blood rushed back to her fingers and toes, and it hurt like a motherfucker. Ignoring the pain, Devon acted fast. She released her hold on the dark power that waited to attack. As smooth, fluid, and fierce as a wildcat, it lunged at him, encased his entire body, and seized him in a crushing vice-like grip.
Eyes wide, jaw tense, he drew in a shocked breath. Before he could even think of retaliating, the power squeezed and contracted around him like a snake, exerting more and more pressure on his body and insides. He yelled in agony as bones cracked, veins popped, and skin split.
Her demon’s grin was somewhat feral as it observed the nauseating sight he made. The whites of his eyes had reddened, blood was leaking from his ears and mouth, and broken bones were protruding through his skin. Merciless, the power kept on squeezing and crushing him until, finally, his brain exploded inside his skull and he toppled off the stool. Like that, the vapor dissipated.
Devon pushed off the chair and strode toward him, rolling her stiff shoulders and examining the chafed skin of her wrists. Bastard. She looked down at where he lay, his bloodshot eyes open and vacant, his body an unholy mess. He’d suffered excruciating pain—there was no doubt about it. And she couldn’t find it in herself to give a rat’s ass.
“Told you that you made a mistake when you took this job. People never listen to me. Why is that?” She tossed a high-voltage ball of hellfire at the little bastard and didn’t move from the spot until he was nothing more than mere ashes. Satisfied, she nodded. Now where the fuck was the phone?
*
Standing in the watch room of the old lighthouse, Tanner scraped his hand over his jaw. He wasn’t by any means squeamish, and he’d seen worse sights than this. But there was nonetheless something very disturbing about seeing a dead body propped up against a wall, his legs crossed, drenched in blood, holding his eyes, tongue, and ears in his hands.
Outside, sea birds squawked, the wind bounced off the walls, and the rotating light at the top of the lighthouse flashed continuously. Inside, there was only silence as he and the two other demons in the room circled and studied the body.
“Fuck,” Tanner finally said.
“Yeah, fuck,” said Knox.
“How long has he been dead?” Tanner asked Levi since, as a reaper, the sentinel had a certain affinity for the deceased.
Crouched beside the corpse, Levi replied, “Just over an hour. It wasn’t the wounds or blood loss that killed him. He died of a heart attack—one that was brought on by preternatural causes.” The reaper looked from Knox to Tanner. “Know anyone who has that ability?”
“No,” said Knox.
Tanner shook his head, staring once more at the body. Harry Tomlinson had been a member of their lair whose specialty lay in espionage, which was why he’d acted as a spy for Knox. He’d telepathically contacted the Prime a few hours ago, asking Knox to meet him at the lighthouse—it was the same location they always met at when Harry had important information to share.
After his business meeting was over, Knox had pyroported himself, Tanner, and Levi to the lighthouse … only to discover Harry dead. Knox’s ability to travel by fire was a secret that only a select few people knew of. Although Tanner acknowledged that it was smart to keep people guessing just how powerful you were, he knew it would drive him crazy to mostly use normal means of transport if he could just pyroport wherever he wanted.
His inner demon, by nature, was no more patient than Tanner. Right then, it didn’t want to hang around the lighthouse. It itched to track down whoever had ravaged Harry this way—hunting was what the hound did best.
“This was done to Harry before his death,” said Tanner. “The scent of his blood is strongly tainted by pain, fear, fury, and helplessness.”
“How many other people were here?” asked Knox.
“Just one. A demon. Their scent … it’s earthy but wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“Some people have scents that are floral. Others are fruity. Or sweet. Or spicy. Or earthy. The list goes on. This demon smells of autumn leaves and sandalwood, but there’s a single, small note to their scent that’s off. Like … have you ever tasted something you usually enjoy but, for some reason, it just doesn’t taste right? Like someone put a spice in it that didn’t need to be there, or one