The dark-haired one with glasses looked Eidolon up and down, measuring him, and then, in a coordinated move, launched a morning star as Bleak swung a machete.
Eidolon blocked the machete, but the star caught him in the chest. Something blunt mashed a kidney. Hot streaks of agony rose up from his wounds. He grunted, managed to wrestle the machete away from Bleak. The next few moments were a blur of fists, steel, and feet.
When they came apart, Eidolon was still trapped, his left leg wasn’t working right, and blood ran freely into one eye. The slayers were panting, bleeding, but he’d held back, Tayla’s plea to spare them ringing in his head. On the other hand, they outnumbered and outweaponed him. If he didn’t kill them, they were going to turn him into mulch.
The right side of his face pulsed. An injury . . .
He froze. Not an injury, not with the way his face burned as though it had been branded. Not with the way his vision had gone sharp and red, as if he could see the aggression around him as well as smell it.
The Change.
Time was up. Game over.
The urge to shift into something huge and scary made him moan with anticipation. He wanted to tear the slayers apart, feel their bones break between his jaws. And then he’d hunt down their females and—
No. Gods, no. Cold sweat broke out all over his body. He would not turn out like Roag. He would not force his brothers to kill him, or worse, force Tayla to do the deed.
Tayla.
Pain ripped through his chest, pain that had nothing to do with what the slayers had done to him. He hadn’t had nearly enough time with her, hadn’t opened his heart soon enough. And now he’d never know the feel of her tender touch again. The next time she saw him, he’d be the beast she had believed him to be from the beginning.
A bolt of hell no shot through him like summer lightning. Roag should have been put down at the time of his transition. Eidolon would be.
He tore the morning star from where it had lodged in his right pec, and smiled. “Well, Aegi, seems like it’s your lucky day.”
Gem raced out the zoo’s front entrance, nearly knocking over Shade, who was rushing inside.
“Your parents are fine. I found them wandering around, looking for Luc.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “They’re over there. Worried as hell about you.”
“Thank you.” She grasped his forearm before he could take off. “Make sure Tayla is okay. Please?”
“It’s what Eidolon wants,” was all he said. Like a phantom, he stepped into a shadow and disappeared.
“Gem!” Her father’s voice, as full of emotion as she’d ever heard it, called out to her. Within seconds, both parents had engulfed her in a hug, something as rare as the Amazonian orchids her mother collected.
She hugged them back. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“What’s going on in there?” her mom asked, as they broke apart. “Can we go home now?”
Gem dragged in a breath. “I want you to go home. I have to stay. I have to make sure Tayla is okay.”
“Tayla?” her parents said in unison.
“I’ll explain later. But you have to trust me.” She glanced at Luc. “Can you make sure they get home safely?”
“Do I look like a taxi driver?” He growled low in his throat, obviously disappointed that he couldn’t kick some ass inside the zoo. “Yeah. Whatever.”
“Gem, no. You’re a doctor. And part human. You shouldn’t—”
“Mom.” She reached out, cupped her mom’s cheek in a loving gesture she’d never made before. “I’m also a Soulshredder. I know you’ve tried to pretend I’m a Sensor, but it’s time to face reality. I was built to take care of myself. And I need to do this.”
The demons who had raised her, had taken her in when they should have destroyed her, looked exhausted, worried . . . and proud.
Twenty-five
Tayla lost Lori, but she found Eidolon.
Sig, Warren, and Bleak were circling him, sharp blades drawn. Bleak was limping, and a steady stream of blood ran from Warren’s nose, but Eidolon had taken a good beating, as well. Deep cuts scored his back and arms, and his bared teeth were tinged red.
Those sons of bitches.
He said something she couldn’t hear. The machete and a morning star fell from his hands, clattering to the asphalt. What was he up to?
The guys backed off, suspicion darkening their expressions, but when Eidolon did nothing, they closed in, smiling, mocking him. Their taunts cut her like any blade, the things they said to him, the vulgar names she’d once used. She launched herself across the span of space. At the same time, Warren struck Eidolon from behind, a scissor kick to the spine. Eidolon crashed to his knees.
“No!” she screamed, and four heads whipped around. “Take them, Eidolon! Forget what I said!”
But he stayed where he was, a willing sacrifice. “Go! Get out of here.”
Good God, was he insane?