“Spread out,” I murmured to my group. “We’ll box him in.”
We emerged from behind the rocks—me and the three new kids forming one side, with Marcus and his group forming another as Allie’s team cut off the way back to the boardwalk. Nine Hunters surrounding one demon.
Those were good odds—at least so long as he didn’t have friends lurking nearby.
“Hunters.” The demon’s smile wasn’t the welcoming kind, and the pleasant old man routine had evaporated completely.
“You didn’t do your homework,” I told him conversationally. There are a lot of Hunters in this town. You would have done better to pick a body in Los Angeles. Nobody would even notice a demon down there.” I flashed him my fakest smile, the one I had often used when forced to do something for the PTA. “You should keep that in mind for next time.”
The major bummer about corporeal demons is that once they’ve moved into a dead body, killing them doesn’t actually kill them. It just kicks them back to the ether where they can hang out and wait for a new body to slide into all over again.
Only killing a demon in its true form shuts them down completely. Which is one reason you rarely see demons in their true form. Demons really aren’t stupid. Plus, in their true form, they’re gnarly, scary-looking creatures, and they’d definitely stand out in a crowd.
Fortunately, a demon can’t easily slide into the body of someone faithful. That’s a good thing, as it really helps to keep the demon population under control.
I made a mental note to quiz the new kids about all of that. But later. Now really wasn’t the time.
“Bitch,” the demon snarled. “My master knows you, Katherine Andrews. Did you think he would never demand the debt be paid?”
My body went completely cold. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Plus, it was never good when a demon knew your name. For that matter, why did he know my maiden name? I would have still been training, and that was a lifetime ago.
Then again, that was the blink of an eye to a demon.
“Who are you?” I demanded, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he moved, and faster than a seventy-year-old body should be able to manage. He feinted toward me, then changed direction, heading for the weakest point in our circle—Sophie. The smallest, and the one he would assume most likely to freeze.
Unfortunately, he would also be right, because that’s exactly what Sophie did. She stood rooted to the spot, her eyes wide, her stiletto clutched in a white-knuckled hand as the demon barreled toward her.
“Move!” I shouted, already running—but Trevor got to her first.
I don’t know where it came from—the sullen kid who’d barely spoken two words since arriving, the one who seemed determined to hate everything about this life. But when Sophie needed him, something clicked. He threw himself between her and the demon, his body a human shield, his blade coming up in a wild, desperate arc.
It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. The stiletto caught the demon across the forearm, slicing deep enough to spray blood across the sand.
Messner howled and recoiled. Trevor stumbled but managed to keep himself planted between Messner and Sophie.
“Move,” he yelled.
That snapped her out of it. She scrambled backward, grabbing for the weapon she’d dropped. The demon started to lunge again?—
And Allie was there.
She came in low and fast, sliding across the sand like she was stealing home plate. Her feet swept the demon’s legs out from under him, and he went down hard. Allie was back on her feet before he hit the ground, dancing out of reach with a grin on her face.
“All yours!” she called to the students.
But the demon wasn’t done. He rolled and came up snarling—and found himself surrounded—Marcus and me blocking the path to the water, Ren and Ana flanking wide, and Mindy and Eliza near the rocks. Trevor was still guarding Sophie, his jaw set. Zane was right there, too, his stiletto out and his focus on the demon.
Messner’s gaze swept the circle, clearly looking for the best way to bolt. His eyes landed on Zane, and he stopped, probably assessing his options. He shifted, his mouth opening as if he was gulping in air or about to shout out for any demonic compadres that might be lingering about.
He never got the chance. Instead, Zane rushed him, crossing the distance like he’d been shot out of a cannon. One second, he was by the rocks. Next, his stiletto was buried to the hilt in the demon’s eye.
The demon didn’t even get a squeak out as it returned to the ether, and Harold Messner’s body crumpled to the sand, empty now, the thing that had been wearing him banished back to whatever hell it had crawled out of.
“Holy shit,” Ren said, which pretty much summed it up.
Zane pulled his blade free and wiped it clean on the demon’s Hawaiian shirt. When he looked up, he was wearing that easy smile again. “Sorry. It looked like he was going to bolt.”
“Nothing to apologize for. That was good work.”
