Travis nodded eagerly. “I have a car parked on the street. This way.”

Together, the three of us started across the lot, leaving the massacre and Red Rum’s burning boat behind. Zylas trailed after us, rubbing at the blood on his hands with his nose wrinkled in disgust. As we passed the bumper of an abandoned tractor-trailer, the three of us stopped abruptly. A road ran alongside the concrete lot, and directly ahead, a black car with tinted windows idled at the curb.

The driver’s door opened. A man stepped out, large sunglasses obscuring his face, but a distinct scar ran up his chin and distorted his lower lip.

“Claude?” Amalia and Travis exclaimed.

Uncle Jack’s partner and fellow summoner smiled with warm relief. “Amalia, Travis—and Robin—I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“How did you find us?” Amalia demanded.

“I have many contacts in various circles.” He lifted his sunglasses to peer at Zylas in appreciation, strangely unalarmed. “So that’s the demon from the library, is it?”

“What are you doing here?” Travis asked sharply.

I wasn’t the only one wondering what was really going on.

“I came to fetch you—to get you all away from Red Rum.” Claude waved at his car. “Come along, kids.”

Part of me, the part that was exhausted and terrified and heartsick, wanted nothing more than to climb into that car and let a smart, experienced adult take over. But I wasn’t desperate enough to ignore the warning in my gut, and judging by the tense look Amalia and Travis shared, they felt it too.

Claude’s faint smile didn’t falter, but his eyes cooled. A slight shift in his expression, as though his attention had turned elsewhere. Turned inward—

Zylas sprang.

He crashed into me and I hurtled backward. I hit the ground as a reddish shadow plummeted out of the sky. It slammed down on the spot where I’d been standing—where Zylas was now crouched, having thrown me clear.

Monstrous wings flared as the demon smashed Zylas into the concrete. Crimson power burst off Zylas and he twisted free, whirling away in a blur—and the other demon followed, almost as fast, its long arms reaching. The demon and Zylas tangled, claws flashing, then Zylas broke away with an unsteady stagger.

I scrambled onto my feet as Zylas backed toward me. He turned, forgetting his adversary entirely. His eyes were dark, unfocused, blankly staring.

He dropped, his metal greaves clanging against the pavement. I leaped and caught him as he pitched forward. On his knees, he sagged against me, face against my stomach, his weight pushing me backward.

“Zylas?” I gasped, gripping his shoulders.

The attacking demon watched us, its eyes burning like magma. I’d almost thought it was Tahēsh, somehow returned to life, but at six and a half feet tall, this demon wasn’t as large. Its wings were more delicate, its tail ending in barbs similar to Zylas’s. Long black hair was pulled away from its sharp features and tied in place with a strip of leather.

The unfamiliar demon tossed a small object to Claude. The summoner caught it—a steel syringe with a thick, sturdy needle. Dark blood coated the sharp point.

“A good summoner,” Claude commented as he slipped the syringe into his pocket, “knows how to neutralize a demon safely. Neutralizing humans is far simpler, though.”

The demon turned and grabbed Amalia and Travis by their necks. It lifted them off the ground. They writhed, grabbing at the demon’s wrists, mouths gaping silently.

“No!” I cried, clinging to Zylas’s head and shoulders. He weakly grasped my legs and I lost my balance. I fell, landing on my butt, and he sprawled across my lap, twitching feebly as though struggling to move.

The demon continued to strangle the step-siblings, Travis hanging limply and Amalia’s legs spasming.

“Don’t kill them! Please don’t!” I begged, tears spilling down my cheeks.

Claude considered my plea, then nodded at the demon. It opened its huge hands. Amalia and Travis hit the ground and crumpled, unconscious. Were they breathing? Did they need CPR?

“Why are you doing this?” My fingers twisted in Zylas’s hair as I mentally implored him to get up. I needed help. I couldn’t do this alone.

“Why?” Claude repeated. “It’s quite simple, Robin. I’ve invested years into acquiring the demon you stole from under my nose.”

“What …”

He crouched so we were at eye level. His demon towered beside him, wings folded and tail lashing idly.

