Sam still wasn't convinced. Demons and Daimons weren't really that far apart on a subspecies scale. "Let's pretend for a minute that I'm right and he was a demon messing with you. Wouldn't all of this"--she gestured toward the demon remains--"make more sense?"
Fang laughed low in his throat like he had a secret none of the rest of them knew. "Yes, but he was a Daimon. Trust me. I do know my demons."
Why was he being so stubborn? "Some aren't that easy to spot."
Fang snorted. "For you people. I happen to be a Hellchaser so trust me when I say I can tell when a demon is nearby. Spot over there is what woke me up out of dead sleep a few minutes ago. I knew the minute he changed from possessed human to demon and manifested his powers. It makes my skin burn and Daimons don't do that to me."
Sam was unfamiliar with the term he'd used to describe himself even though he'd said it as if she should know. "What's a Hellchaser?"
Fang flashed a cocky grin. "Dark-Hunters hunt Daimons. Hellchasers hunt demons. No matter what they do to disguise themselves, they can't hide from one of us for long. The minute they use their powers anywhere near us, we feel it. Just like you guys with your prey."
He was right about that. As a Dark-Hunter, she could sense anytime a Daimon was anywhere near her. So it stood to reason that he'd have a similar power with his targets. "Then do you know why Spot was here?"
"My job is to police them. I'm not their therapist or parole officer. He could have come in to harass me or just for a drink. With a demon, there's no telling. He might have even followed someone else in here for who knows what purpose."
Sam gave Fang a droll stare as she mentally came to terms with the inevitable fact she'd been trying to avoid. Daimons walked in daylight and Fang was psychotic.
"Fine." Disgusted with what she was forced to do, she pulled her glove off and went over to the snot that Max was in the process of cleaning up.
Nice dragon to mop up without complaining. Though he did pause to give her a puzzled frown.
"Don't ask." She knelt down and touched a small spot of the demon's remains. It was so cold and slimy...uuuggghhh! Trying not to think about that or the fact it was burning her fingertip, she closed her eyes and used her powers to conjure an image of the demon in his true form.
Oh yeah, that was a face even his mother would cringe over. Slug demons weren't attractive. They looked like fat humanoid boars complete with tusks coming out of their chins and foreheads.
But the things she saw playing through her mind were baffling. They made no sense whatsoever....
She saw a place without daylight. Not a city in this world, but it was a city where the sun didn't shine--she had to force herself to ignore that obvious pun. It was like the sun didn't exist in that realm...and it had to be an alternate realm. There was nothing about it to say it was the human world and it looked completely different. An odd combination of an ancient civilization and a modern one.
Suddenly the demon was in a hall where Daimons gathered in a number she would have never thought possible for them. There had to be well over a thousand Daimons and they spoke in a language she couldn't identify.
Crud. She spread her palm deeper into the ick on the floor to get a better immersion into the demon's last memories.
The room around her spun until she was in the body of the demon. She could hear what he heard, feel what he felt, and see everything through his bloodred eyes. The roar of the Daimons made her ears hurt as she tried to wade through them.
Her master was summoning her and she was desperate to reach him. He was in pain. She could feel it and it made her own body ache. It was her duty to release him. To fight and protect him...
A male Daimon grabbed her brutally by the scruff of the neck and pulled her forward to a dais where two black thrones were set. Each one was heavily carved to resemble human bones--something no doubt meant to intimidate all who saw it and boy did it ever work on the demon as he faced the throne's occupants. A gorgeous man with short black hair sat in one and in the other was a beautiful blond woman whose eyes were so cold they seemed brittle.
"Can we eat this one, my lord?" the Daimon holding him asked.
The man on the throne shook his head. "Slugs are soulless. Servants. They're not worth our time. Besides, he'd give you indigestion."
The Daimon made a sound of disgust before he flung the slug demon away. It was then the demon saw his master....
He was on the floor a few feet from him, being drained by two Daimons.
"Help me!" his master called as he reached out toward him, but he knew it was useless. There was nothing he could do against so many. The Daimons were killing his master....
He would be next.
The woman on the throne laughed. "Look at the poor creature, Stryker. I think you've scared him to death."
He had, but it was more than that. His master no longer wore a human skin. He was in true winged demon form and still he couldn't fight the Daimons....
The Daimons were far more powerful than all of the demon's kind.