Page 48 of Cold Curses

“Vampire,” I corrected, and lifted my sword. “With steel. Why are you fighting?”

“Dispute,” he said, taking a step forward.

“Dispute over what?” I asked, angling the sword for another go.

“Chicago,” he said.

I didn’t like his answer. I liked it less when he lunged toward me.

I swung my sword. He grabbed the blade with a gilded hand, stopped its arc. I kept the cutting edge carefully sharpened and honed—neither my mom nor Uncle Catcher would have allowed anything else—so the pain must have been intense. Blood dripped from his palm, each drop sizzling as it hit the magicked steel.

Wouldn’t complain about an assist,I reminded monster, who filled my limbs with heat and magic and its own piquant frustration.

With its added strength, I wrenched the sword away, slicing open the demon’s hand in the process. He grunted and grabbed at the sword again, leaving his flank exposed. I used my momentum to spin the blade back again, and blood welled quickly across his abdomen. But he didn’t flinch. Just looked down at me with even stronger rage in his eyes.

“Fucking vampire,” he said, and his backhanded slap was fast enough that I couldn’t avoid it.

I flew through the air and just managed to catch myself with my hands before face-planting into asphalt. My right cheek screamed with pain; he’d broken something, and the throbbing was powerfully strong.

I ignored more stinging in my palms and tried to climb to my feet, made it back to my knees before my spinning vision nearly pulled me down again. And then the world erupted. Shouts from Gwen ordering the demons to stand down. Lights blazing from a helicopter that wasthwack-thwacking its way toward us. And the deep and steady growls of the two wolves who appeared at my side, flanking me and staring down the golden demon.

“Back the fuck off,” Gwen said to the demon, moving forward with gun extended.

Lip curled with hatred, the demon shifted its gaze back to me.

“We aren’t done,” he said. And with a literal puff of fucking smoke, he disappeared.

“Damn it,” I said.

While the wolves guarded me, two dozen cops pushed in with weapons pointed at the remaining demons.

One apparently decided the risk of incarceration or death was too great, and he immediately sigiled himself out of Chicago. Two others decided to finish their fight and managed to fireball each other. An excess of gunfire killed one more, but not before he’d thrown a fireball that put a cop on the ground. That left only a few of the original group.

The remaining officers moved in, gleaming neon blue cuffs in their hands.

“Fancy,” I said.

“New tech,” Gwen said. “Magically enhanced cuffs. They’ve been in development for safely handling sups for a few years. The mayor escalated deployment.”

I surmised that meant some of the testing had been skipped, probably because no one was going to complain about injuries to demons if they turned out to be harmful. Unfortunate for the demons—and any other sups the CPD tried the cuffs on. Not an ideal situation. But then none of this was.

“So we can theoretically transport demons to the cube facility,” I said, “assuming we can get the cuffs on and they work.”

“That’s the idea.”

Gwen holstered her weapon and offered me a hand. I took it and worked to stand up, but it took two tries. Connor moved closer, head nuzzling my hip. I let him support me, stood up, looked at Alexei.

“What happened to keeping him at home?” I asked.

Alexei’s wolfish stare was bland.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asked. “Your eye’s already going purple.”

“Damn it,” I said, and touched a fingertip to my cheek. Yep. Still fucking hurt. “I’m okay. Demon with a powerful backhand.”

Gwen nodded sympathetically. “Sorry it took so long to get here. One of the humans passed out midevacuation, which slowed things down.”

“We’re all fine now,” said Lulu, who walked over to join us. “Sorry you had to take one for us.”