The light stayed on. Maybe she’d fallen asleep. Maybe she was reading.
Maybe he shouldn’t care.
He finally lay down on the sofa, making sure he was positioned so he wasn’t looking toward her room, since he felt ridiculous enough wondering what she was doing.
But he wasn’t at all tired-which is why he heard the click of the door opening to her room. Senses on full alert, he wished he hadn’t been so goddamned stubborn and had turned around to watch her bedroom. Was that her coming out, or someone going in?
He tightened his grip on the hilt of the knife at his belt, waiting and listening. Whoever or whatever it was crept closer to him. He could hear breathing, low to the ground, approaching the sofa where he lay.
In two seconds someone or something was going to be face-to-face with him.
He clenched the knife.
He was ready.
CHAPTER NINE
Ryder.”
He exhaled when he realized it was Angelique. He took his cue from her and didn’t move. “Yeah,” he whispered back.
“I heard something at the window to my room.”
“Back up.”
She inched over and he took a slow roll off the sofa, using his hands to break his fall so he made no noise. They lay side by side, flat on their bellies, while Ryder studied the hallway and her room.
Deathly silence filled the air, the two of them barely breathing. He strained to hear noises around them, anything that would signal something out of the ordinary.
He waited for a crash through the window or door, but it didn’t happen. Instead, a mist began to materialize at the bedroom door, a slow appearance of white smoke, drifting upward from the floor.
“Do you see that?” Angelique asked.
“Yeah.”
“I need a weapon.”
He pulled a blade out from his stash and handed it to her. “If anything comes at you, use this. There are more weapons around the house.”
“I know where they are,” she said.
He felt the steeled tension in her body as they both raised up on their knees.
“Get behind me. Until we know if there’s just one or more, let me handle this.”
She moved, and he was glad he wouldn’t have to argue with her. He was pretty sure that after the last time she faced one of these new demons, she wouldn’t want to go another round unless she had to. At least now she was armed, which gave him a bit of comfort and worried him at the same time.
If she had a weapon it could be used against her. He hoped there was only one demon, but who could tell from the white tornado swirling up in the middle of the hallway.
He noted it didn’t happen in an instant. That was a good thing for demon hunters. They’d at least know these fuckers were coming.
One demon materialized, the same kind as he had fought before, its pale eyes glowing in the semidarkness.
It didn’t move at first, just made a slight turn of its head from side to side, as if sensing the air around it. Then it zeroed in on their direction and moved forward.
Ryder snapped to his feet, Angelique scrambling to do the same. He drew his weapons, a dagger in each hand, and stepped toward the demon.
“Stay out of the way, and always behind me,” Ryder warned.
“Got it.”
The demon ignored Ryder, seemingly intent on getting to Angelique. Exactly what he expected, so he stepped in front of it each time the demon made a motion toward Angie.
When the demon raised its arm to push Ryder out of the way, Ryder sliced it with one of the daggers, feeling a sense of satisfaction when the demon snatched its arm back, hissing in pain. The wounded skin sizzled and began to deteriorate immediately. The demon focused first on its own melting skin, then turned a menacing glare on Ryder.
Emotion. Odd for a demon. This one was damned pissed off, too. Growling, snarling, holding its wounded arm as if in pain.
This was good stuff. Anger and pain were distractions to the demon.
And working out perfectly, since its attention was on Ryder now and not Angelique.
“Come on, fucker. Come at me.” Ryder felt his own rage building and used it to shore up his strength.
The demon lunged at him, this time maneuvering to avoid the daggers. It was strong, grasping Ryder’s left arm and applying a tight, painful squeeze. Ryder stabbed the demon with the dagger in his right hand and the demon let go, backing away again.
The only problem was that even though he was wounding the creature, the skin around the injury began to regenerate.
That sucked.
“Ryder, there’s another one coming,” Angelique said.
He didn’t have time to look, his attention only on the demon he fought. “Let me know when it’s fully formed,” he said, his back turned to her. His primary objective was keeping the demon focused on him, and away from Angelique. Hopefully he could get this one down in time to battle the next one.
With renewed effort, he lunged and attacked the demon, stabbing with the daggers and wishing he’d pulled one of the swords instead so he’d have a longer weapon reach. The demon feinted back at every swipe of the knife, then surged forward to grab at Ryder again. Sometimes it missed, sometimes it didn’t, grabbing Ryder in its bone-crushing grip.
What kind of Wheaties were they feeding these demons anyway? This sonofabitch was superstrong, and being on a hardwood floor wasn’t helping. The demon was pushing, and Ryder had nothing to dig into with his boots. He was sliding backward. The demon gave a hard shove and Ryder went flying, slamming against the stone wall. He grunted at the pain, but filed it away for later, pushing off the wall to go after the demon again.
He caught sight of the next demon, its mist continuing to rise up from the kitchen floor. Angelique, armed, moved toward it.
“Don’t,” he warned her. Her gaze shot to his but he didn’t have time to hold it, his attention turning back to the demon he fought. This one had to die, before Angie tried to engage the other one. With renewed effort, he went low and embedded the dagger in the demon’s midsection. With a look of surprise the creature stilled, using both hands in an attempt to pull the dagger out.
Oh, yeah. Got you now.
Ryder used that momentary advantage to swing the other dagger up and jab it deep in the demon’s chest, right where its heart should be. The demon’s eyes widened; it tilted its head back and howled, an unholy sound.
The demon began to shudder, both hands still around the dagger in its stomach. It dropped its head and stared at Ryder.
“You can’t kill me.”
Its voice was hoarse, filled with frustrated anger.
“Heard that one before,” Ryder replied, stepping back as the demon began to disappear, reforming into its original mist.