Page 91 of Hell’s Weapon

“What?” Now I really am confused. I feel Milo step up to my back, his hand coming to my side.

“It’s his fault we all spent the last twenty-four hours getting our bones broken by those asshole demons.”

I have no idea how he’s reached that conclusion, but I’m not about to correct him just yet. I need a plan to get us out of this forest without it coming to physical blows.

My silence costs us.

“Get them boys,” Cameron shouts and they ascend on us.

Rio gallantly steps around me, swinging the first punch as the nearest guy gets within reach.

I take on the second who is right behind him. Somehow, I manage to keep restrained as the anger boils in my veins. Remembering that I’m acting human right now, I limit my speed and hold back on the punches. I really do try to take the bastard down whilst not giving myself away. I quickly have him on the ground. But before I can knock him out fully the others reach us.

With Rio and I both engaged, Cameron and the remaining other male, number Seventy-Seven, manages to slip through. Seffy prepares to fight and surprises me with an effortless looking move which gives her the advantage–she’s been hiding the fact she’s clearly trained in the martial arts.

Milo, however, freezes. Cameron is the one to grab him and the words he spits at my human ends all my will power to keep up this charade.

“Guess you’ll be first, I can’t wait to see his face when we rock up with your bodies.”

Grabbing the head of the guy I’m fighting, I break his neck in one swift twist, killing him instantly.

The first man I put on the floor decides to recover somewhat, so I kick him in the face before he can manage to get his feet underneath himself. Dead or unconscious, I no longer care.

Returning my eyes to Milo, having lost a few precious seconds, my body stills as my blood freezes over. Even my demon feels cold as I watch Cameron wield magic.

A blade of ice forms in his hand and before Milo can struggle out of his hold, or I can reach him, Cameron thrusts it straight through Milo’s ribs.

“No!” The scream is visceral, it rips from my lungs as I shift.

Using my talons, I shred a hole down the side of my leggings with my index finger. On an upstroke, brushing the blade inked to my skin, my palm closes around the metal handle of the dagger as it pulls from my thigh. The weight is a familiar comfort that I’ve missed so dearly.

“Anima Sola,” I whisper into the night. Soul trap. With a flick of my arm, the blade is launching to its first destination. It flies true and buries itself straight into Cameron’s neck. The magic within makes it glow as it encases his soul within his dying body.

He’s not meeting Charon this night, or for a very long time, if I get my way. And if I’m correct and he is in fact the killer we’ve been trying to track down, his soul will be taking a one-way trip to Tartarus for the rest of eternity.

Diving to catch Milo as they go down, a flash of my demonic abilities allows me to move the distance in a fraction of a second.

Wrapping one hand around his waist, I support his weight as I reach out with my free hand to retrieve my knife. It pulls free of Cameron’s neck with a glorious spray of blood and a gargled noise as he drowns in it.

The dagger isn’t in my hand for more than a second as I send it flying once more into the back of the guy fighting Seffy. He goes down as I sever his spine with the throw.

Milo staggers, his hands coming to the ice blade in his own chest, red crimson soaking through his t-shirt.

“Don’t remove it,” I command him. My heart is thrumming in my chest. I’m practically vibrating with the fear that he’s going to die. “We can fix this,” I tell him as he pulls me to the ground, his strength fading fast.

Without even looking, I recall my knife again, before taking out the third guy and the fourth. I’m too focused on Milo.

We need to get out of here, he needs medical attention. Especially as in the next second the magic holding the water as ice winks out and the shard in his chest disappears, leaving an open stab wound and nothing in the way of his blood flowing freely.

His eyes are wide in panic, his breathing is completely messed up and he’s clinging to me. I can’t linger on his gaze or I’m going to lose it.

“You’re going to be fine,” I tell him repeatedly.

Releasing my wings, the decision is already made.

“Hold on tight,” I tell Milo as I pull him into my arms. He’s not that much bigger than I am, and I’m certainly strong enough to hold his weight, but flying with a passenger is tricky.

Still, we don’t have time, flying is his only hope.