This thing is going to tear me to pieces before I ever get near its neck.
Then use the power of the stones against it.
Won't that warn our magician that something is going on?
Yes, but if you do not think you can sever its head, then we have little other choice.
Okay. I took a deep breath, then made a sideways leap for the barrier. The hound attacked the minute I moved, slashing out with wickedly barbed claws. I twisted and dropped at the last moment, but the creature's blow caught my left sleeve and tore into flesh. It didn't matter, because it was concentrating on me rather than where it was going, and that's exactly what I wanted. The creature hit the wall of energy and the stones reacted instantly. Red fire erupted, surrounding the hellhound in a whirling, incandescent cauldron of flame, burning it, consuming it, in little more than a blink of the eye, until there was nothing left, not even ash, to scatter lifelessly down to the floor.
I blew out a breath, thankful the wards didn't appear to discriminate between evil and good. I guess that made sense, though. It was probably easier to protect the circle from all comers rather than raise a discriminatory type of magic. If that was even possible. One hellhound dead and gone.
Relief spun down the telepathic line. Are you okay?
I pushed into a sitting position and took stock. The wound on my leg was the worst—the creature's claws had sunk deep, tearing three bloody trenches down from my thingh. And it fucking hurt.
The scratches on my arm were no less bloody or painful, but at least the hound's claws had only caught a fraction of skin. The top was a goner, though. My lip and nose hurt, but were really the least of my problems.
The bastard got me a couple of times.
Use the holy water to cleanse the wounds then, before shifting. Demon marks can fester and not heal otherwise.
Even for a werewolf?
Werewolves aren't immune to the forces of magic—whether they be light or dark—simply because you are creatures of magic yourselves.
I shucked off my shredded top, then leaned sideways and picked up the bottle of water I'd dropped. The creature hadn't given me time to undo the lid properly before it attacked, so only a little had managed to escape. I undid the top the rest of the way, and poured some of the water over all the wounds.
About half a minute after the water hit my flesh, it turned white and began to bubble and burn like crazy. I clenched my teeth against the scream rising up my throat, and mentally swore for all I was worth at Quinn.
His amusement drifted down the mental line. If I'd warned you, you wouldn't have done it.
Too right, you bastard, I said, when I could.
If you had changed before applying the water, you would have carried the infection into your body. You would have died from it, Riley, because there is no cure for the poison of demon bites once it takes hold.
Not even a magical cure?
He hesitated. There are magical cures, but I am no magician, and there are few left in this day and age who even believe in demons, let alone know the spells to cure their bite.
Which is odd, isn't it, when you consider we have all manner of nonhumans still running around. I shifted shape as the bubbling finally cased, staying in my wolf shape for several seconds before shifting back. It healed the scratches on my arm, and stopped my split lip from bleeding, but my leg was going to take several more shifts to fully repair. And I was still going to end up with bruising, a puffy mouth, and a sore nose, no matter what. Thankfully, I wasn't seeing Jin tonight, because the mouth and the nose would be a little hard to explain away.
But magic is a skill learned, Quinn said, and like any skill, it can be lost.
Like the priests of Aedh are lost? I grabbed the water bottle and pushed upright. Pain slithered up my leg but otherwise, it was fine. There was no more bleeding, at least, though I had no doubt the already pretty bruising would get worse.
The priests are not lost. They are destroyed.
That one in the alley didn't look very destroyed to me.
You did not see him. You only heard him.
True. I considered the circle for a moment, then tossed some water toward it. The stones didn't react, allowing the water to arc right through the middle of them. The stream hit one edge of the pentagram, where it began to sizzle and steam.
The holy water passed through the warding stones.
Ah. Good. That means she's set the wards to react to flesh and blood, not inanimate objects.
Then why did it react to the demon? They aren't real and living in the human sense of the word.
They are when they're in flesh form. Sprinkle the salt liberally across the pentagram, then use the water to form two circles around the warding stones. Make sure there's about five feet between each one.
Why? I began to spread the salt around, making sure my hand didn't actually go anywhere near the flickers of red lightning.
Because evil might be able to step over one circle, but it can't step over two.
I couldn't see why not, but then, I didn't know a whole lot about magic, holy water, and demons. Nor did I really want to learn anything more.
I finished spreading the salt, covering as much of the pentagram's surface as I could, then did the two circles. The water sizzled like acid as it hit the floor, burning a light trench in the wood and filling the room with whitish steam.
With that done, I got the hell out of there. Quinn pulled off his sweater and offered it to me as I closed the front door.
I looked at the sweater, then at him. 'You don't like me half naked?'
'I love you naked, but you can't drive home like that because the cops will pull you over.'
He shoved the sweater my way again. I crossed my arms and pointedly ignored the offer. I had clothes in my car if I wanted them. I didn't need his, no matter how deliciously warm they might smell. 'Why would I be driving home?'
'Because you need to shower and rest.'
'And what will you be doing while I'm showering and resting?' I knew exactly what he'd be doing. I just wanted to know if he'd actually admit it. Admit that he was mollycoddling me yet again. I mean, hell, yeah, I was bloody and sore and in desperate need of a bath, but it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be the last. And it certainly didn't stop me from doing my job.
It was scary to think I now actually considered being a guardian my proper job. Lord, how things had changed.
'I'm going to be taking care of our magician.' He placed the sweater on my shoulder.
I shifted my shoulder and let it slip to the ground. 'Not alone, you won't be.'
His obsidian gaze seemed to be growing darker, deeper, until it felt like I was falling into a tunnel—a tunnel I could so easily, so willingly get lost in. This vampire might not be my soul mate, but that didn't mean there wasn't something good between us. Something special.
An alarm went off somewhere in the back of my thoughts. I blinked, but the sensation of being caught by the darkness of his eyes didn't go away.
'You will go home, Riley,' he said softly, 'and you will rest.'
The tunnel seemed to be getting deeper and deeper, until it was all around me, swamping me, overrunning my will and my mind. All I could see was the coal-dark depths of his eyes and all I could hear was his words. The compulsion to obey them swam through me, beating at my skin, my nerves, my brain. So much so that I actually
