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Rhys fell back, blood dripping from his useless right arm. The abandoned supermarket where they’d finally cornered Apophis echoed with the sound of the fighting. Real fighting, not the over-the-top crap you see on TV. These sounds were more subtle. A soft thud. A grunt of breath. The smack of flesh meeting flesh. The occasional wet snap of a broken bone.
But it went on a hell of a lot longer than any fight scene in any human movie. That happened when most of the people doing the fighting were immortal, or close to it. Rhys picked up his sword with his left hand—it was going to take the right arm a while to heal. He’d already lost a lot of his reserve strength healing the dozens of other wounds he’d suffered tonight. The damned demon asshole wasn’t going down easy.
A blast of magic shook the walls and a ball of flesh and horns covered in what was once a hundred-thousand-dollar suit rolled across the floor to pitch up against the bank of old refrigeration units at his feet. White rolled to his feet with a snarl, baring his massive fangs. He’d started out playing nice, offering Apophis wealth, a job, status here in the Earth realm. But nothing moved that asshole, and it quickly became apparent he was getting a power boost from somewhere.
So far, the ward White had placed around the building to keep the slippery fucker in one place so they could reason with him or gut him was holding. But it wasn’t comforting to see how much of a beating the big, powerful Derek White was taking.
“We can’t keep this up forever,” Rhys said rolling his shoulders and hoping the splintered bone in his upper arm would heal straight. It was still bleeding, which wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he was more depleted than he thought.
“We can’t very well walk away and let this maggot carry out his plans,” the demon growled in a deep, smoky voice.
And that was the kicker. They really couldn’t. Because all the chaos that Apophis was spreading wouldn’t stay contained to one place.
“Dumuzi,” a cheerful, angelic voice called. “Where’d you run off to? I wasn’t done showing you how much I’ve learned since the last time we met.” The soft tap of his fancy dress shoes echoed around them. Were all demons as obsessed with designer clothing as White? And why the hell did a demon calling himself an Egyptian god look like a caricature of an angel? Rhys and Derek watched as the platinum-haired demon appeared at the end of the aisle. “Oh! There you are!”
Magic streaked from his hands, lighting crackling across the floor and crawling up the displays as it shot toward them. Derek stepped in front of Rhys, taking the brunt of the hit with his personal shields, grunting with the effort of displacing so much raw magical force.
“What do you want, Apophis,” Derek demanded, flinging the magic away with a sharp gesture from his claw-tipped red hand. “I tire of your games.”
The blond demon tilted his head to study his nemesis. “Do you? How troubling. I’m only getting started.” He flicked more magic at them, which Derek once again shunted away. “You see, when I’m done with this country full of stewing rage, there’s a whole planet just begging for my touch. And it’s all mine for the taking.”
Derek growled. Rhys read his intention and shifted to the left as Derek charged straight at Apophis. Rhys pulled on his vampire speed, moving like the wind to get behind Apophis. As a master vampire, he was faster than any other creature on Earth. But he was still too slow. His sword flashed, a powerful slash meant to behead the demon. But the asshole stepped aside just in time, slashing out with his own claws, raking Rhys’s belly, tearing through flesh, muscle, and into organs.
Rhys spun away, dancing out of range before the demon could go for his head. Apophis was enjoying fucking around with them, but he wouldn’t hesitate to kill them when given the chance. Especially Rhys. The vampire knew he was just a side character in the demons’ little drama. He stumbled, slipped in his own blood, but managed to take shelter behind a checkout counter.
Derek roared. More magic flew around. But Rhys couldn’t really focus. Black spots were starting to edge in on the sides of his vision and he saw flashes of pulsing red. Blood lust was hovering just out of range. He’d drained the two werewolf flunkies Apophis had with him earlier. But he’d sustained too many vital wounds since then. They needed to end this.
A clawed hand appeared by his head and Rhys flinched, but it was only Derek, bracing himself as he vaulted over the counter and landed in a graceful crouch next to Rhys. The vampire huffed. “Show off.”
“How bad is it?” the demon demanded, shoving Rhys’s hand aside so he could get a good look at his guts spilling out. “Son of a suckling bitch!”
Rhys chuckled, finding it hard to get air all of the sudden. “You’re telling me, big guy.”
He rolled his eyes when Derek got an arm under his shoulders and behind his knees and scooped him up into a bridal carry. But he couldn’t do much to protest. It was a wonder he managed to keep a grip on the hilt of his sword.
They sheltered in an employee breakroom, warded by yet another of Derek’s spells. Apophis raged and threw a tantrum out in the store, swearing and throwing things as he tried to break through Derek’s barrier.
