He grabbed her arm at the same time the Daimon holding her let go.
Unwilling to go quietly to her slaughter, Cassandra reverted to her strict and intensive training. She stepped back into the arms of the Daimon behind her and brought her heel down on his instep.
He cursed.
She buried her fist into the stomach of the Daimon before her, then darted between the other two and headed for the door.
With his inhuman speed, the tallest Daimon cut her off halfway there. A cruel smile curved his lips as he pulled her viciously to a stop.
She kicked out, but he prevented her from hurting him.
"Don't." His deep voice was mesmerizing and filled with the promise of lethal harm should she disobey him.
Several people in the bar turned to look at them, but one vicious glare from the Daimon and they headed off.
No one would help her.
None dared.
But it wasn't over yet... She would never surrender to them.
Before she could attack again, the front door of the club swung open with an arctic blast.
As if he sensed something even more evil than himself, the Daimon turned his head toward the door.
His eyes widened in panic.
Cassandra turned to see what held him transfixed and then she, too, couldn't tear her gaze away.
The wind and snow swirled into the entranceway around a man who stood at least six feet six.
Unlike most people who walked around in ten-degree weather, the newcomer wore only a long, thin black leather coat that rippled with the wind. He had on a solid black sweater, biker boots, and a pair of tight black leather pants that hugged a lean, hard body that beckoned with wild, sexual promise.
He had the confident, deadly swagger of a man who knew he had no equal. Of a man who dared the world to try and take him on.
It was the gait of a predator.
And it made her blood run cold.
Had his hair been blond, she would have presumed him another Daimon. But this man was something else entirely.
His shoulder-length jet-black hair was blown back from a perfectly sculpted face that caused her heart to pound. His black eyes were cold. Steely. His face was set and impassive.
Neither pretty, nor feminine, the man was such a Powdered Donut, he wouldn't even have to share it in her bed!
Drawn like a homing beacon, and oblivious to the crowd in the bar, the newcomer swept his dark, deadly gaze from one Daimon to the next, until it settled on the one by her side.
A slow, evil smile spread over his handsome face, displaying the tiniest hint of fangs.
He headed straight for them.
The Daimon cursed, then pulled her in front of him.
Cassandra fought his hold, until he took a gun out of his pocket and held it to her temple.
Screams and shouts erupted in the bar as people ran for cover.
The other Daimons moved to stand by his side into what appeared to be a battle formation.