“I will if you—” Jolting in surprise, he dragged me to a halt beside him.

Two dozen yards down the sloping sidewalk, a streetlamp dimly lit the Grand Grimoire’s green awning, and standing in front of the door was Burly—or rather, Todd, the guild member who’d greeted me and Amalia.

He stared at me and Zylas, his mouth gaping in silent horror.

He’d seen Zylas talking—something a contracted demon couldn’t do. He’d seen me trying in vain to push Zylas’s hand off my head—further damning evidence that I couldn’t control him.

I opened my mouth but my brain had ground to a standstill. This was exactly what we’d needed to prevent. This was the worst-case scenario. My secret was out. The MPD would brand me a rogue and bounty hunters would kill me.

Todd’s shock broke before mine. He whipped his infernus out of his jacket and red light blazed over it. His demon appeared in a swirl of crimson, towering seven and a half feet tall.

Zylas leaped forward.

I watched him dash down the slope, silent and lethal. Todd’s spiky demon swung its huge fist. Zylas ducked the lethargic blow and sprang past the demon. His fingers were curled, red magic streaking down his hands to form six-inch talons.

He didn’t turn on the spiky demon’s back. He kept going.

And I realized his intention.

“No!” My shriek echoed through the silent night—but it was too late. A rasping tear. The splatter of liquid hitting the ground. The thud of a falling body.

Todd’s demon, frozen in mid-swing, straightened. The blankness in its face melted away, and a mixture of rage and triumph twisted its bestial features. It turned around, the shift of its huge body revealing what lay behind it.

Zylas stood beside Todd, his crimson talons dripping. The man lay prone, blood spreading under him and trickling down the sloping concrete.

“Gh’athirilnā nul thē,” the spiky demon rumbled.

Zylas sneered at his kin. “Ait eshilthē adahk Ivaknen īn idintav et Vh’alyir.”

Crimson magic bloomed across the spiky demon. Its form dissolved into a cloud of light that shot at Todd. Glowing power hit his body, illuminating it from within like a scarlet light bulb. Then the radiance faded and the demon was gone.

The Banishment Clause, I realized numbly. Todd’s death had freed the demon from its contract. It had possessed him, taken his soul, and escaped back to its world.

Todd’s death.

Todd was dead.

Zylas had killed him.

I stumbled forward on weak legs. Zylas watched me approach, his eyes wary. Stopping a few feet from the body, I stared at the rivulets of blood running down the slanted sidewalk.

“You killed him.”

Zylas silently regarded me.

“You killed him!” The words burst out, edged in hysteria. “He didn’t do anything wrong! He was scared and—and he was only—you killed him!”

Zylas’s tail snapped side to side. “You said no one can know I am not enslaved. I am protecting you.”

“No!” I grabbed the sides of my head, holding my skull together against the boiling panic and horror. “No, this is wrong! You killed an innocent man!”

“You said—”

“I didn’t say to kill people!” I shrieked. “Get back in the infernus! Right now!”

He snarled at the command, then a crimson glow swept over him. The pendant buzzed against my chest as his essence filled it.

Alone, I hugged myself and stared down at the dead man. An innocent man. He’d seen an out-of-control demon and called his own for protection. He’d been afraid. He’d been defending himself.

He was dead now. Because of me. Because I couldn’t control Zylas.

Tears ran down my cheeks. My fault. All my fault. Tahēsh had killed people and I felt horrible guilt over that already, but I’d had no idea Zylas could or would free the other demon. The blame wasn’t entirely mine. However, I’d known full well that Zylas was a risk to everyone around me.

I’d known, and I’d ignored the danger. Now an innocent man was dead. Why had he even been here? So late at night? Standing outside?

An electronic trill made me leap backward. The tune blared from Todd’s body. His wife, calling to ask when he’d be home? Friends he was supposed to meet, calling to find out why he was late? His champion, who was supposed to protect him while he commanded his demon, concerned about where he’d gone?