Derek plopped Rhys’s ass on a table and shoved his knees apart so he could stand between them.
“Whoa there, demon. You have to at least buy me drinks first,” Rhys slurred, trying not to think about how much everything hurt. He could barely even move his arms. They felt like they had cinderblocks attached.
“Shut up,” Derek growled, fisting a hand in Rhys’s hair and pulling his head forward. One strong arm wrapped around his waist to keep him from topping over. “Heal.”
Rhys let out a puff of air that was meant to be a laugh but turned into a groan. “Aye-aye captain.” Not letting himself think about it too much—because he had never met anyone who had fed from a demon and lived to tell the tale—he opened his mouth and bit down, sinking his fangs into Derek’s throat.
Hot demon blood flooded him and he swallowed greedily, his body taking over so his idiot sensibilities didn’t keep him from taking what he needed. The power soaking into him was immense—almost too much. Derek’s big hands spasmed against him, squeezing his neck and hip, and he realized that he needed to concentrate. Focusing, he used a little bit of his renewed power to push pleasure through their connection, the way he normally would, to mask the pain of having your throat slit open. He was having difficulty thinking straight with all the power flooding his body and frying his synapses. Already he could feel the itch of his skin and blood vessels knitting back together, but he pulled deeper, addicted to the sensations that flowed through him like a constant feedback loop.
Derek groaned and pulled him closer, nearly crushing his newly healed body with that demon strength. The pleasure Rhys had pushed out crested between them. A full body shudder wracked the demon, and Rhys felt Derek’s surprise, pleasure, and embarrassment through their connection. His hands rose, no longer feeling weighted down, and he gripped Derek’s hips, forcing himself to pull back before he took too much.
The demon looked down at him with dazed red eyes, his dusky skin hiding his blush, but his harsh breathing giving him away. “Oops,” Rhys said with a grin. “Did I push a little too hard there, boss?”
Derek got control of his breathing and adjusted his probably damp trousers. “If we survive this,” he ground out in that basement bass of his, “you will live to regret that, bloodsucker.”
Rhys grinned as Derek untangled himself from the vampire. “Promises, promises.” Then his smile fell. “But seriously. What the fuck do we do now? You can’t hold him forever. And you can’t heal me indefinitely—even if you’re just dying for more of this.” He slid off the table and picked up his discarded sword as he felt Derek’s ward around the room ripple.
“You’re right,” Derek said darkly. “I can’t hold him forever. And there are some things even a bloodsucker can’t heal from.” He settled his stupid suit around himself like singed armor. “I will take down the ward around the building in ten seconds. Be ready to run.”
Rhys gaped at the demon’s broad back as he walked toward the door, knowing exactly what the demon intended. “What? Are you kidding me? No, White. That is not a plan!”
Derek wanted Rhys to run away and leave him here to fight against another demon who had clearly been juicing up somehow.
“Do as you’re told,” Derek growled, not looking back. His voice fell soft in the suddenly quiet room. “Troya needs you. I have built what I can for her and the others. I’m...expendable now.”
Rhys growled, speeding to Derek’s side as they left the room, his mind whirling. “You’re not expendable, moron. You’ve got a whole fucking county depending on you back home.” But he knew reasoning with the stubborn ass wouldn’t work. He was demon nobility, born and bred to rule. To protect. To refuse to listen to anyone. A crash sounded in the next room as Apophis tore the place apart. Well...some of them were bred that way. It seemed like that asshole was missing a few of the required chromosomes needed to reach White’s level of psychotic sacrifice and nobility.
“I’m not running away,” Rhys told the demon, still keeping pace with him as they approached the raging chaos lord.
“So be it,” Derek said tiredly. He glanced at Rhys, and for a just a moment, his expression softened. “You have served me well these past few years. I believe I got an unfairly beneficial bargain.”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “Is that the demon way of saying it’s been good to know you?”
Derek bowed his head briefly, his expression solemn. “Yes. It has been good to...be your employer.”
The vampire clapped the demon on the shoulder. “The word you’re looking for is friend, Derek. Companion, maybe? Who knows? Possibly more, if we weren’t about to die a horrible death at the hands of a jacked-up chaos demon.” He grinned and winked.
Derek just turned away. “Indeed.”
No sense of humor, that one. Rhys followed grimly behind him.
It wasn’t five minutes later that they were all in trouble. Rhys was bleeding again, and both the demons were singed and smoking from their magic clashing. Two broken femurs had Rhys sitting on the floor helpless while he slowly healed. He’d already burned through most of his demon-boosted snack. Meanwhile, Derek and Apophis rolled around the floor savaging each other with claws and teeth. Rhys wondered idly if he was the only person on Earth who had seen Derek in his true form. Because it was pretty damned impressive. Too bad he wouldn’t get a chance to brag.
