exited the room and entered a narrow hallway. Dim and airless, hardly any light penetrated it. Without any windows, it felt as if she had suddenly stepped into night. She put a hand to the wall and felt her way along, skimming the ripped plaster with trailing fingers. In the murky air, she detected what looked like a descending staircase at the far end. She made her way carefully, shivering in the cold, stale space.
She hardly noticed the change in the air at first. It was insidious, a subtle thread of warm air drifting and curling around her ankles, then easing up each calf. The heat expanded, a pleasant thing in this bitter cold. But still she shivered. It could mean only one thing. There could only be one source for the sudden heat.
Glancing down, her eyes rapidly scanned the area around her, registering only the murky gloom that pervaded the length of the corridor. The demon’s dark shadow might be hard to see, but she didn’t need sight to know he was here, that her demon had returned to claim her again.
She sensed him, felt him. Knew him as she knew herself.
Panic clawed up her throat. She turned, ready to run, flee. Where, she didn’t know. She wasn’t thinking rationally. She only knew she had to keep running.
A sudden crash sounded behind her and she risked a glance over her shoulder. A cry strangled in her throat at the sight that greeted her.
A lycan stood at the top of the stairs, all heaving muscle and sinew. Her first thought was Cyprian—until she recalled that he was dead now. That had been the deal. And upon further inspection, she saw that he looked nothing like Cyprian. He even held himself differently. Legs spaced apart in an oddly familiar way.
His eyes glowed across the distance at her. A bright, burning light within a sea of indigo.
Her pulse stuttered against her throat. “Niklas?”
She took a sliding step toward him, still uncertain. Niklas would never shift, never surrender to that part of himself. He’d made that abundantly clear.
He moved toward her, sinew rippling beneath bronze fur. He growled low in his throat, a noise that sounded suspiciously like her name. And there were those eyes again, drilling into her with familiar intensity.
“Niklas!” She surged forward. He’d found her! He’d come for her …
A dark wind swirled between them in the corridor, the hot air singeing her skin, reminding her that they weren’t alone.
“Niklas!” she cried, stretching out a hand as if she could reach him—or push him away. The impulses to do each warred within her. “Go! Run away, Niklas! It’s too late for me! Get out of here!”
His response was to pull a deadly-looking blade from a strap attached to his thigh. With a shout, he charged at the demon’s hazy shape.
“Niklas, no!” she screamed.
He didn’t stand a chance fighting a demon that was nothing more than shadow. Only she could see him—only witches and the rare few demon slayers.
And the only way a demon could be killed is through locating the mark of the fall on him and stabbing him there. An impossibility when Niklas could see only the vague, shadowy shape of him. Darby knew this. Niklas knew this, too. And yet he was here. Fighting an impossible battle for her. Why?
She supposed it should have thrilled her that he would do such a brave, reckless thing for her. And maybe some part of her was thrilled—but for the most part she was just terrified. She hadn’t sacrificed herself just to get Niklas killed, and that was what was going to happen if he didn’t leave.
“Niklas!” she shrieked. “Go! Get out of here!”
Niklas ignored her, swiping and plunging his blade into the demon’s writhing and swirling shape.
The demon flashed a grin of razor-sharp teeth. Evidently he enjoyed toying with Niklas and was in no hurry to take possession of her.
She wrung her hands in helplessness, felt despair squeeze her heart dry. At least the demon couldn’t harm Niklas—not while he was still a shadow. Cold realization washed over her then. But he could.
He could harm Niklas. He could kill him—through her. If he took possession of her, which he’d been about to do before Niklas showed up, he could then destroy Niklas.
Her eyes ached as she watched the scene play out before her—Niklas fighting what he couldn’t see and her nasty demon relishing every moment of it. It was only a matter of time before her demon tired of the