My demon had murdered a guild member—on our guild’s literal doorstep.

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d turned and bolted. I dashed up the street, cut west, and ran until I couldn’t breathe. Then I kept on running, fleeing Todd’s death and my own selfish decisions. I ran until my legs threatened to give out, then I walked.

I walked and walked until I found myself at our motel room. With unsteady fingers, I dug out my key card and unlocked the door. Inside, our beds were unmade—we couldn’t let housekeeping in because Zylas had destroyed the TV—and our suitcases lay untouched.

Amalia wasn’t in the room. I didn’t know where she’d gone and I didn’t care. I couldn’t face her right now.

I stumbled to my bed and stopped. Carefully, as though it were a live bomb, I lifted the infernus off my neck, opened the nightstand’s drawer, and set it beside the standard motel Bible. I closed the drawer and toed off my shoes, then collapsed onto the mattress.

Burying my face in the pillow, I cried silently, my voice muted by guilt, horror, and the petrifying dread of what awaited me in the morning.

Chapter Twenty-Five

I woke at a quarter after six, groggy, unrested, and sick with guilt. The room was dark, the sun yet to rise, and I sat up clumsily, my nose stuffed and eyes dry. My glasses lay beside the pillow. I’d slept in my clothes, sprawled on top of the unmade bed.

My gaze darted to the bedside drawer. Zylas was still inside the infernus. Maybe, with the access to my thoughts that our contract had awarded him, he knew I couldn’t stand to see him right now.

Maybe he knew I loathed everything about him.

He was a remorseless killer. He didn’t care that he’d slaughtered an innocent man. He felt no guilt and would never apologize. But he’d acted to protect me. He’d responded based on his understanding of the situation—based on the information I had given him.

Zylas had killed Todd, but the responsibility was mine. All mine.

My phone had fallen off the bed. Retrieving it, I slid on my glasses and pressed the power button to wake the screen. Twenty-six texts, eight missed calls, and three voicemails demanded my attention.

Stomach churning, I flipped open the texts. The first dozen were from Amalia, asking what was going on, but those had stopped at eleven. The rest were from Tae-min and spanned the better part of the night—informing me that I should come in immediately to see the GM. They grew progressively more urgent every time I failed to respond.

His last text told me he was heading home, but the GM was waiting at their headquarters and I should get my butt over there ASAP if I wanted to remain in the guild.

I called my voicemail and listened to the messages—all from Tae-min and saying the same things as his texts. He sounded annoyed and harried, but not panicky, horrified, or furious. That meant he either didn’t know about Todd or didn’t suspect me.

The last thing I wanted to do was return to the scene of last night’s murder, but I couldn’t avoid the GM any longer without arousing suspicion. Sighing, I pushed off the mattress and stretched. The sight of Amalia’s empty bed triggered a cold prickle in my gut. Where was she? Why hadn’t she come back last night?

I reclaimed my phone and called her number. It clicked straight to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s Robin,” I said. “Where are you? Please call or text me right away so I know you’re all right. I’m heading over to the guild, but I’ll have my phone.”

I ended the call, then sent her a text saying the same thing. Worrying my bottom lip, I used the bathroom, brushed my hair, and mourned my wrinkled outfit. But without a change of clothes, my bookworm look would have to do.

As ready as I would get, I stared at the bedside table. Creeping over as though I might disturb a sleeping beast, I slid the drawer open and peeked inside. The infernus lay where I had left it. If I didn’t wear it, could Zylas still hear my thoughts? Was he waiting for me to call him out?

My throat worked, my innards twisting. I slowly closed the drawer again. With a final glance back, I left the motel room.

I couldn’t control Zylas. If I brought him with me, he could kill again. For all I knew, I might be heading toward my own arrest—and I would not let him kill the MPD agents who were rightfully protecting people from out-of-control demons and their selfish contractors.

Achingly aware of how alone I was, I walked away from the motel and the infernus.