Daimon (Guardians of Hades #6) - Felicity Heaton Page 0,111
Eli.
Too late.
The daemon lay in a pool of his own blood, his eyes fixed on nothing.
He was gone.
Esher roared and grabbed the cage, shaking it hard, as if that would revive the dead daemon. Aiko tried to calm him, clinging to his arm and speaking to him in Japanese, fear and panic written across her face as she kept her eyes locked on Esher’s profile.
Ares levelled a black look on Keras, accusation in it that had Keras lifting his green gaze to him. Keras’s eyes darkened, a warning in them to his second in command, one that was apparently enough to have Ares backing down. Ares huffed and scrubbed a hand over his tawny hair, mussing it as his fiery gaze shifted to the dead daemon.
“Damn it,” he muttered, echoing the feeling Daimon had as he looked at the wraith.
Keras had pushed too far and now their shot at getting valuable information from the daemon was gone. It wasn’t like Keras to be so impatient. He looked back at his brother, trying to figure out what was wrong with him recently. Keras refused to meet his gaze, pushed to his feet and strode out into the waning night.
The wraith’s final words rang in Daimon’s mind.
They knew there were others on the enemy’s side, but it still felt like an ominous announcement.
The Erinyes were still alive, and if the two females had their way and got their hands on Cass, Esher would probably get his wish too—Eli would be alive again, reanimated by the enemy and Cass’s dark magic.
Daimon fixed his senses on her as she came to stand beside him, needing to know that she was safe.
He would keep her that way.
He wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
Esher stiffened, locking up tight.
“What’s wrong?” Daimon went to him and hovered his hand over his brother’s back.
Esher didn’t take his eyes off the daemon. Didn’t move a muscle.
“Penitence,” Esher whispered.
Nemesis was summoning him for punishment. Daimon couldn’t imagine what kind of torment he would receive as retribution for all the rules he had broken. Esher wouldn’t be strong enough to survive it, not without losing himself to his other side again.
“I’ll go,” Daimon said.
And stepped before Esher could stop him.
Chapter 31
Daimon landed beneath a dim shaft of light, surrounded by infinite darkness. He peered through the weak light, hating the way it stole his vision, making it hard to see into the shadows.
He wasn’t alone.
From those shadows, a haughty feminine voice echoed.
“You are not the one I summoned.”
“But I am the one you’ll punish.” Daimon stood his ground when a delicate foot clad in a blood-red sandal emerged from the darkness, followed by the soft sway of layers of sheer black fabric.
Nemesis’s scarlet eyes drilled into his face as she sashayed from the shadows, her face a placid mask that gave away none of her feelings.
Her eyes revealed them all.
She wasn’t happy that he had taken Esher’s place.
“So loyal to your brother,” she murmured and banked right, skirting the edge of the light, her gaze assessing him as it raked over him, sending a cold shiver down his spine. “I always did love that about you, Daimon.”
He shuddered at the sound of his name uttered on her vile lips.
He wanted to tell her to get on with things and announce the punishment he would receive for his brother’s apparent crimes, but knew better than to rush her. Rushing her normally ended with her doubling the punishment.
He preferred to keep the number of lashes in the four-digits area not push them into five.
He tracked her with his senses as she moved behind him, aware that moving would be a mistake. He had to endure this leisurely perusal of him, even if the feel of her eyes on him sickened him. She had always enjoyed tormenting him like this, always pointed out how handsome she found him, had even gone so far as propositioning him once.
Because the bitch was aware that in this world—the Underworld—his ice was no longer a problem and he could touch without hurting someone. She played on that, thought to goad him into surrendering to his base needs and letting them get the better of him, slaking a thirst for physical contact that he was denied in the mortal realm.
It was just another form of punishment.
She appeared to his right and he slid his gaze that way, tracked her as she moved around him and concealed the shudder that wracked him as she licked crimson lips.