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The sub-demon’s head reached at least three feet higher than mine, and his three neon-yellow eyes glowed as he released a piercing screech that probably woke the entire neighborhood. I winced and stumbled out of his reach as his hard, insect-like leg tried to hit me.
The serrated edge of his other limb tore gashes in my thigh. I cursed and hacked at his appendage until he retreated.
Fane joined the fight and used his talons to slash at the creature’s legs. The sub-demon howled as one of his limbs sheared off, spouting black blood all over the yard like an oil geyser. The zubrek spun and whipped one of his front legs through the air at the demon shifter.
My heart jumped in my throat, but Fane easily dodged the hit, rolling under the beast. The demon shifter moved with so much grace and confidence that it was no surprise he was classified as one of the most lethal beings out there.
And most beautiful.
I shook the thoughts off, darted forward, and slammed my sword into the sub-demon’s side. “I need to reach his head!”
Fane nodded and crouched, dragging his talons across the zubrek’s other back leg.
Another bone-rattling cry pelted out of the sub-demon, and he fell back, his head lowering within my range. I swung my sword through the air with as much strength as I could muster—zubrek’s had extremely thick, nearly impenetrable exoskeletons—and forced the blade through his neck.
His head, the size of a beach ball, plummeted to the ground with a heavy thud. Black blood speckled the dewy blades of grass, and a few spots wet my hoodie.
Fane skirted the dead creature until he reached me and examined the cuts on my leg. He gently touched the tender area around them, desire filling my system again. “We should clean that.”
“Uh, yeah. Fine.”
His head lifted at the breathiness of my voice, and a smirk twitched at his lips, knowing damn good and well it wasn’t from the quick fight with the sub-demon. He ran his thumb over the mark on my neck, coming away with my blood from his bite a few minutes ago. A resonating hum vibrated his throat, and he stuck his digit in his mouth to lick off the blood.
I swallowed hard as fire swept through my veins. My bite on his chest barely bled and would heal soon, but the mark blazed prominently within his black tattoos and scars.
For shit’s sake, I wanted to sink my teeth into him again while he—
“Oh, my gods.” Ephraim jogged out the front door with his wife, yanking the naughty thoughts right out of my head. “What in the hell is that?”
Fane stepped away from me and nudged the beast with his bare foot. “A sub-demon, one that never comes across the gate from the Underworld.”
Conversations traveled down the road as a few shifters exited their homes to check out the commotion. Gasps and curses ricocheted through the night.
Fane dragged his hand through his hair. “Why the hell is a zubrek on Earth?”
“No idea.” I searched the street and the shadows within the trees for more creatures, but nothing stood out. “They usually stick to the fire regions of the Underworld.” That was why their exteriors were so tough. They were virtually fireproof.
Nora pinched her nose. “He stinks like rotten meat and fire.”
“That was so badass, Tate!” Dylan yelled as he leaned out of his window.
“Dylan,” Nora halfheartedly chided, still scrutinizing the sub-demon.
“What? It’s true.” The youngest Anders shrugged. “You helped a little, Fane. I guess you were pretty cool too.”
Fane snorted. “Thanks, Dyl.”
Worry lines crossed Ephraim’s face as he shook his head. “I can’t believe something like this wandered into pack territory. It wasn’t deterred by our presence at all.”
Fane searched the trees for other signs of sub-demons as the tension in his muscles grew. “We definitely have a problem.”
ChapterTwenty-Eight
The moon bathedthe forest in silvery light, glinting on Fane’s eyes as he explored the shadows. Camus assigned us this area to patrol, but with the dark, dangerous energy flowing off the demon shifter, nothing would be brave enough to cross our path.
Fane Maverick had dropped his guard for me the other night in his bedroom, and when he thought I’d freak out, I latched onto him instead.
He’d been in a mood ever since. The demon shifter had barely spoken more than a few short sentences to me in the last two weeks, but his gaze followed my every move, and his phantom touches had grazed my body several times even though he denied it. In the morning, his scent also clung to my sheets as if he’d slept beside me and snuck out before I woke up.
