“Magic, o’course,” I said, slinging the Demonkin onto the bed. He made a sound in the back of his throat, but otherwise he didn’t budge. Lazy bastard. Ignoring him, I grabbed the dead man by the door, then hauled him over so that he lay next to his unholy brother. Next, I pulled soil and herbs from the pouches on my belt, then sprinkled them over the bodies. This sort of thing was always best done outdoors, in a field, where the bodies were closest to Gaia, but even though I’d put the other guests to sleep, I didn’t want to risk someone stumbling across the ritual.
I could feel Arabella’s eyes on me as I knelt on the floor by the heads of the bodies, but I ignored her. Druid magic could be finicky, and it required absolute focus. Taking a deep breath, I pressed one hand to each of the Demonkins’ chests, then began to chant the words of the spell that would return them to the earth. With closed eyes, I visualized drawing Gaia’s power out of the ground and into my body so I could pass it into these unfortunate bastards. It came slowly at first, just a whisper of strength, but gradually grew stronger as I pulled more from the well. The bodies began to tremble beneath my hands, and Arabella gasped as I pushed the power into them. Their bodies began to crumble, transforming into something very different, until my hands were pressing not against flesh and blood, but freshly turned soil.
“You… you turned them into dirt?” Arabella asked, sounding stunned. I opened my eyes to see her standing by the foot of the bed, staring at me as if seeing me for the first time. “Can… can you do that to living people?”
I shook my head. “Only to the dead. The living tends to fight back when they’re being turned into soil,” I joked, rising to my feet.
Arabella pressed her lips together, not biting on my attempt at levity. Her normally tanned skin was ashen, and it occurred to me that she’d probably seen more death and destruction today than she’d ever seen before—at least, as far as she could recall.
“Lass,” I said, approaching her as one might a skittish animal. “I ken that this is a lot to process, but under the circumstances, we can’t go slowly. Not while these unholy scum are hunting ye.”
“Yeah, I get it.” She scrubbed her hands over her face, and a sense of helplessness overtook me at the despair in her eyes. Gaia help me, but I didn’t want to see this woman hurting. I wanted to take her into my arms and kiss her until she forgot her fears. Slide those clothes off her body and replace them with my hands and mouth, until all she knew was my name, and not a trace of the nightmares haunting her eyes remained.
But I couldn’t. Keeping my distance was the only way I could ensure she remained safe.
“I just wish I knew why they were after me,” she finally said in a hollow voice.
“Ah. Well that, I can help ye with.” I turned back to face the unconscious Demonkin lying on the bed. “We’re going to wake him up now, and squeeze him a bit. Are ye ready for this, or do ye need some more time?”
Arabella lifted her chin. “No,” she said, resolute. “I want to find out what these assholes want. Let’s give this guy hell.”
I grinned at the determined spark in her eye. The Sentinel was back. Glancing around the room, I decided the radiator was the best place to tie up our new friend, so I hauled him over to it, then used the sheets to tie him to the rusty metal box. They were cotton, which was good as I held a little bit of sway over natural fabrics. A few words and a bit of power were all it took to bind the Demonkin to the sheets, and then the sheets to the box. None of the three would part without my permission.
“Do ye want to wake him, or would ye prefer I do the honors?” I asked.
Arabella eyed him speculatively for a moment. The fear from earlier was gone—she was all calm, collected rage now. “I think I’ll do it.”
I stepped back as she sauntered over to the unconscious man, and damned if she didn’t look sexy as hell when she was hot and bothered like this. She got down on her knees so that she was eye level with the bastard, then slapped him across his sorry face.
“Oww!” The Demonkin’s eyes popped open, completely human now. There was no trace of glowing red in those hazel depths as they darted between Arabella and myself. Fear filled his thin face, and he began to tremble. It was pathetic. “Where am I? What are you doing to me? Let me go!”
“No.” Arabella’s tone was sharp, like a whip crack. “Not until you tell me why Lucas is after me.”
“How the hell should I know?” he yelled. “And who the fuck is Lucas? Is he the one they were so afraid of? Is he the one who put that thing in me?”
I frowned. This man certainly was not acting like a Demonkin. And like the two back in the warehouse, these three had felt off. What was it that made these bastards so different from the rest of their unholy brethren?
“Were you ordered to burn my house down, when you couldn’t find me in it?” Arabella hissed, coming so close that her nose nearly brushed against the quaking man. I supposed I couldn’t blame the sorry ass—the look in her eyes could melt flesh. “Is that why your friends burst in here to try to kill me?”
“Not me,” the man scoffed, as though such a notion were absurd. “I just watched. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even talk. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. That monster was inside of me, pulling the strings.” Tears formed in his eyes. “I have children. Please…”
Arabella’s shoulders tensed, her gaze hardening. “You’re lying,” she said, but the steel in her voice was tempered with doubt. She shot me a questioning look, and I stepped in, wanting to probe this anomaly with a few questions of my own.
“Ye ken what a Sentinel’s weapon does to yer kind, do ye not?” I asked, folding my arms and settling in front of the liar. “If it strikes a fatal blow, yer demon is destroyed, and ye will never be able to merge with another one again. Ye can no longer wield the power of hell.”
“Really?” Tears of what looked like joy filled the man’s eyes, and I stared, dumbfounded. “Oh, thank God! I was beginning to think I’d never be free! Are you telling me the truth? Is he really gone?” The man tried to reach for his face, but the restraints blocked him. “Please, let me go! My wife and children must be worried sick—I need to get home to them!”
Arabella and I exchanged a look. “Are… are you saying that you were bound to that demon against your will?” she asked carefully.
“Of course I was!” the man cried. “Who on earth would willingly let a demon into their body? It was the most terrible thing I’ve ever experienced, having that unholy thing control me. I… I’ve done such terrible things because of it.” More tears coursed down his cheeks, and he hung his head. “I don’t know if God will ever forgive me,” he added in a small voice.
“Oh my God,” Arabella breathed. She turned back to me, her eyes wide with horror. “Did… did we just kill innocent people?”
I could only stare. By the gods, these men hadn’t been Demonkin? They’d simply been poor souls, trapped in their own bodies as a demon possessed them? “Gaia save us,” I breathed as guilt slammed into my chest with the force of an anvil dropping from the sky. No wonder these men had seemed off to me. They weren’t Demonkin at all. “We need to untie this poor fellow. Now.”
I snapped my fingers, and the restraints loosened enough for the man to sag against the radiator. Arabella and I each grabbed an arm and lifted him, then sat him onto the bed. He hunched over, staring at his upturned hands as if he was seeing them for the first time.
“What’s your name?” Arabella asked gently, sitting down on the bed beside him.
