Before we can take more than a couple of staggered steps, a projectile hits him at high speed, directly in his face. It flaps around wildly and he shrieks as something attacks him.
It’s... a pigeon.
One that seems to have a taste for eyeballs.
I yank my arm away while simultaneously summoning my magic and blast a wave of confusion at him. I stagger out of his reach, clutching my side as he continues to howl, covering his face with both arms and sinking to his knees.
Dorian sprints toward me, placing his body between me and the Herald as Iri, Cal and Micah charge up to me and I’m scooped up into strong arms.
“Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” Cal rumbles, frantically touching me everywhere.
I wince as he makes contact with my torso, pulling up my shirt to reveal an inch long cut that’s not too deep but is bleeding all down my side.
Cal freezes and I grip his arm as his expression turns murderous.
“Don’t. We’re in public.”
“Your first mistake was being a greedy prick,” Dorian spits at a cowering Cedar Orlog. “Your second was exploiting this beautiful woman here. And your last mistake was touching what’s mine.”
He doesn’t hesitate to remove his shades, hitting the Herald with a full blast of his gaze, freezing him in place on his ass, with the pigeon still going nuts at his face.
He’s covered in gashes and bleeding profusely.
When it starts to go for his eyes, Iri gently traces his finger along my jaw, twisting my head so I can’t see what’s happening and inspecting my wrist like he thinks I might break.
“He hurt you.” His voice is a guttural growl.
I rub my slightly reddened wrist. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going to tear his fucking head off.”
“No. You’re not.” A sandpaper rough voice sounds from behind us. Peering past Cal’s massive arm, I see a huge midnight blue skinned demon approach. Iri shifts so he’s standing between me and the other demon.
The air around the demon shimmers with a faint blue light and he smirks at me.
“You Scourge?” Iri’s words are clipped, like he’s two seconds from losing his shit.
The demon nods and claps Iri on the shoulder, giving me a brief nod in greeting before inspecting the frozen form of the Herald.
“Took you fucking long enough to arrive,” Iri growls.
The demon ignores him. “Huh, you could come in handy if you ever get bored with prancing around on stage and want a proper gig,” he tells Dorian, who just shakes his head.
“No. Thanks.”
Scourge shrugs his massive shoulders and hefts the Herald to his feet. “Well, thanks for the assistance. I think I’ve got this from here.”
I watch in slightly stunned silence as he drags the Herald along the ground by his ankle.
“Aren’t people going to notice... that?”
Scourge turns around and winks at me, causing Iri and Cal to let out low warning growls.
“Nah. No one in the vicinity will remember anything that happened in the past ten minutes, other than you fine folks.”
That’s an interesting power to have.
It makes me wonder—
