Page 55 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
I couldn't help but laugh, the sound being carried away by the wind. "Welcome to my world, darling. It's been a long time since I've been on the back of a dragon, but it's not something you forget."
Malik banked sharply, dodging a sudden updraft of hot air from a nearby magma pool. Palmer gripped his scales more tightly, her knuckles white with effort. I held onto her, anchoring her as best I could.
"Almost there," Malik called back to us, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through his body.
The palace loomed ahead, its obsidian spires reaching up like claws against the blood-red sky. The sound of battle grew louder, the clash of steel and roar of flames a grim symphony that sent a shiver down my spine.
Malik descended rapidly, his wings tucked close to his body as we plummeted toward the courtyard. At the last moment, he pulled up, landing with a bone-jarring thud that sent dust and debris flying in all directions.
Palmer and I slid off his back, our feet hitting the ground with a jolt. I steadied her, my hands lingering on her shoulders as I surveyed the chaotic scene before us.
The courtyard was a battlefield, filled with writhing bodies and the clash of weapons. I quickly scanned to see if I could spot any of them, but that was pointless. There were just too many bodies, too much blood.
"What are we waiting for!?" Palmer shouted over the sounds of battle, already armed with two daggers in her hands. "Lets kick some fucking ass, Jasper!"
"I'll help where I can, but I'm going to stay invisible to everyone for the time being." I adjusted my form until I was nothing.
"Wait, why?" she asked, frowning when she turned to look at me and found emptiness. I'd even hidden myself from her.
"Because I'd be a distraction. Everyone right now needs to focus, but I'm right here, darling. I'm right next to you, okay?"
She nodded, and I noticed the way her body was practically vibrating with the need to fight. This was her. Everything she'dever trained for had led to this moment. I longed to be able to join her, to join them. To let out my rage and resentment, but all I could picture was one of my brothers spotting me mid-battle and being so stunned that it would cause them to fuck up and get caught off guard. So as much as I wanted to, I couldn't.
One more moment of invisibility was worth it. I had the rest of my… life? Is it a life if you're not living? That was the thing, though. I'd never felt more alive than right this very second, and I'd do anything to never lose that feeling.
"Let's do this, ghost boy," Palmer shouted over the near-deafening sounds of the surging battle around us.
Palmer launched herself into the fray with an awe-inspiring and terrifying ferocity. She moved with a fluidity that displayed her years of training, her body a honed weapon as deadly as the blades she wielded. I stayed close, invisible to her as well, but my spectral form was tethered to hers as if bound by an unbreakable chain.
Her first target was a mind-controlled demon, his eyes glazed over with Asrael's malevolent influence. Palmer didn't hesitate. She leapt, her body arching through the air like a sleek predator. Her dagger flashed, a silver arc that ended at the demon's throat. He crumpled, and the dark magic holding him dissipated like smoke.
She landed lightly, already pivoting to the next threat. A group of three demons, their eyes equally vacant, charged her. Palmer's lips curled into a snarl, her blue eyes blazing with determination. She was a force of nature, a storm unleashed.
Palmer ducked under the first demon's wild swing, her dagger slicing through his hamstring. He howled, crashing to the ground. She spun, her other blade lashing out to parry the second demon's attack. The clash of metal rang out, a sharp counterpoint to the cacophony of battle. She followed through with a vicious elbow to his face, sending him sprawling.
The third demon lunged, but Palmer was ready. She sidestepped his attack, her foot hooking around his ankle. He stumbled, and she struck, her dagger plunging into his back. He fell, and she was already moving, leaving the fallen demons behind without a second glance.
Her every movement was a dance, a deadly ballet that left her opponents broken and defeated. She wove through the battlefield, her blades a whirlwind of steel that cut through the enemy like a scythe. Each strike was precise, and each step calculated. She was a symphony of violence, and I was just the lucky invisible son of a bitch who got to witness it fully.
A massive demon, easily twice her size, blocked her path. His eyes were clear, not under mind control, but filled with a malevolence all his own. He sneered, his voice a rumble like distant thunder. "You're just a little girl. You can't hope to defeat me."
Palmer's response was a cold smile. "Watch me."
She rushed him, her speed and agility starkly contrasting his lumbering bulk. He swung a massive fist, but she slipped beneath his guard, her dagger slicing across his thigh. He roared, more in anger than pain, and swung again. She ducked, her other blade carving a line across his chest.
He stumbled back, shock and disbelief in his eyes. Palmer pressed her advantage, her blades a flurry of silver that left him bleeding from a dozen cuts. He tried to grab her, but she was too quick, too skilled. She danced around him, her strikes precise and relentless.
Finally, with a roar of frustration, he lunged. Palmer met him head-on, her dagger driving up under his chin. He froze, his eyes widening in shock. With a twist of her blade, he fell, his massive body hitting the ground with a thud that shook the courtyard.
Palmer stood over him, her chest heaving, her blades dripping with blood. She looked like an avenging angel, a goddess of war,and I was humbled. This was her element, her purpose. She was born for this, trained for this, and she was magnificent.
As she surveyed the battlefield, her gaze locked onto a familiar figure. My heart tightened. I’d looked at him thousands of times over the years, but this time was different. I fucking remembered him. Us.
There was Rhodes, his dark hair stained with blood and ash, locked in combat with a demon nearly as large as the one Palmer had just felled. He was holding his own, but he was tiring, his movements slowing.
Palmer didn't hesitate. She sprinted towards him, her blades a blur of motion. She leapt, her foot planting on the back of a fallen demon, and launched herself at Rhodes' opponent. Her dagger sank into the demon's eye, and he screamed, clawing at his face as he fell.
Rhodes looked at her, shock, gratitude, and rage warring in his eyes. "Palmer," he breathed. "What the fuck—"
