“Why not of those who she couldn’t reach?” he asked.
“Keeps them honest,” I said with a short laugh. “Prevents deception. Or maybe they have no interest in the hearts of those who were already gone. I don’t know, and I doubt anybody knows the answer.”
Chase frowned, then pushed it aside. “So what did we find out? The last one seemed to know we were up against demons. And he said that it ate him up?”
I nodded. “My bet is that the thing sucks souls dry.”
At that moment, Sharah entered the room, carrying a pan and several opaque plastic bags. “I’m going to excise their hearts. I suggest you leave unless you want to watch me prepare dinner for our guest.” She had a faint look of disgust on her face. Elves didn’t like Corpse Talkers and vice versa, but she’d do what was necessary.
Chase was at the door in a flash. “Come on, let’s check on the survivors.”
We followed.
As she brushed past Sharah, Camille laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and the elf gave her a brave smile. Sharah’s job had turned out to be incredibly bloody compared to what she could be doing at home in Elqaneve. Though she was Queen Asteria’s niece, she chose to stick it out here for the greater good.
One of the survivors was fading fast, his vital signs dropping even as we stood by his bed. The other drifted in and out of consciousness, barely coherent.
“It’s in my mind,” he whispered. “I can feel it . . .”
“Whatever we’re dealing with is still feeding on their life energy,” I said.
Vanzir spoke up. “It’s probably trying to spawn as much fear as possible. Fear spurs on adrenaline, meaning more energy.”
“He’s right,” Camille said.
“Okay,” Chase said. “So we have a passel of demons that can get inside your mind and feed on it, then can drain you of your life without a scratch. But why did Delilah show wounds?”
“I’ll bet you all of their victims were wounded for a bit. Sympathetic magic. They knew they were being attacked, so their bodies showed it. Why the wounds healed, I don’t know. When Delilah shook the one attacking her, her wounds healed up almost instantly.” I frowned.>“She means Demonkin.” Vanzir joined us. A dream chaser demon, Vanzir had defected to our side and had voluntarily placed himself under our control through the Ritual of Subjugation, a painful and binding trial. His life was in our hands for as long as he lived and wherever he went. He looked like a shorter, younger David Bowie during his Ziggy Stardust days, with platinum short spiky hair and eyes that shone with an alien light. He had the whole punk, heroin-chic thing going on.
“I knew I smelled demon scent.” I glanced up at him. “I tried to attack it but damn . . . You happen to know what those things are?”
“No more than you. I’ve never seen anything quite that . . . odd.” He shook his head. “Did you manage to hit the one attacking you?”
I grunted. “No, and I can’t figure out why. I was set to make contact, but the creature had some sort of force field around it. I landed my foot against the barrier, and it slammed me back on my ass.” I shrugged. “Anybody else make a direct hit?”
Delilah looked at the others. They all shook their heads.
“Apparently not,” she said, “but I can tell you this. When that thing was attacking me, I felt something squirming around in my mind. Like a swarm of beetles.” She shivered. “In fact, for a moment, I thought . . .”
“Yes?” I encouraged her gently.
Delilah squinted and rubbed her head. “I can’t remember what I was going to say. But it felt like it was drilling into my skull, into my very soul.”
I groaned. “Great. A soul sucker. Just what we need. You think they’re in cahoots with Shadow Wing? He’s a Soul Eater.”
“A Soul Eater’s so powerful he wouldn’t leave anybody alive. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a connection.” Vanzir frowned.
“These creatures don’t seem to be his usual MO. Shadow Wing usually sends Degath Squads or powerful spies like Karvanak the Raksasa. I can’t imagine him sending monsters like these, but maybe I’m wrong.” Camille frowned. “We’d better figure out what these things are right away.”
Just then, Mallen joined us.
“Five dead, and not a mark on them,” he said, his face ashen. “Two of the wounded managed to live. Both of the survivors are barely conscious. We’re taking them in. What the hell went on here? I can’t figure out what’s wrong with them or why the others died.”
Chase spoke up. He’d remained surprisingly quiet until now. “Whatever these monsters are, I want them found and destroyed. I also want to know why they’re attacking the Fae and not humans.”
“We should put in a call to a Corpse Talker,” I said. “Since the dead are Fae, she might be able to provide some sort of lead.”
“Good idea,” Sharah said. “I can make arrangements. We’ve got one on standby.”