Instead, Stephen hunched his back more and more, his body quivering and spastic tics ravaging his form at preternatural speed. Stephen's back throbbed and rose as if he was the hunchback of Notre Dame, and Kilian was still trying to understand what he was looking at when flesh ripped through the fabric of his shirt and wings burst into view. They were feathered, white and iridescent in the sun that filtered through the stained glass. Their beauty transfixed Kilian. Fuck. The gnarled joints, the black veins—the demon had played a game with them.
Demons were pure magic; the form they took depended on the expectations of others, and Kilian only knew of one community that focused on the beauty of demons. Others probably existed, but in America, a beautiful demon had only one likely source.
The demon shook, resembling a dog coming out of water, and Stephen’s blood hung in the air like a red mist. As it settled, tiny blood droplets stained the polished wood. “Much better. I was so cramped in there.”
“Out demon, in the name of Jesus Christ, I cast you from this sacred place!”
Kilian fell to one knee as the words slammed into him, clinging to the pew to keep himself upright. The priest who had met them at the back door stepped into the cathedral, holding a Bible toward Stephen. “In the name of Jesus Christ, be gone.”
Stephen's laugh was raw and brittle. “Why would I listen to you?”
“I cast you out in the name of the Lord,” the priest said, “in the name of the creator, the one true God, he who fashioned Adam and Eve. In his name, the God of Moses and the God of Abraham, I cast you from this place.”
Stephen snarled, fangs almost vampiric.
“Leave, priest, before I kill you.” Despite the bravado, his unnaturally long fingers trembled. That was all the confirmation Kilian needed. Stephen’s demon was a perverted child of Christianity, shaped by the Christian belief that evil presented itself in beautiful forms.
“My God will not allow you to kill me,” the priest said confidently.
“Do not put so much faith in your God,” Stephen snarled. “I will drive you insane and feast off the evil you will do in your madness. I will relish knowing the God I hate will suffer through his servant’s anguish.”
Kilian's terror caught in his throat. Christianity was such a young religion that the demons spawned from it were too young to break through the veil. That was accepted lore.
“How?” Kilian asked.
Stephen’s familiar brown eyes were now filled with malice. “I am something insanely dangerous because I am young. I am not so tied up in the fears and rituals of all those foolish old demons. They thought that made me weak. They thought that because I was small and young I would be easy to control.
“That's what Susan Nguyen thought when she barred the door to any old demons. She thought I would be malleable, and I showed her what young and nimble can accomplish. It's not about raw power; it’s about finding new ways to wield power.”
Stephen lifted a hand toward Kilian. “You are beautiful and strong. You have survived what others would not. And you have fought back the madness that would’ve taken the weak. You enjoy this body, and Stephen enjoys yours. Join me and I won't shred him as I rip my way free.” Deceptively slender pearlescent claws grew from Stephen’s long fingers.
Kilian threw himself forward, desperate to get his claws or fangs into the demon before it could kill Stephen. Now that they knew the cultural origins of the demon, Mia could exorcise it. Fuck, they were in a fucking Christian church with a fucking priest ten feet away. He could exorcise it. Kilian turned to the priest, but before he could ask for help, Stephen threw his hand out like a baseball player. The priest was flung back against the wall, and a wet sickening crackle filled the air before blood leaked from his eyes.
Stephen chuckled before he turned his attention back to Kilian. “The gods might protect souls, but they are amazingly negligent of human bodies. I promise you I will be far more careful with this body.” Stephen ran a deformed hand over his chest and down to cup his cock. “You never need to fear doing me harm. You could feast from me for eternity without ever draining my magic, and I will feed you well. Stephen's voice had such a cajoling tone. Kilian could almost believe the demon wanted him. However, the priest's lifeless body, crumbled like a paper doll, was a sick monument to the demon’s cruelty.
Kilian could not tie himself to that sort of evil.
He took a step forward. “If you are a Christian demon, then you’re young. These priests can hurt you. Mia can hurt you. You say that the other side of the veil is boring. You should flee back there before any of your enemies catch up to you now that they know your secret.”
Stephen laughed. “They don't know my secret. You do. And if you attempt to betray me, you would not last as long as the priest.” He tapped a claw against the corner of his mouth. “Or perhaps youwouldlast longer. Perhaps you would last for hours or days. I could trap you in the emptiness of the veil between this world and the next and listen to your screams. It would be so much better than boredom.” His smile grew beatific.
Kilian lunged forward again, and again Stephen danced back, his maniacal laugh echoing from the church walls. Kilian was too slow, too weakened by the symbols around him. He needed his sire. Silas would be a match for a demon this young.
“Don't make me hurt you.” Kilian inched forward, forcing Stephen towards the altar.
Stephen backed up one step at a time, and now that Kilian knew his secret, he could see the way Stephen avoided looking at the windows or the crucifix or the altar, just like Kilian. The cathedral made him weak as well, which meant Stephen could still survive if Kilian could stop the demon before it escaped these walls.
“There is nothing wrong with pain,” the demon said in a pitying voice. “We’re cousins.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Kissing cousins, even. Have you not learned the glory of pain? Why do you avoid the gifts that Judas has blessed you with? You have his god-power. Demand the world bow to you. I could teach you to command legions. I could teach you so much.” The demon twitched its body, one hand running up its side in a move that would have been seductive if Stephen had used it.
“Judas lives with us beyond the veil. His whispered torments and delicious grief have birthed creatures that this world is not prepared for. We could usher in a new age.” He lowered his voice to a graveled whisper. “Think about it. Judas's spiritual children from beyond the veil and those born of his blood could strip humans of their illusion of control, flay this mad construct humans have built atop the pure magic that is our birthright.”
Stephen held his hand out and Kilian inched forward. They were so close to the altar. Kilian needed to grab the trap door that he knew was there. “You're mad! You would undo the fibers of reality?” he asked. He needed to keep the demon focused on him.
“I would unpick the tapestry of illusion that has been plastered over reality’s raw power.” Stephen's voice rose to a shout, and a door slammed open.
Kilian glimpsed a priest holding a Bible up like a shield, but the man didn’t manage a single word before Stephen flung his hand up. The priest's body twisted and snapped like a bundle of dried twigs. Stephen made a fist and jerked his hand back, and the broken bits of the priest's body were flung about the Cathedral, his blood leaving trails like a macabre garland.
This was Kilian's best opportunity. He dove forward. When Stephen danced to the side, Kilian tackled the altar, using all his strength to shove it away. His flesh burned. The scent filled his nostrils and the air of the cathedral. But he could not hesitate.