The building was on fire, and he knew that Derek wouldn’t lift his ward until either Apophis was dead, or he was. Demonfire was a good way to ensure even an immortal burned.
The smoke was getting problematic, but for now, Rhys’s power kept healing the damage to his lungs. It wouldn’t do much once his body caught fire. But he’d lived a long life. Longer than he’d ever expected, back when he was human.
He couldn’t watch Derek get shredded anymore. He hadn’t been lying when he said he liked the guy. He closed his eyes and thought of Troy and Chike, trying to fill his mind with pleasant memories before he was finally snuffed out. His connection to them was so vivid that he swore he could hear their voices, especially Troya’s, calling him all sorts of names in that cute, angry voice of hers.
A hand clamped down on his shoulder and he opened his eyes, still lost in the memory of Troya’s taste. Would it be Derek come to save him from the smoke, or Apophis come to break him into tiny pieces and use him as kindling? At the moment, either option seemed equally cool. He was having trouble keeping his synapses firing.
He blinked blearily at the round face and messy brown hair that greeted him. “Seriously, vampire?” Troy demanded. “Both legs?”
“He just wanted to sit here while White did all the work,” Chike said, coming to squat next to Rhys. “Hey there, Fangy.” He coughed. “Nice digs you got here.”
Rhys shook his head, looking to Troy again. She was...glowing. And her eyes were a startling, constantly shifting rainbow of colors. She stood, braced her hands on her hips, and headed toward the sounds of two demons trying to tear each other apart.
“Troy!” He tried to get to his feet, but his legs weren’t quite finished healing. The right one snapped again, sending blinding pain through his body. “Fuck!”
Chike pushed him back down and grabbed Rhys’s face between his soft hands. “Hey! Sit the fuck down. Let her go.” He glanced back over his shoulder before continuing, his sparkling amethyst eyes full of wonder. “She’s got this.”
Orion Black appeared at Troy’s side as she got to the end of the aisle. Rhys blinked as the incubus stood back, following Troy like an obedient puppy, rather than rushing off to save his master the way he would have expected.
The tussling demons rolled past them and Troy closed her eyes, the aura around her swelling and foreign power rolling off her in Rhys’s vampiric second site. “White!” she called loudly. “Derek fucking White! You are stronger than that asshole. You’re faster. You’re more powerful. And you sure as fuck are going to win. Because I believe in you.”
Rhys looked at Chike. “What the hell?” he wheezed out. “Is this a Disney movie now? ‘I believe in you?’ Seriously?”
Chike gave him a wry half smile. “I know. It’s so dumb. But after the day I’ve had, I’m willing to just go with it.”
Rhys lifted an eyebrow and opened his mouth to ask just why the pretty little merman looked so smug. But just then, something weird and amazing, really, really dumb happened. Apophis rolled onto White, wrapping his hands around the other demon’s neck in an attempt to either choke him or rip his head off. He was so focused on what he was doing, that he didn’t even seem to realize that White had his hands on either side of Apophis’s head—not touching, just hovering. Casting a spell.
The blond demon reared back, suddenly wreathed in blue flames. As he scrambled back, screaming, Derek rose to his feet, his massive claws extended, and slashed through the air with all his demon speed and strength. Seconds before Derek would have beheaded him, the other demon suddenly turned to ash, collapsing into nothing.
Derek’s ward fell. Rhys felt him give one more massive push of magic, and the antiquated fire system sprang to life, showering them all with rusty water and dousing the now purely mundane flames.
Rhys watched as Troya approached the demon. Derek dropped to his knees and stared up at her in wonder, and Rhys’s sharp vampire eyes told him the big demon was...crying.
“Get up,” Troya said, reaching out a hand as that glowing aura around her faded. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, Dumuzi.”
He took her hand and stood. Then Troya smiled and turned away a little, motioning toward the incubus. “Well? You were so beside yourself. Come tell him how pissed you are that he risked his life. Then maybe flash those powers of yours at him. That’ll show his arrogant ass.”
Orion stiffly approached his employer. “I apologize for following you when you clearly didn’t wish it.”
Rhys thought the world might actually have ended, when Troya rolled her eyes and shoved the incubus into the bigger demon’s arms. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Then she left the two men to hug it out.
What in the world had he missed?
Chike pulled up his sleeve and held out his arm in invitation. “Top up so we can get out of here, and I’ll fill you in.”