Merger. Not something I really wanted to be doing with a demon spirit with a hankering for bloodshed, but I guess that option had gone out the window the minute I'd taken her steel and stabbed her into my flesh.
And, if I was being at all honest, for all my wariness about owning a demon sword, I really wouldn't want to be without her now. Having her so readily at hand had saved my ass more than once.
"I hope Hunter gets here quickly, then." I paused. "Or can you and Valdis hold the Jorõgumo yourselves?"
"We can kill her, but containing her as we are takes more strength and generally requires two swords." He grimaced. "They were never designed for this."
I guess they weren't—and they were doing it now only because Hunter wanted bloody revenge.
"Speaking of Hunter, she approaches the front door."
"Meaning we now have the problem of getting her into the house." As a vampire, she had to abide by the old "invite only" rule.
"Can she not telepathically order such an invite?" Azriel said.
"No. It has to be freely given."
The doorbell rang. I shot a look down the hall and saw her silhouette through the glass panes. "Now what do we do?"
"I would suggest you get the door open, Risa dearest," Hunter replied, proving the keenness of her hearing yet again. "Otherwise I will not be pleased."
"Kinda hard to do when the owner is unconscious." But I walked over and booted the cobwebbed heel of his shoes. "Hey, wake up."
He didn't flinch. I tried again, harder this time. Still nothing. "Can you wake him?" I said, glancing at Azriel.
"I shouldn't, but given the growing precariousness of the situation—" He paused, his expression one of concentration. After a moment, the shifter groaned and rubbed his eyes. Then he saw us.
"What the fuck?" He jerked upright abruptly. "Who the hell are you two? And what the fuck is that?"