Terrified, he teleported away from the Daimons, back to the human world and to some semblance of safety.
No sooner had he arrived than he felt the unleashing--the sensation of his master's death.
I'm free. After all the centuries of serving under his master's cruel fist, he was now his own demon. Forever free. Joy filled him.
Until a Daimon appeared to his right. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I--"
The Daimon lunged at him, cutting off his words.
The slug demon ran.
"Come back here, you worm! Die like your master."
Terrified, the slug teleported again, but just as he flashed out, he felt something hit his chest like a vicious battering ram. Unable to breathe for the pain of it, he'd headed to the only place he could think of where the Daimons couldn't kill him.
Sanctuary. It was the one establishment that protected all preternatural classes equally. The bears would make sure no one hurt him.
He flashed into the third story of the building where humans were forbidden to go and stumbled down two levels to the bar. At this hour, only a few patrons were in the club, along with a bear at the bar and a bear waitress. It appeared safe. There were no Daimons at all. With that thought foremost in his mind, he went to the bar to order a drink all the while he watched for the Daimon to come for him and finish him off.
Seconds ticked by slowly.
No Daimons. No one approached him.
I'm safe.
His heartbeat slowing, he took his drink and sipped it, grateful that he'd escaped his near death in Kalosis at the hands of Stryker and crew. At least until the pain built inside his chest. It was unbearable. Agonizing.
What's causing this? Was it something to do with the body he'd stolen before he'd gone to Kalosis? Did the biker have some kind of internal defect?
He staggered away from the bar, trying to find some way to make it stop hurting. He accidentally brushed up against a grubby human.
"Hey! Watch where you're going, dick."
He growled at the pathetic human waste.
The human stood up and shoved him. "You wanna fight?"
Was that a trick question? The demon rushed him as they locked horns....
Sam pulled back emotionally from the sight as it intersected with what she already knew. Dev breaking them apart and the demon dying after the pain in his chest burst apart.
She opened her eyes to find Fang, Max, Aimee, and Colt watching her with curious expressions. "He came to Sanctuary because he was running from the Daimons. He thought he'd be safe here."
Max snorted. "Epic fail."
Ignoring him, Fang crossed his arms over his chest. "Why run from the Daimons? Any idea what they wanted with him?"
Not really, other than the Daimons were twisted freaks. "They ate his master and then they shot something into him. That was what made him explode after he got here. There was one Daimon who wanted to kill him in particular, but I don't know why."
Aimee grimaced. "Why would they eat his master? They can't feed off the blood of a demon...can they?" She looked up at her mate.
A tic started in Fang's jaw as he considered it. "If a Daimon takes the soul of a Were-Hunter they get the Were-Hunter's powers to use as their own."
"But it's only temporary," Colt said. "When the Were-Hunter's soul dies, they lose those powers."
Max narrowed his gaze on where the demon had died. "I thought they kept those powers."
Fang wiped his hand across his chin. "What ever. It doesn't matter. We're not talking Were-Hunters. We're talking demons. And those rules could be entirely different."
"The power to walk in daylight," Aimee whispered, bringing them back to what was the most important part in all of this.
Fang gave a grim nod before he locked gazes with Sam. "Now that they're not tied to the night, they'll be coming for you guys when you're most vulnerable."
In the daytime when they couldn't run. The Dark-Hunters would be trapped in their homes and if the Daimons broke out the windows of their bedrooms to let daylight spill in...
They were dead.
Or worse, just burn down their homes while they slept. The Dark-Hunters wouldn't be able to evacuate. A bad enough fire would kill them too.
With the Hunters all gone, no one would be here to stop the Daimons from killing any human they wanted to.
It would be open season on humanity.
Bon appetit.
Chapter 3
Dev was toweling off his hair, heading back to his room when Aimee met him in the hallway.
She handed him a piece of paper. "Sam wanted me to give you this."
He scowled at the folded-up scrap of Sanctuary letterhead that still held the Amazon's scent on it. "A paper note? How quaint. I haven't seen one of these in a long time."
Aimee laughed. "Yeah. It reminds me of the days when women would leave their numbers on napkins for you and I'd have to bring you a stack of them every night. Now it's all about sending the text and digits over. Just wait until they release swipe technology."
It was true. And that technology was just around the corner.