Well, he knew the answer to that. He still considered the traitors friends, despite it all, and it would hurt them if something happened to their demons. He didn’t know how to say any of that without entirely giving away his hand, though.
“I…”
The glowing violet of his eyes was mesmerizing. “Is it a difficult question?”
Yes, he didn’t say. If this stranger attacked the demons, the humans would fight back. That was the important thing. “They have humans among them,” he said instead.
“If I wanted to hurt any of them, I would have, demon and human alike. Step aside, brave one. I am only here to talk.”
Brave one. Julian stubbornly told himself he wasn’t charmed by the compliment.
His body prickling under the demon’s weighted stare, he sheathed his blade on his back. The demon stepped closer, and Julian belatedly realized howtallhe was. Julian was five-foot-eight, and this demon was probably a foot taller than him, towering over everyone in the parking lot. There was no malice in his gaze as he looked down at Julian, and despite the destruction he’d just witnessed, Julian didn’t feel threatened by this demon’s size or closeness. In fact, there was something strangely soothing about him, from his voice to his careful grace.
The most dangerous thing about him was the way he took Julian off-guard.
The demon’s head turned away from him before his eyes did, like his gaze wanted to linger on Julian.
“Leviathans,” his deep voice rumbled, like the purr of a lion. Julian swore he could feel the vibration of it in his bones and they weren’t even touching. “I’d like a word.”
“Behemoth,” one of the black-eyed demons said. He shielded Alex Hawk behind him. Hawk’s blue eyes were wide over his leather-clad shoulder.
Julian only knew vague things about behemoth demons. No one had seen one in centuries. They were rumored to be, well, really big. Insanely powerful. And utterly loyal to Hell. Why would this one have traveled to Earth to speak with the traitors?
A low groan broke the silence, and Julian remembered Accardi bleeding out on the ground. He wheeled around sharply.A white-haired halfling was helping him sit up. He growled as Julian approached, until Accardi patted his hand.
“It’s okay, Storm. He helped us, didn’t he?”
“He’s one of them,” Storm responded, glaring at Julian.
“You need a hospital,” Julian said.
Accardi shook his head. “Just—inside. We have some medical equipment. Get the bullet out, and I’ll be fine.”
Julian didn’t see how, but it wasn’t his place to question him. He offered his hand, and despite Storm’s glare, Accardi reached out and took it. Storm probably did most of the work lifting him, but Accardi stumbled into Julian once he was upright. Julian caught him with a hiss, letting him use his shoulders for support.
“Neither of them should come inside the wards,” said the leviathan guarding Hawk.
“It’s okay, Talon,” Accardi said breathlessly. “Julian’s a good guy.”
Julian’s face burned, and he kept his head down as they limped to the door. He was here under orders to treat them like the enemy, and his involvement was a direct disobedience. He didn’t feel very much like a good guy right now.
“Come in, you two,” Nathan rasped as they reached the door. “Our ward will allow you in as long as you mean us no harm.” He cast the behemoth a very pointed look at that, and awareness raised the hair on the back of Julian’s neck. The behemoth was right behind him.
Stepping into their home base was like walking into another world. There were multicolored lights and adisco ballover the training area across the room. A glass snack bar was packed haphazardly with snacks of all kinds—candy, health bars, jugs of protein powder, bags of chips, assorted cans of flavored nuts and bags of jerky. A couple of couches sat in an L-shape together on the back wall, enclosed with a semicircle of mismatched kitchen chairs, rockers, and even a La-Z-Boy.
The strangest thing was the old air hockey table in the middle of the room, acting as a conference table. Chairs surrounded it, papers were stacked in neat little piles, and a couple of laptops sat open near the corners, where a pair of wooden stools were positioned.
“This is… not what I expected,” he said. “They said skating rink, but they really meantskating rink.” He’d expected them to have gutted the building and transformed it into something else, but this still looked exactly like a rink, albeit with training mats and equipment where the skating should take place.
Accardi rasped out a chuckle. “Yeah. Med room’s that way.” He nodded toward the back.
“I’ve got him,” Storm growled, taking Accardi’s weight and glaring at Julian. “You should go, holy man. You’re not welcome here.”
“Be nice,” Accardi admonished, but anything else he might have said was cut off when Storm picked him up bridal-style and carried him away like he weighed nothing.
Nathan was right. Julian didn’t belong here, and every moment he stood there staring was another moment he was disobeying. Swallowing hard, he turned on his heel to leave—and a strong hand wrapped around his throat.
“Hello, little lemming.” It was another black-eyed demon, grinning wickedly. His fingers tightened, cutting off Julian’s airway, and backed him up. Julian stumbled over his feet, but the demon’s hand kept him upright, until his lower back crashed into the air hockey table. His back bowed, and he clawed at the demon’s wrist, trying to dislodge him.
