Demon Bound

Alice’s psychic scent. “Take mine, demon. You’ve already violated me. You might as well finish the job and take mine instead.”
    “If you flew toward the sentinels, they would see you coming; they would not see this one if he teleports to their side. But even if he manages to slay one sentinel, I will not leave him able to defend himself in the air.”
    Bullshit. “Then take my arms,” Jake said. One was already half-gone, anyway. A clean cut might actually hurt less than whatever was going on there now as it healed.
    Belial didn’t answer him, but gave an order to the demons behind Jake. Yeah. Belial could justify it however he wanted, but this wasn’t about defense, because taking his arms would be more effective than taking his wings.
    But his wings were a symbol—and this was an attempt to demoralize them.
    Not that he would allow it, Jake determined. The demons behind him let go of the sword through his forearm. Jake vanished it. No use trying to fight them. He knelt in front of Alice instead. His blood dripped onto her back when he flicked the sides of her dress closed, covering her.
    It was something, he thought. One very small thing he could do for her.
    “Now offer them willingly, Guardian, or I shall take her arms.”
    He gritted his teeth, then formed his wings, felt their comfortable burden. Alice made a soft sound, and her fingers flattened on the cracked stone lid. Jake shoved at the demon’s hand holding her wrist. At a word from Belial, it was released.
    “One thing’s for sure,” Jake said, and clasped his palm to hers, lacing their fingers. “His definition of ‘willingly’ is completely fucked up.”
    “I do prefer Michael’s version of—” She clamped her lips together as his wings went numb, the weight on his back lightened. There were two thumps on the floor behind him, like overstuffed pillows whacked with a stick.
    Pain ripped down the stumps of the wingframe. Sucking in a hard breath, Jake vanished what was left. The pain disappeared.
    That had been faster than he’d expected—but then, he’d thought Belial would do it, and had been waiting for the demon to move. The strike had come from behind him, instead.
    Easier that way, but he didn’t exactly feel grateful.
    They took away the fallen feathers, muscle, and bone. Of course they did. His wings could be reattached and heal in less than an hour—but now they would have to completely regrow. It might take two or three weeks. And they could only heal when he was wearing them, which meant forming the bleeding stumps again. That was going to really fucking hurt.
    Once they grew to full size, he could shift them as small or as large as he liked. Until then, they were useless.
    Jesus, his throat was tight. Just a symbol, he reminded himself. Feathers didn’t make a Guardian. And so he wouldn’t let it matter.
    Alice’s hand smoothed over his head. They’d finally let her go, Jake realized. And the demons were retreating now—except for the twelve sentinels. Their armor was much lighter than the other demons’, which told Jake it wasn’t often they were a line of defense or used for face-to-face combat. No, these sentinels would be the stealth: the ones that snuck up behind you and pulled your heart out of your back before you turned around.
    “Demon!” Alice called out. Jake looked up; her striking face was washed in the painfully bright light, but her eyes were open against it. “There is a prophecy foretelling your rise to power in Hell. But if thwarting that prophecy means that I have to keep Michael’s heart safe from you and all of your demons for the rest of my days, I will do it.”
    “Are you so certain it is not the Guardians who need to be kept safe from Michael’s heart?” Belial’s voice was faintly mocking. “For we are all made in the image of our fathers—and you were not safe from me.”
    Alice’s fingers tightened, but she had no other reaction. She stared ahead until the light faded, and the silence that marked the shielding spell settled around the room.
    “He might have been lying.” Jake’s rough whisper was like a yell in the darkness. Did the sentinels know any human languages? Did it matter?
    “I know.” She ran her fingers up over his hair, and for a moment, the soft rasp covered the sound of twelve demon heartbeats. “Well, then,” she added, and though he couldn’t see it, he knew her back had straightened. “Shall we get to work?”

    Over the next two days, Jake