Page 88 of Sweet Violence
Panic was a wild, clawed thing in my chest, pacing and swiping, drawing blood. If Dev refused, Eidolon would kill Taj, and if Dev complied, Eidolon would killhim. Two mates, taken from me. Like everything fucking else Eidolon stole from me.
My family. My childhood. My innocence. My conscience.
Arkan's fingers slid down my back, untangling the knots in my hair. "There's a silver lining, albeit small. The devil already knows something is wrong. When he couldn't reach you, he sent us to find out what happened. He'll already be on high alert, with more guards than usual. It doesn't help when Eidolon makes his ultimatum—"
"But maybe they can kill him before he even says it," I breathed, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Arkan's expression said that was highly unlikely, but I swallowed the bile in my throat and glanced away from him.
Outside the bubble of power that trapped us, the great hall was in ruins. There were dead demons everywhere, the tables and benches were overturned, and blood splashed across the floor and the walls. In short, it looked similar to the last time I saw it. Maybe we'd even improved the décor.
"He could never do that before," Arkan said suddenly, his fingers twitching against my back. "Eidolon. He could never change his appearance to someone else's before. He was only the demon you saw."
"The Swamp Thing," I agreed, somewhere between dry and hollow. "Ark," I breathed suddenly, a memory firing in my head. "Eidolon cancompelpeople. He's done it with humans—he made them stand still to be murdered—but maybe he can do the same with demons?"
"The guards," Arkan hissed in the same tone as a curse.
"Yeah."
"We need to get out of here. Donotgive up," he growled, wholly alpha male as he gave me a powerful stare. "We're going to need your magic, princess."
I sighed, my hope deflating. If our escape hinged on that, we were fucked. "I tried to use it, remember? I nearly got my eyebrows burned off."
"You have so much power inside you; there has to be a way." Arkan squeezed my shoulder and got to his feet, feeling along the invisible barrier.
We both jumped half a mile at the growly groan that came from a few feet away.
"Joseph," I gasped, flinging myself across the space to be at his side. "Careful, idiot. You’re speared by a candlestick; if you move too badly your insides might spill out. I know how to shove intestines back inside, but shoulder bones? Not a clue."
Joseph's mouth twitched into a smile, dark, shadowed eyelids blinking open so his eyes could find mine.
"Hey," I murmured, my heart skipping. "How much pain are you in? On a scale of one to ten?"
"Ten," he rasped, and my bottom lip wobbled. "Because you should be kissing me."
I covered my mouth with my hand as my lip went crazy, tears blurring his face. "If you weren't so injured, I'd fucking kill you," I said, thick with emotion.
But I dropped my hand and kissed him as gently as I could.
"Can't heal around it," he groaned against my mouth. "Take it out."
"And let you bleed to death?" I hissed. "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
"No, he's right," Arkan said, settling his hand on my shoulder and offering the contact I badly needed to pull myself together. "He's got a better chance of healing if it's removed."
"If you're wrong about this, I'll skin your balls," I warned my wraith, spearing him with a serious look.
He winced, shifting his weight from foot to foot, no doubt feeling the pain I promised.
"Here," I sighed, and kissed Joseph, conscious of the bruises and swelling on his face. "That's for luck. Take as deep a breath as you can with your ribs broken, and hold it."
"Anything for you, my sweet," he agreed, voice faint with pain he was doing his best to pretend didn't exist.
"Pull straight upward," Arkan said, fussing and nervous as he hovered behind me. "Don't pull on an angle or—"
I took advantage of Joseph's attention drifting to Arkan, gripped the gilt candlestick embedded spike-first in his shoulder, and yanked it out.
Joseph roared, the half-skull flickering over his face.
