Good.
A hot breeze skittered down the al ey, swirling dust, raising another whiff from the man on the ground. Justin coughed.
Shuddered.
Rol ing the thug to his side so he wouldn’t drown in the blood from his windpipe, Justin rose shakily to his feet.
Lara leaned over her attacker, wiping his face. Not wiping, Justin amended. She had this little bottle in her hand and was making some kind of sign on his forehead. Her lips moved. Like she was giving him last rites or something.
The hair rose on the back of Justin’s neck. Shaking his head, he walked over.
“You okay?”
She moistened her lips. “Yes, I . . .” Her eyes widened.
“Watch out!”
A scrape behind him.
He turned, too late.
The blow clipped the side of his skul and dropped him like a stone.
*
*
*
Horrified, Lara watched the bottle crack against Justin’s head. He col apsed in the grit of the al ey. The homeless man stepped over the body, a demon staring out of his eyes. He licked his lips. “You’re next, bitch.”
She was spent. Done. Drained of strength and magic.
“Go to Hel ,” she said and flung her vial of holy water at its head.
F o r g o t t e n s e a 23
The demon shrieked.
A splash of holy water wouldn’t stop the children of fire.
But it slowed this one down.
Gideon rushed over and flung himself on the thing’s back.
The possessed man staggered, clawing at Gideon’s hands around his throat.
Lara crawled to Justin, her arms and legs shaking, a sil y little prayer whistling under her breath.
The demon crashed to its knees in the al ey, Gideon stil clinging grimly to its neck.
She tilted Justin’s head to open his airway, pressed her ear to his lips. A faint, warm vibration stirred her hair.
Relief leapt inside her.
Gideon lumbered to his feet. “Is he alive?”
“Yes.” She laid her hand along his jaw, reaching out with al her senses. Her power flickered. Sputtered. “Justin?
Blearily, he opened his eyes. She peered anxiously at his pupils. In the shadow of the warehouse, she couldn’t tel if they were the same size or not.
“Can you hear me?” she asked.
His gaze fastened on her face with painful intensity. His cracked lips parted. His face was a mask of dirt and blood.
Her heart tripped. So much blood. The split in his scalp gaped like another mouth, red and open.
She scrambled on her hands and knees for her purse, lying in the weeds and litter.
“What are you doing?” Gideon demanded.
“He’s hurt. We need to apply pressure,” she explained, rummaging inside. “To stop the bleeding.”
“Unless his skul is fractured,” Gideon said. “Come on.
We don’t have time for first aid.”
24
V i r g i n i a K a n t r a
“What about . . .” Her gaze darted to the other figure on the ground. Their attacker.
For answer, Gideon turned the man over with his foot.
The one who had been possessed sprawled motionless, staring with empty eyes at the darkening sky.
She felt sick inside. The lost souls who had attacked them were victims, too.
Demons did not usual y hunt humankind. Heaven and Hel were bound by the same restrictions. The children of air and fire could not take human life or violate humans’ free wil without pissing off the Most High. But the demons,
