Legacy of the Demon (Kara Gillian 8)

Bryce had surprised me by volunteering to serve as Elinor’s bodyguard, merely saying that he felt like he needed to come along. Since his feelings were usually right on the mark, and since Elinor didn’t have the slightest whiff of tactical training, I gratefully accepted his offer.

Elinor and Bryce tucked into the unit’s formation behind Szerain, Turek, and me. Sergeant Roma snapped orders to Alpha squad, and we cautiously advanced into the strange terrain.

Very strange. Rakkuhr crawled everywhere like foggy pythons. As we proceeded forward, the street became oddly pliant, akin to a rubberized track surface. The grass that had been finding its way through cracks now shied away from our approach—which was better than the neon purple daisies along what was once the sidewalk. One lunged and sank thorn-teeth into Ahmed’s boot before he could jerk back, leaving several embedded in the leather.

Rat-roach creatures with shiny black carapaces and glowing red eyes scurried away from us to hide in crevices. One sought refuge among the Dastardly Daisies and suffered numerous bites before it could scramble free. A perfectly normal-looking sparrow regarded us from atop a tumble of moldy bricks then belched a tiny gout of flame that crisped a tendril of crimson vine.

Yet throughout it all, in odd contrast to the weirdness, the air was filled with a pleasant clean and citrusy scent.

We were halfway to the valve when a mass of at least a hundred rat-roaches swarmed from beneath a crushed bus and scuttled toward us. Kowal took them out with her flamethrower before they could get close, then dealt with a cluster of hedgehog-sized horseflies in the same fashion. An Irish setter poked its head out of a gap between chunks of concrete, but as it emerged, it revealed a grotesquely long, serpentine-yet-furry body supported by a few dozen normal dog legs—complete with a wagging tail at the hind end. It started toward us, expression eager, then slunk away as I brought my pistol up to bear.

“Jesus.” Pellini’s voice cracked on the word. I looked over to see him lowering his gun as the dog-ipede retreated. “Glad I didn’t have to shoot it, but maybe I should’ve anyway.”

“Right there with you, dude,” I replied and fought down a shudder.

Elinor pivoted slowly, taking it all in. “Such havoc Xharbek has wreaked for no just cause,” she murmured. “That asshole.”

Bryce cast a sidelong glance at me along with a hint of a smile.

I grinned. “Indeed he is.”

The road became squishier the farther we went, until it was like memory foam on a giant trampoline. Rakkuhr drifted fifty feet overhead in thick, low-hanging clouds shot through with streaks of black lightning. There’d been no sign of the rat-roaches since the flamethrower incident, though dozens of other oddities kept us on our toes.

We were less than a hundred feet from the valve when a reyza flew over. Weapons snapped up and stayed trained on the demon as it landed atop a partially crumbled building.

My eyes narrowed. No gold, and nowhere close to rating even a one on the Gestamar size scale. “That’s not a Jontari.”

“You’re right,” Szerain said. “That’s Kajjon. One of Amkir’s.” His gaze traveled over the area, then he lifted his chin. “And the reyza perched in that caved in window is Rodian. Jesral’s.”

I caught a glimpse of a small kehza before it ducked around a corner. Good grief, these demons looked downright puny after dealing with the Jontari and a certain imperator.

Roma moved up beside me. “Did the demons put their younglings out for us to fight?”

“No, these are a different kind,” I said. That was easier than trying to explain the difference between lord-allied and Jontari. “They may be smaller, but they’re smart. Geniuses with teeth and claws. Don’t underestimate them. And for every one we spot, there are probably two or three more out of sight.”

“Good to know.”

As we neared the ruined PD parking lot, Alpha squad deployed to provide cover and suppress demon interference, even as Bravo squad signaled that they were in a solid flanking position to our right. From that same direction, I spied Pellini and Idris picking their way around a cluster of Biting Begonias on their way to the valve.

With Turek and Bryce following, Szerain, Elinor, and I headed to a spot across the street from the valve and what had once been the Grounds For Arrest coffee shop.

Now it was grounds for a nest. A shop-sized nest riddled with tunnels, made of trash glued together with a glistening amber resin. An awful scritch-scratching noise came from within, and my brain helpfully supplied an image of thousands of the rat-roaches lurking in the darkness. Gee, thanks, brain.

Szerain drew crackling potency to his right hand, ready for a strike. In silent accord, we moved on to the vacant storefront next door. This was bad. Bad-bad-bad. If these various vermin could not only mutate, but set up house and multiply in less than a day, Earth would be overrun before the week was out. Ants. Earthworms. Birds. Fish. Tigers. People. If we failed to get the mutagen shut down, we’d be in deep shit.

Bursts of small arms fire clattered here and there—the squads dealing with threats. Szerain continued another dozen feet to a relatively clear spot then began to dance the shikvihr. He needed the solid potency boost for his part in this. While Elinor fidgeted in a broken doorway, I tugged gloves on—since I needed my arcane abilities intact—then prepped the makkas wire into lassos. I wanted it to be as simple as possible to wrap Xharbek up in the stuff .

By the time I had a lasso ready in each gloved hand, Szerain’s shikvihr was complete and ignited. Elinor drew herself tall and stepped out into the street, hands in tight fists by her side, likely to keep them from shaking.

Within the spinning rings of the shikvihr, Szerain raised his hand and called Vsuhl to him. I cursed under my breath in dismay. That wasn’t in the game plan. Surely he didn’t need the damn demon knife in order to break the bond.

Or maybe he did. Breaking the ptarl bond wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. It was hard to blame him for wanting all the arcane support he could muster. To him, the knife was a powerful and well-established tool in his potency toolbox, like the shikvihr.

How the hell am I ever going to get that blade away from him?

Elinor looked over at Szerain and received a small nod of encouragement, then shot her gaze to me. She was scared but appeared determined not to chicken out.

I hurried to a nearby spot by a pile of rubble then gave her a smile and a thumbs up. “You got this,” I said. “Just remember—we’re literally soul sisters.”