in mine, and I closed my eyes, focusing on his wounds. There were plenty. Bruised ribs, a broken arm, a head laceration, a broken nose, the list seemed to go on and on, but my power honed in on each injury with finesse and efficiency. The whole repair took less than a minute.
“Damn,” Hunter said, stretching out his arm in amazement. “We do have a lot to talk about.”
Snake chittered in response, calmer now that his beloved Hunter had been healed. His beady black eyes scanned the room. One of them was clouded over, giving him a permanently suspicious look that seemed oddly appropriate given our current circumstances.
Snake eventually leapt gracefully to the floor, scampering over to investigate the room with his usual thoroughness. I watched him go, struck by how such a small, odd creature had become such an important part of my life. Also, the fact that something dead could bring such vibrant energy wherever it went.
"He'll check the perimeter," I explained to Jasper, who was watching him with curiosity and amusement. "Old habit. He doesn't like surprises."
"Smart," Jasper nodded, watching Snake investigate a couple of the still unconscious puppets before disappearing behind a black leather couch. "Very... thorough."
The exhaustion hit now that Hunter was healed and the direct threat of Slade was neutralized. I sagged against Jasper with a sigh. I wasn’t going to get to rest. I was going to have to have a real hard discussion with Hunter about everything I’d learned about our mentor.
Around us, the previously mind-controlled people started to stir, their confused murmurs filling the destroyed club.
"What... where am I?" A woman in a business suit blinked rapidly, her hand pressed to her temple. The green sheen had faded from her eyes, leaving only fear and disorientation in its wake.
"Oh god," another voice called out. "This is The Exiled's club. We're in Haunt!"
That declaration sent a ripple of panic through the crowd. I watched as recognition dawned on their faces. They weren't just in any part of the city—they were in the heart of gang territory—the very place upstanding citizens avoided like the plague.
"We need to get out of here!" someone shouted, and that was all it took. The crowd surged toward the exits, their earlier synchronized movements replaced by chaos and desperation. They stumbled over broken furniture and shattered glass, pushing past each other in their haste to escape.
"Should we stop them?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. These people had been through enough tonight. Jasper's arm wrapped around my waist, and he shook his head no.
