Grayson and Kearan, though still under my command, somehow looked less terrified of Cerbie than the ST5 members. There was recognition in their eyes.
The demon tried to back away, but Cerbie was too fast. In a blur of movement, the hellhound lunged, knocking the possessed woman to the ground and pinning her beneath massive paws. Three sets of jaws hovered inches from her face, teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light.
"I'm sorry!" the demon shrieked, its bravado evaporating. "I submit! I submit completely!"
The black smoke began to recede from the woman's eyes, retreating back into her subconscious rather than abandoning her body entirely.
"Please," the demon begged, "mercy, my lady. I was desperate. The Soul Ring called to me. I couldn't resist its pull."
Cerbie growled, one head lowering to press teeth against the woman's throat. The message was clear: one wrong move, and those jaws would close.
As the demon retreated, my command over the humans in the room weakened. They unfroze gradually, slumping against tables or staggering as control returned to their limbs. Wasn't it just a few days ago that I would have considered myself also human? Weird how things had changed so much in so little time.
The possessed woman's eyes cleared completely, returning to their natural brown. Awareness dawned on her face, followed immediately by terror as she registered the enormous hellhound pinning her to the floor.
"Oh, my god!" she screamed, thrashing beneath Cerbie's weight. "Help me! Get it off! GET IT OFF!"
Her screams ignited fresh panic in the room. The two ST5 members who had tried to protect her backed away, faces pale with horror. The other two were still huddled by the door, looking like they might faint at any moment.
Kearan didn't hesitate. He lunged for a red button on the wall—one I hadn't even noticed until his hand slammed against it. Immediately, steel shutters slammed down over the windows. The main door sealed with a pneumatic hiss. Red emergency lights bathed the room in an eerie glow as alarms began to wail throughout the compound.
"Lockdown initiated," announced a mechanical voice over the speakers. "This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."
"Parker," Kearan said, his voice cutting through the chaos with calm authority, "we need to secure the demon before the Division sends in a containment team."
Grayson was already moving, pulling specialized restraints from a hidden compartment in the wall. "These should hold it, even if it tries to take control again."
The woman's screams had devolved into hysterical sobbing. Cerbie, responding to some unspoken command, eased his weight off her but remained close, all three heads watching her every move.
Mephistral perched on my shoulder, unusually subdued. "That one's been corrupted for a while," he whispered in my ear. "The demon's been riding her for months. Probably the moment they were assigned to retrieve the artifact."
My stomach twisted with the realization. How long had the demon been gathering information? How much did it know about our operations? About me? And who was it giving the information to?
As Grayson secured the woman's wrists and ankles with the specialized cuffs, I felt the last of my demonic power fade away, leaving me hollow and exhausted. The strength that had surged through me just minutes ago was gone, replaced by a bone-deep fatigue that made my knees weak.
I staggered, catching myself against the table.
"Parker?" Kearan was at my side instantly, one hand on my elbow, the other against my back. "What's wrong?"
"The power," I managed, my voice sounding distant and weak even to my own ears. "It's gone. Completely gone."
Grayson's gaze met mine across the room, concern etched into every line of his face. "We'll figure this out," he promised.
The alarms continued to wail, drowning out the woman's sobs and the panicked whispers of the remaining ST5 members. Cerbie stood guard, three heads swiveling to watch every corner of the room. Mephistral's weight was oddly comforting on my shoulder, a small point of warmth in the chaos.
I leaned into Kearan's support, too drained to pretend I didn't need it. The demon's words echoed in my mind, a threat and a promise: In a few more hours, you won't be able to command a housefly, let alone one of my kind.
And I was terrified it might be right.
CHAPTER 18
OOH, I LOVE WATCHING HUMANS SQUIRM IN BUREAUCRATIC LIMBOS!
Exhaustion pulled at me, dragging me down into a pit of emptiness where my power had burned so brightly just minutes before. Kearan's arm tightened around my waist, his warmth the only solid thing in a world suddenly gone liquid and uncertain. The possessed ST5 operative thrashed against her restraints, black smoke oozing from her pores like toxic sweat, her screams harmonizing with the Division's warning systems in a hellish chorus that made my skin crawl.
"They're coming," Grayson's voice sliced through the chaos, his body tensing as he moved between me and the door. "Division security. A lot of them."
Kearan's fingers dug deeper into my side. Not painful… protective. "Parker stays with us. The demon stays with Parker."
