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The light returned, surrounding Simon.
He tensed, bracing himself for an attack he couldn’t prevent. The light slid into his chest and he screamed, fire scorching the knife wound. He arched off the floor, every muscle clenched and shaking. Without warning the light jerked free. Simon collapsed, aware he may not survive another invasion.
Anger edged his captor’s voice, scraped over his skin.
“Why can I not take you? You are bound, helpless, a shell. I should be able to...” The voice faded, and light curled around his throat. Simon stared at the face that appeared over him. An achingly beautiful face, never meant to been seen by the human eye. “You are bound, to him—why? He is a mortal, he has no power to hold you.”
Simon blanked his mind, all his focus on the dark ceiling. This creature would not find out the truth from him.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—” A raw cry cut him off, as the light twisted into his wound.
“What is he to you?”
“Nothing.” Simon ground the word out, shaking with the effort to stay conscious. He could feel Zach; the boy was nearby, and moving closer. Simon couldn’t stop him, but he could warn him—as long as he was awake to do so.
“I will find the truth. You can only hide your thoughts for so long, mortal. I will have them, then I will have you.”
The light surrounded him again—and Simon screamed as fire consumed him.