Elise paused to take a long, poignant look at Blake’s face. That demon is going to regret what it did to me, he’d told her. Don’t try to take that away from me, Elise.
That was what she was doing right now, taking away his choice because it hurt her too much to honor it. Searing pain tore through Elise’s heart. I can’t do it. I love you too much to betray you like that.
She kissed Blake’s cold lips, then sat back. “It’s over,” she told the demon.
A viselike grip settled around her throat, lifting her until her head banged on the ceiling.
“You will obey me,” Xaphan said. Waves of sulfur curled around her, the odor so thick, it felt like it was slithering inside her.
Elise could barely talk with the pressure on her throat, but she managed to force out her reply.
“Go… to… hell.”
The van shook, metal curling back from the frame, before it was lifted and slammed repeatedly to the ground. Elise used all of her strength to tear away from the force that held her. She crawled toward Blake, covering him with her body when she reached him. Shielding him from metal shards that sliced through the air, ripping into her flesh and gouging the equipment around them. For a few nightmarish minutes, it felt like the entire world was being shaken and ripped apart.
A piercing shriek scalded her ears, causing Elise to lift her head and look in its direction. In the open doorway of the ruined van, a cloud of black flame appeared. It stretched into the form of a man with long, smoke-tipped wings coming from his back.
“Die,” the demon hissed. That cloud of burning sulfur shot straight toward Elise and Blake.
Elise braced herself but didn’t try to escape. She wouldn’t leave Blake, even if it meant her death.
Mencheres suddenly appeared in front of her, his power crackling the air around him. The flames reached him—and stopped, dissolving into smoke mere inches from his body.
“You’re not strong enough anymore, Xaphan,” Mencheres stated. “Your time is up.”
Xaphan screamed, but even as that awful noise reverberated, the smoke from the tips of his wings spread. It engulfed his legs, dissolving them out from under him. Then his arms, his torso, and finally, his sneering face, until there was nothing left of Xaphan but the faint scent of sulfur in the wind.
Elise closed her eyes for a second. The demon was gone. He couldn’t hurt Blake—or another innocent person—anymore.
Then her eyes snapped open. “Help me,” she said to Mencheres, scrambling to get the equipment set up again.
Mencheres moved quickly, gathering up the pieces of equipment that had been scattered around the van, but the outcome was soon obvious. Everything had been damaged. The generators weren’t working, which meant no heated oxygen, blood, or saline, and most of the IV lines had been shredded. Elise looked at the wreckage of their medical supplies with numbing panic. They’d never get Blake to a hospital in time, even if Mencheres flew him there, and they needed these things to bring him back to life.
Elise made her decision in the next moment, a steely determination filling her. I won’t let you die. I won’t.
She grabbed the nearest unbroken syringe she could find and rammed it into her throat, drawing out her blood. Then she plunged that same needle into Blake, injecting her blood into his artery.
“Begin compressions,” she directed Mencheres, blowing into Blake’s mouth.
Mencheres gave her a look she couldn’t read, but she didn’t care, whatever it meant. She kept blowing air into Blake’s lungs, pausing only to draw more blood from her to inject it into Blake. After five minutes, she had Mencheres stop, but Blake’s heart was still silent.
“Let’s warm him up more,” she said, and gathered everything that still held heat and piled it around Blake. All remaining warmed blood and saline bags were pressed to his armpits and groin, plus more blankets were piled on top of him. Elise even hauled the broken generators over to place Blake’s body on top of them, since they were still warmed from their recent activity.
“Again, more compressions,” she said, and injected another syringe of her blood into Blake.
Mencheres complied, manipulating Blake’s heart while she continued to blow air into his mouth. After another several minutes, Blake felt warmer. Elise’s hopes leapt when his heart made a few faint, erratic beats, but then it fell silent again.
“Come on,” Elise shouted in fear and frustration. “You’re not ready to die yet!”
“Elise…” Mencheres said.
“No,” she cut him off. “I’m not giving up on him.”
She looked at Blake—silent, pale, beautiful—and did the only thing she could think of. She bit into his neck, right at the jugular.
“Begin compressions,” she said to Mencheres. Her tone dared him to argue.