In that instant he knew what he could do to save her. There was one thing a demon and a Daimon had in common. One thing they both needed to thrive and survive.
A soul.
And while he may not have all of his, he had enough of one to entice them.
Fang threw his sword down into the black water. "Demons!" he shouted. "I have a soul for you! Come get some."
No sooner had the words left his lips than the sound of a thousand wings filled his ears. The stench of sulphur and demon body odor invaded his nostrils. He hated this. But he had no choice.
It was him or her and he wasn't about to let it be her.
"Are you out of your ever-loving mind?"
He scowled as a tall, lean man appeared beside him. Dressed in a bloodred cloak that covered black spiked armor, he had eyes so light a blue they were piercing. His brown hair was shoulder length with the front of it falling into those eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of eternity.
And a cruelty that was unrivaled.
Completely calm against the invading horde, he cocked one finely arched brow. "What are you trying to do?"
Fang refused to answer. "Who are you?"
One side of his mouth quirked up into a hint of a taunting grin. "At the moment, the only friend you have."
"Yeah, right."
The demons came rushing in.
Fang braced himself for their attack. "My soul is-" A muzzle appeared over his face.
The man winced. "Don't even say it, kid. You have no idea what it means to have your soul sold. Trust me. It ain't pleasant and you really don't want to offer it up to this bunch. Not when you can do so much better with it."
Fang glared at him as he blasted him.
He absorbed the blast without flinching or moving. "Don't waste the energy. It takes something a lot stronger than you to budge me." Turning around, he shot a bolt of fire at the demons.
Screeching, they retreated.
His face a mask of utter irritation, he pulled a small cell phone from his right greave and held it like a walkie-talkie. "Break them down and send them back."
"Do we have to be nice?" a thickly accented male voice asked.
"Hell, no. Make them suffer."
"Thanks, boss."
The man returned the phone to his armor and met Fang's baffled expression. "Oh. Sorry about the muzzle. But it was necessary to protect you from your own stupidity."
It vanished from Fang's face. He rubbed his jaw where it had been while he glared at the stranger who was too at ease with banishing demons. "Who the hell are you?"
The man laughed. "That's a little more astute than you realize. The name's Thorn and as I said, I'm the only friend you have right now."
"No offense, Misery told me that too and you can see how well that's turned out." He gestured toward the wounds that marred him from head to toe.
Thorn took the sarcasm in stride and returned it with some of his own. "Yeah, well in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Misery. At least not unless you get on my bad side. Then . . . well, let's just say those who go there don't enjoy the experience."
Fang ignored his warning though he could tell by his demeanor that being on Thorn's bad side could be dire indeed. "Then what are you?"
He lowered his cowl. There was an incongruous air around him. One of power and complete cruelty. Yet at the same time, it was as if he kept that under a tight leash. As if he were at war with himself.