And it wasn't like her scent wasn't embedded in his senses. Yet there was no trace whatsoever that she was anywhere at all.
"Well?" Ethon asked in a less than impressed tone. "What's your super smeller telling you, Gus?"
He gave the Dark-Hunter an evil glower. "Stop with the Psych reference, asshole. Remember, I am one of the few species who can rip you limb from limb."
Ethon scoffed. "Do I look intimidated by you, rug?"
"You two stop!" Chi snapped as she came out of her weirdness. "We have a major problem here. Sam wasn't taken by a Daimon or a Charonte. It was one of the empusae who took her."
"Ah now, that's just wrong." Kali shook his head.
Ethon and Dev cursed simultaneously. The empusae were a rare breed of shapeshifting Greek demons capable of all manner of cruelty. But the one they were most known for was draining the blood from their victims, victims they could enslave and control. They were the original Greek demons who'd started the vampire legends.
And they were often mistaken for Daimons by those who didn't know the difference. The main things that set them apart were that the empusae could walk in daylight and they weren't cursed to die at twenty-seven. Most of all, Dark-Hunter blood wasn't poisonous to them.
If one of them had Sam...
It could get ugly fast. The empusae were demigods and far more powerful than either the Dark-Hunters or the Daimons. No wonder Dev hadn't been able to track it. It would be in the sixth dimension.
Shit.
Chi jerked her chin toward Dev. "Call Fang and see if he can use his Hellchaser powers to track our demon." She looked at Ethon, Scorpio, and Kali. "You guys, go downstairs and sharpen your knives and look intimidating."
Ethon scowled. "Any particular reason for that?"
"It'll keep you out of my hair and off my nerves until we can catch her trail. Now go. We have to find Sam before this thing kills her."
Sam wanted to fight the beast that held her as he carried her down a dark alley in the Art District. But she couldn't. The moment he'd taken her into his arms, he'd locked gazes with her and something inside her had snapped and broken. She'd gone completely numb. Every muscle in her body was limp and worthless. It was a struggle just to breathe. In her mind, she saw the people he'd killed. Heard them screaming and begging for their lives while he'd laughed at their pain.
He was insane. He didn't care who he hurt or why. All he wanted was to feel the power he had over them as he made them suffer.
The demon laughed. "That's right, bitch. I own you and I'm going to torture you in so many ways you will know ultimate suffering for the rest of eternity."
The Amazon inside her screamed out, wanting to fight. But her body absolutely refused to cooperate. She was at his mercy and he hated her with an unfathomable depth.
What had she done to make him feel that way? She tried to sort through his memories to find the answer, but if there was one, he had it buried deep. So deep that trying to get to it was giving her a vicious headache.
"Lazaros!"
The demon turned to the right at the call. Deep in the shadows was what appeared to be a man's outline.
"Let her go." Not a shout, but a quiet, powerful demand that carried an undercurrent that said if Lazaros didn't obey, he would regret it.
Lazaros sneered at the shadow he deemed nothing more worrisome than a pebble in his shoe. "You don't give me orders, imisysmorfi."
Sam sucked her breath in at the ancient insult that meant the man was malformed or half-witted. Though the literal translation wasn't as foul as the meaning behind the word. In her time, men had killed each other over it. For the demon's sake, she hoped the man wasn't an ancient Greek. Otherwise there would be bloodletting aplenty.
The shadow vanished, then reappeared right behind them. "Boo."
Lazaros dropped her straight down and turned to fight. Ow! Big ow! She hit the ground so hard, it knocked the breath out of her. She would definitely feel that tomorrow.
If she didn't die tonight.
And it was yet another reason why she wanted to kill the bastard scum. If only she could move. Meanwhile the shadow and the demon tore into each other with a venom the Furies would envy. But at least they weren't stepping on her.
Yet.
Sam was still under his control, and honestly, she was getting tired of it. She wanted to fight, not lie in the street like a worthless lump. With every piece of iron will she had, she tried to inch away from them as they went at each other like Titans after Zeus. It was impressive and made her really want to take them down. The shadow cut and dodged, and hit the demon with enough power that it lifted him almost ten feet off the ground.
Don't pay attention to them. If she could just crawl into the alley next to her, she might be able to get free while the demon was distracted.
Come on, body, don't fail me now. You can do it.
But that was easier said than done. What had the demon done to her that she was so helpless? Worse, that feeling of being powerless was eking away at her Dark-Hunter powers as memories of her death surged.
Stay calm, Sam. Focus.