“With the acquisition of the First and Twelfth Houses, I’m the first to possess all twelve names since the Athanas summoners. The First House is the most powerful, but the Twelfth House …” His gaze swept over Zylas, collapsed across my lap. “The Twelfth House is truly special.”

“Special how?” I whispered.

“I’m not entirely sure. The answers lie in your mother’s invaluable grimoire.”

My hands tightened on Zylas. “The grimoire belongs to me.”

“Indeed it does, which is why I have a proposal for you, Miss Page.” He smiled invitingly. “Come with me. I’ll teach you how to survive, how to build a relationship of true power with your demon, and together, we can translate your family’s grimoire and discover all the secrets your mother kept from you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Claude’s offer echoed in my head.

A relationship of true power … The summoner’s demon stood patiently beside him. Watching. Listening. Its tail twitched just like Zylas’s—an idle movement no legally contracted demon could make.

“You’ll be safe with me, Robin,” Claude added gently.

My throat had gone dry, my pulse hammering. Everything I wanted: safety, my mother’s grimoire, and someone else in charge. All I had to do was trust a man who’d just sicced his demon on his former partner’s family.

I swallowed. If I refused his offer, he might kill us. I would agree for now, and find a way out later, when Zylas had recovered—assuming he recovered before we were in too deep. Assuming he recovered at all.

“You have to leave Amalia and Travis alive. Don’t hurt them anymore.”

“If you prefer.” He held out his hand. “So you’re with me, then?”

“Yes,” I lied, cautiously reaching for his hand.

He closed cool fingers over mine. “Hmm. I’m disappointed, Robin. Haven’t you realized yet that demons can detect lies?”

My eyes, widening with horror, shot to his demon, and I tried to yank my hand away. A silver ring on his index finger bit into my skin.

“Ori profundior decidas.”

Hot magic rushed into my hand and swept down my arm. Every muscle in my body clenched, then went limp. I collapsed sideways, unable to move, Zylas’s dead weight pinning my numb legs.

Claude rose to his full height. “Kill the Harper brats, then bring those two. The extract will wear off soon, so I need to dose the demon again.”

His demon chuckled nastily. I couldn’t move, my head canted at an awkward angle, jaw slack, glasses askew. The demon’s blurred shape loomed over the unconscious siblings as it reached down.

Reddish light erupted—but not demon magic.

A burning orb struck the demon between its wings. The fire burst like a water balloon, liquid flames splattering the demon’s skin. As it reared back with an agonized bellow, the ground trembled. The concrete between the demon’s feet split and the beast staggered sideways.

Three men appeared—literally out of thin air. A trio of mythics in black combat gear, weapons in their hands, formed a triangle around the demon. The nearest—salt-and-pepper hair, close-cropped beard. Recognition punched me in the gut.

Darius King, the guild master of the Crow and Hammer.

A pair of silver daggers in his hands, he pointed a blade at Claude from a dozen paces away. The summoner stumbled backward, grabbing at his face.

“What’s happening?” he yelped. “I can’t see!”

His demon snapped its wings, flinging the liquid flames off its back, and lunged for Darius. The mythic vanished, but the demon whirled as though tracking an invisible target.

Darius’s teammate leaped in behind the demon, a heavy staff spinning in his hands. He slammed the end into the concrete. A fissure opened under the demon, spewing a geyser of lava over its legs. Snarling, the demon leaped away from the bubbling lava.

Darius reappeared, arm cocked back, and he hurled a small object at the demon. It exploded, throwing the beast forward.

The third teammate pulled a pistol from the holster on his belt. His lips moved in an incantation, then he fired. Each bullet hit the demon with a burst of displaced air, the force hammering it backward. It crashed down.

But a demon wasn’t so easily defeated.

It lunged up, slowed by neither pain nor injuries. Red magic swirled along its arms. The air turned arctic and frost swept over the lava, hardening it into black lumps. A six-foot-wide rune circle appeared beneath its feet.

Zylas pushed up on shaking arms and dragged himself on top of me.