Zylas took form almost on my toes, his back to me as he faced the showerhead. The water ran red with blood.
His legs buckled.
I grabbed his shoulders but his weight dragged me down too. I thumped onto my butt, the demon half in my lap, his head against my shoulder and his back between my legs. Water cascaded over his torso, blood running everywhere. Steam rose from the spray and wherever the blood-stained liquid touched me, it burned.
With effort, I propped him up to get his face out of the water. “Zylas?”
A muscle in his cheek twitched but he didn’t open his eyes. “It is hot.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He lay limply as the water washed over him. My gaze darted across his torso, trying to assess the severity of his injuries, but I couldn’t begin to guess. Five punctures straight through his abdomen, four deep tears in his upper arm, and shallow slices across his chest, nearly cutting through the leather straps of his armor. And who knew how much internal damage from impacts? A terrifying amount of blood was swirling down the drain.
“Zylas …” I swallowed against the catch in my throat. “Will you survive?”
“You will not be rid of me this easily,” he growled.
“I’m not trying to get rid of you.” A sob built in my chest, fueled by guilt and furious regret. “I’m so sorry.”
He watched me through half-lidded eyes the color of cooling coals. “Sorry?”
“I thought you could beat him. I thought it would be easy for you. If I’d realized … I never would’ve tried to get you to fight him.”
“Easy?” His mouth contorted with disgust. “You are zh’ūltis. Can you not see?”
“See what?”
He twitched his hand to indicate his body. “Why would you think I am stronger?”
“But … but you said …”
He pulled himself upright and leaned against the shower wall, one leg hooked over the tub’s edge. Resting his head against the tiles, he fixed a cold, indecipherable stare on me. “Tahēsh is Dīnen of the First House. I am Dīnen of the Twelfth House. I am the weakest of them all.”
My throat closed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve realized you had no chance against Tahēsh.”
“No chance? Insulting me more, payilas.” A hint of crimson glowed in his dark eyes. “I can kill anything. Any of them. I did not become Dīnen by losing. I survive because I never lose.”
“But you just lost really badly.”
“Kanish!” His hand snapped out and he sank his fingers into my hair. Teeth bared, he yanked my face toward his. “You are the reason I lost! You forced me to fight him when I could not win!”
I trembled, afraid to blink. He wasn’t hurting me—but he wanted to. I could see it in his face, in the twist of his lips, in the curved canines that could rip through my soft skin with ease. Terror gripped my body like icy talons.
He released me and slumped backward. Tilting his face into the water, he closed his eyes.
I sucked in air to calm my palpitating heart and mumbled, “I don’t understand.”
He shifted more under the hot spray. The water wasn’t running as red now.
I tried again. “You said you never lose, but you also said you couldn’t win against Tahēsh.”
“Winning,” he growled softly, “and not losing are different things. If you lose, you die.”
I exhaled slowly. “So you never lose? How?”
“If I am not certain I can win, I do not fight—and I wait. That is how I have survived the other Dīnen.”
“What do you wait for?”
“Dh’ērrenith. It means … assured victory.” His eyes opened, luminous scarlet. “I wait until they are weak, distracted, injured, alone. I wait until they have forgotten to watch for me. I wait until I can strike from behind, from above, from wherever they do not see me. And I kill them. I never lose.”
I stared at him, chilled despite the hot water.
“Until you,” he added with a sneer. “Now I have lost.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I made a mistake.”
He ignored me.
Swallowing, I climbed out of the tub, water dripping from my drenched clothes. I pulled a towel off the rack, grabbed my phone, and left Zylas to soak up the shower’s heat.
Shivering in the cool air outside the bathroom, I sent a quick text to Amalia, telling her I was back at the motel and wouldn’t be returning to help with the demon hunt. Then, casting wary looks toward the bathroom, I hastily shed my wet clothes, dried off, and pulled on yoga pants and a