Page 113 of Devoted

Gods, the thing was hunting.

“Gabriel,” I screamed, reaching for him.

Which was why I didn’t see the second one when it hit me from behind and slammed me down to the floor.

I threw up my arm, fragile skin and bone my only shield against all those teeth, but this was all I had. I braced for the coming pain, panic seizing my lungs and squeezing them tight, wringing every drop of air out in a scream that ripped between my lips and ended on a curse.

The beast wasn’t after my body—it wanted something far more valuable—and while injuries could be healed, I seriously doubted I’d survive long without my soul.

Oh gods, my heart was going to burst, it was pounding so fast, and there was no way out, no way for me to stop this. Time slowed to a crawl as fetid breath shoved up into my nose and down my throat.

Sharpened mandibles closed around my wrist and cleaved, blood spraying as arteries severed, tendons, too, my hand going limp, arm numb. Pain blurred my vision as I kicked up with both feet, heels hammering the bottom of the hard shell, and sent the Drax skittering away. I’d barely gotten upright, and the thing was back, spraying blood—my blood—all over the floor.

I made it two agonizing steps.

Then I was down again.

My face smashed into the rug, and the nauseating weight of the creature landed across my back and legs, pinning me down like gravity had decided to take the fucker’s side. I shoved up, arms and legs straining.

Shoved with everything I had, and it didn’t matter.

I couldn’t budge the heavy fucker off me.

All around me, people screamed, and fire roared, Nico’s shadows obscuring most of the chaos. Then cold flooded through me, like I was slowly being immersed in a vat of ice water.

This wasn’t pain, exactly.

This was my marrow being sucked out of my bones, a tide that would never come back in. Emptiness carved a hole deep inside me, my legs jerking uncontrollably, and the Drax drew and drew and drew, with a hunger that would never be satisfied.

It was done.

I was losing my soul.

The horror I’d understood intellectually was happening to me, and I couldn’t save myself. All I could do was make a pathetic moaning sound, fingers clawing the floor.

More feet pounded in. Gunshots. Shouting.

Valeria’s soldiers, but they were too late, and now they’d just die, too.

Dante roared.

A sound of such raw, helpless fury, even that cold, drawing sensation paused.

Fire erupted, blistering heat washing over me, wool burning as the rug caught fire, flames crackling, the floor beneath me smoking. Another wave of flame rolled across the room, and I knew with a sickening certainty that fire wouldn’t work.

Only Nico’s shadows killed these things.

But he would try. Dante would give his life trying to save me.

The room darkened, my vision going spotty.

“Dante, stop…” Nico’s voice cut through the heat, a raw scream I’d never heard from him before. “You’ll hurt her… get back… let me…”

I tried to say something, but the pulling only grew stronger.

I wasn’t all the way gone. I still felt my blood pumping out through my wrist, the rough rug scratching my cheek, and the horrid weight of the Drax crushing me down to the floor. But the edges of my awareness were thinning, my thoughts floating away, where I couldn’t hold on to them anymore.

“Stay the fuck out of my way…”