I recognized it instantly from the training we’d started on demons, learning how best to defend against and defeat each type—or at least the ones we knew enough of.
It was round and squat but dense, its flesh pulsing with veinslike something barely contained inside its own skin. Its appendages were short and clawed, made only for rending. And its mouth—goddess, its mouth was too large for its face, unhinged and ringed with row upon row of needled teeth, black drool dripping from its gullet. Its tiny eyes glowed, slitted and red, soulless in their hunger.
Poppy screamed. A high, broken wail that cut through the night like a knife.
Yvonne clutched her tighter, her knuckles white, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She was frozen, caught in the primal kind of terror that roots you in place.
The demon twitched, tensing.
I didn’t think. I just moved.
27
The street performer’s whip lay abandoned on the ground, its handle still warm from his grip. I snatched it up and sprinted, shoving Yvonne and Poppy behind me just as the Thirst demon coiled to lunge.
The whip was heavier than the silk ribbons I used for dancing, but the motions were the same. Muscle memory took over. I twirled it above my head in a fluid arc, the supple metal snapping through the air like a blade.
“Looking for a dance partner?” I taunted, my voice steady despite the wild pounding of my heart.
The demon stilled, its grotesque head tilting, black drool stretching from its too-wide jaws. Then, with a guttural hiss, it lunged.
I cracked the whip forward, the steel slicing through the air before striking the demon’s thick, pulsing hide. It recoiled, not in pain but in surprise, slitted red eyes snapping to me with renewedhunger. I knew the whip wouldn’t take it down—but it could slow it.
That was all I needed.
I planted my feet, ready to strike again, and screamed over my shoulder, “Run!”
Yvonne hesitated, her wide eyes locked onto the demon, frozen between fear and instinct. Poppy whimpered in her arms.
I lashed the whip again, snapping it across the creature’s leering face. It shrieked, its grotesque mouth stretching wider, teeth gnashing.
“Now!” I barked. “Go!”
This time she moved, stumbling back only to freeze again.
Two more demons slithered out from the shadows behind her.
My stomach dropped. We were surrounded.
Rubi, what is happening?Flame’s voice crashed into my mind, frantic.They’ve locked my stall. I can’t get out. All of the tygers are in an uproar.
The tygers were all locked up? Blazing hell. Someone had planned this.
It’s all right, I lied, my voice even.I’ve got this.
My hand tightened on the whip. I definitely did not have this.
The demons closed in, their mouths stretching, that black drool dripping in long, glistening strings. Yvonne clutched Poppy tighter, her breath ragged, but I stayed in front of them as best I could.
One of the creatures lunged. I snapped the whip out, its tip slicing through the air, wrapping around a cluster of wriggling little appendages on its torso.
I yanked. The appendages ripped clean off. The demon shrieked, its severed limbs twitching on the ground like dying worms.
Another demon pounced. I barely twisted out of the way in time, slamming against a large block of stone fallen from thebuilding behind me, the thing’s claws raking through the space where I’d just been. It landed hard, but it was fast, faster than something that size should be.
Before I could snap my whip again, it lunged a second time.
I sprawled on the ground, dazed. My head swam, my limbs weak as I stretched for the whip again where I’d lost it.
