Demon Night

worse than death or torture. And with the Gates closed, maybe this one wouldn’t face the consequences for going against Jane’s will for five hundred years yet, so it seemed a better alternative than facing Sammael’s immediate vengeance.
    Jane yanked on her arm, and when she couldn’t get away, got up in the demon’s face. The woman had a powerful temper on her.
    “Charlie wrote me a sticky, Dylan, about silencing spells and vampires and demons, saying that you can’t stop me if I want to go. I thought it was a joke—but I can’t hear the alarm . So you’ve got about one second to prove her wrong, and then I’m walking over there.”
    “Just do it now,” Charlie muttered, but apparently she wasn’t going to wait for Jane’s second to pass. She made a move forward. Ethan put his hand over hers, keeping her from approaching the demon.
    “That’s not Sammael, Charlie,” he said softly. “I don’t rightly know if he’ll come after you to keep Jane from going, even if Sammael has told him not to hurt you. I reckon he’s got a lot to lose right now.”
    The demon met Ethan’s eyes again. “He’ll kill me, Jane. If you leave with him, he’ll kill me.”
    Jane had turned her head to look at Charlie, but at that statement her gaze lifted to Ethan’s face, then returned to the demon’s. “Him?”
    “Just stay with me of your free will until he comes out, so I can live. You’re an extraordinary woman, Jane, and you can save me just by waiting with me for another minute. I love you so much.”
    The demon was awful good at the kicked-puppy bit, with his eyes big and swimming with tears, his voice pleading; if Ethan was in her shoes, his heart would have been about breaking.
    Ethan called out, “That ain’t Dylan, Jane.”
    She turned to look again, but not at Ethan. Her gaze sought Charlie’s, and when Charlie shook her head, her eyes wide and pleading, Jane’s face set with determination.
    She pulled hard, and the demon didn’t let her go.
    The hairs on Ethan’s nape prickled. The air hummed like something had rubbed out a static charge…something big and powerful that didn’t feel like Sammael, or anything else he’d ever encountered.
    The demon felt it, too. He half-turned, glanced back at the house, the begging posture dropping away.
    So did his human form. Taloned hands and feet, black horns curling away from a still-human face—human but for the scarlet scales.
    Jane screamed, and this time, the demon let her slip away without a fight. Swords appeared in his hands, and he turned round and round. Ethan watched him, his heart pounding, and ran with Charlie to Jane, then backed up slowly as both women sprinted to the car. He palmed his sword in his right hand, his crossbow in his left, and made certain it was loaded with venom-soaked bolts.
    “Dylan?” Jane whispered in disbelief, and the alarm split the air.
    Ethan glanced away from the demon, saw Sammael at the front door, his face twisting with surprise…and fear.
    Sammael hissed a few words in the demon tongue, and his own weapons appeared. His gaze searched out Jane, and his face softened. “Don’t be afraid. You need to close your eyes. And you need to get away from Charlie.”
    Ethan frowned. The women had their arms around each other and were leaning against Jane’s small car. Nothing was going to be separating them, and surely Sammael wasn’t fearing that Charlie was going to bite—
    The being came in from nowhere. Teleported. Ethan swore and backed up a step, and for an instant shock held him motionless.
    Black feathered wings.
    No Guardian but the Doyen could create wings like that; a demon couldn’t either. Only white feathers or the membranous wings that demons and nosferatu wore.
    But this creature wasn’t Michael, the only other being Ethan had ever seen with those wings, and one of the few Guardians who could teleport.
    He’d never heard of a demon teleporting.
    And although it had crimson skin and eyes that were fully obsidian, the rest of it looked human. Metal plates formed a skirt like a Roman centurion’s armor, and they clinked with its movement.
    Quick—quicker than Ethan—it went after the demon who’d been impersonating Sammael, had him hanging upside-down with its hand circling his ankle.
    Its psyche felt like scales on a snake’s belly.
    “God Almighty,” Ethan whispered, and threw himself in front of Charlie and Jane, blocking their view just as the creature’s sword slid through the