Page 104 of Bloodhunter

Shane followed behind us.

We watched as more cops, dressed in riot gear, marched downthe streets, broke down doors, dragged out screaming, crying, beggingsupernaturals. Most of the residents didn’t even try to put up a fight. Theyknew better.

When two cops stepped out in front of us and demanded thatwe stop and get down on the ground, Amias appeared suddenly behind them and rippedout their throats before they even realized what had happened.

He glanced at me, then at Shane. “Get her to the woods.”

“Doing my best,” Shane said, then shoved me away when I wouldhave stood there staring down at the cops, frozen.

“We’re almost there,” he said, but to himself, as though hedidn’t believe we’d actually make it.

But we did.

With Derry between us, we sped away from the death anddestruction, grim and shocked, with the girl’s soft sobs sporadically breakingthe silence.

Finally, I squeezed her hand. “Derry, where are thechildren?”

“They went into the tunnels with their nannies,” shewhispered. “But I saw my dad running, and I didn’t want him to be alone. Iwanted him to come with us.”

“Tunnels are under the house?” I asked.

She nodded. “I should’ve told you.”

“No, Derry.” I put my arm around her and drew her close. “Youshouldn’t have.”

“Your dad will be okay,” Shane said, surprising me. “He’sstrong.”

“The human women,” she murmured. “Things were shaky becauseof the women getting killed, and then when they found a pile of them, we knewwhat was coming. But it came so fast…”

“A demon is killing them,” I told her. “We’re going to endhim tonight. Then everything will be okay.”

“No,” she said. “Nothing will ever be okay.”

I didn’t argue, because she was right.

But I was going to make sure that I helped make things asokay as I could.

Hang on, Angus.

Hang on.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“The humans will want proof,” Amias said.

We stood in a line in front of a decrepit house in thewoods, watching the door as though the demon might come bursting through it atany second.

And we hoped he would.

The exorcist—a slight, balding man named Joseph—had formedan intricate demon trap outside that door, then had chanted beneath his breathfor what felt like an hour as he’d sprinkled salt in a circle around everypotential exit point of the house. All windows and the backdoor had beensealed. There was only one way out for the demon—through the front.

And we were waiting for him. All of us but Angus. Amiasstood at my back, watching my every move, and I tried to forget he was there.The emotions were clashing and clamoring for attention, and I needed to focuson the demon, not the vampire.

Amias’s impatience was strong—in less than thirty minutes hewould have to hide from the sun, and he wanted to see this through. He wantedto keep me safe.

Bastard.

I shoved the thoughts of him away.