HEATH

I emerge from Portia's strange audience room and into the brightly lit hallway, head snapping from side to side as I attempt to find the source of the screaming. Joss's reaction pounds blood into my limbs, ready to strike. There's something or someone wrong here.

He charges into the nearby lounge room and halts in the doorway. "Shit!"

"What?"

I barge passed him and freeze at the scene in front of me. The room’s large with high ceilings, brightly polished marble floor to match the decorative pillars in the centre of the room. A large table, adorned with a vase filled with violets and wildflowers, takes the space close to the glass doors and scenic oil paintings cover the walls.

And Elyssia, the teen who always gives me the eye when we visit, is pinned against the wall by a hulking demon, built like the proverbial and unpleasantly similar to the one who held Verity the other night.

Portia lies on the floor close by, curled in a ball; a second demon stands over her with a long chain wrapped around his broad hand, whip-like, and ready to strike.

Iron.

Holy fuck.

She cowers, aware the damage the chain could cause—not just visible injury but a deeper poison if the metal breaks the skin. The humming presence in the room blocks her magic, as does her daughter held hostage against the wall, life threatened.

A guy stands in the centre of the room, arms outstretched in greeting with a sardonic smile on his face.

I charge towards him, ready to end the situation and the three, shocked and winded as I'm knocked back by a barrier I'm unable to see.

Steadying myself on the wall, I study him. The guy’s tall, attractive, dressed in the fashion I've seen around the town amongst kids Elyssia's age and social group. Hair carefully spiked, deep brown eyes. His black jeans and band T-shirt combination match Elyssia’s, and he wears thick leather and silver bands around both wrists.

Is this Hunter, Elyssia’s boyfriend she mentioned in the kitchen? Or a demon? An uncomfortable feeling prickles. Both.

"How the hell did you find your way into my house?" hisses Portia.

Elyssia cries, gasping against the larger demon's chokehold.

"That's no way to talk about your daughter's lover," he says and tuts.

"Lover?" Portia shrieks. "She's eighteen years old!"

He approaches Elyssia and strokes her long hair. Elyssia spits in his face and he sneers, stepping back and wiping his cheek. "Did you really expect her human nature to control the... shall we say ‘passionate’ side of her fae?"

"Elyssia would know you were a demon!" snaps Joss.

"Wrong. Infatuation can do stupid things to people." Hunter walks across and looks down at Portia on the ground, poking her with his Converse. "Aren't you going to stand and confront me, dearest queen? Scared?"

"Go to hell," she snarls.

"No, thanks. There's not a lot of room there anymore. Plus, the weather's nicer here. Better food sources too." He points at me and Joss. "But these assholes are really causing problems. All we want is our friends and family to join us, and they keep the portals closed. Really not cool, guys."

I drag a hand through my hair. This is wrong. Demons shouldn't be able to enter a fae home; Portia has warding and security, the place under constant surveillance.

And the demons shouldn't be able to stop us reaching them.

"How are they keeping us out?" snarls Joss as Ewan appears behind.

"He's warded the room." Ewan points upwards. An iridescent, circular rune painted on the ceiling glows. There're few things that interfere with our powers and fewer still who know how to use what can.

More worrying, I've never seen this particular rune before.

Panic rises as I spin around to Ewan. "Where's Vee?"

"Downstairs with the kid."

"Don't fucking leave her! What if more of the bastards are around?"

Joss shakes his head. "There aren't. I can’t sense any."

"And why the hell didn't you tell us there were demons in the house?"

"I couldn't sense them, okay?" he snaps back, but his face traces worry I share. He always senses demons nearby, but not this time.

Hunter claps his hands together. "Boys? Your attention please?"

What the fuck do I do? If Xander were here, he'd launch everything he had on pushing through whatever barrier exists between us. He’d have a chance at breaking through the runic magic, but none of us holds the same brute strength. Sure, if I could reach the barrier's other side I'd end the bastard, but how do we obliterate the rune?

The top door to the cellar remains open, and I toy with the idea of charging down there to grab Vee. If anything happens to her....

Hunter sighs and clicks his fingers. "Seriously? Can I have your attention here? In case you haven't noticed, I have the queen of the local fae lying on the floor and her daughter well... under duress."

The large demons remain focused on their victims, not engaging with events around them, automatons fulfilling a role. "Let them go," I snarl, "or you'll bloody regret it."

"Nope. You're the ones who will regret today."

"Sure," snorts Ewan.

Demon asshole rubs his hands together. "Some of the more sensible fae are coming over to our idea of a future for this world, but the problem is the majority believe you four are the good guys. I'm going to change that." He nods at the demon who stands over Portia, and the creature raises the chain. She whimpers and covers her face with her hands.

No. I charge at the barrier again, and the magic hits me like a high voltage electrical shock.

This is bullshit.

"So, we got to thinking, myself and some friends, how could we change the fae’s opinion?" He points at himself. "I had the perfect solution." His face transforms into a smug grin, eyes flashing with excitement. "Imagine what would happen if one of their queens dies and the Four Horsemen are implicated."

“What the fuck?” I growl.

“Injured beyond the possibility they could heal her.” He raises his voice. “Viktor. Go ahead.”

Panic joins the anger as the hulking demon wraps the chain around his hands. I'm powerless to do anything as the iron whips Portia across the chest, tearing her jacket through to her skin. The scream sickens me.

"We won't be implicated because you won't kill her!" I shout.

"Yes, you will because there'll be no trace of us, only the queen's and daughter’s bodies. I'm sure her advisers are aware who was visiting the most important fae in the realm today."

Beside me, Ewan rubs his fingers together, concentrating on creating the invisible diseases or viruses he can conjure from the smallest microbes around him. Diseases that can kill instantaneously or infect and spread to others as quickly. But what's the point? We can't touch the bastard through his protection.

"This has never happened before," he mutters.

“Joss!” I look behind me. “Check on Vee and Kailey.”

The demon holds the chain in the air again. "Wait!" I yell. "Stop. Talk about this!"

Hunter gives the signal to his henchman to lower the chain. "Talk? Why?"

"Make a deal," I say through gritted teeth.

"Not interested. Which one first?" He points between the two women. "Or at the same time. I think it would be cruel for one to witness the other dying."

"Fuck!" I shout and step back, preparing to throw the full force of my power.

Death runs through me, I can kill with a touch if I'm in the right mind—like fucking furious—but I also have the ability to project an energy that stops hearts. In this form, demons have hearts I can wreck. Keeping this power under control takes a lot of effort, and my slip up the other night, killing the fae, brought us to this point today.

If I hadn’t killed the fae, we wouldn’t be summoned to explain ourselves. Without my actions, there’s no chance we’d be here at the time the demons planned.

They knew. The demons fucking knew that I'd reach the point I did to protect Verity; their stalking her and causing me to intervene guaranteed an uncontrolled reaction.

Somebody out there knows my weakness.

Magic surges through, death building in my hands, which crackle with an electrical power. The fury grips and the power surges, shooting from my fingertips in a lightning arc towards the demon’s chest.

The energy hits the barrier, revealing the size as the lightning ball dissipates and crackles upwards and outwards along the previously invisible wall.

"Where's this magic from?" I shout. "How is the ward so strong against me?"

Hunter launches into a song and dance, chilling words about death and destruction likely from one of the emo bands he listens to with Elyssia. He gives the nod to the demon with the chain. The demon raises the chain again, and I fight covering my ears against the scream accompanying the thrash.

I stare ahead. Helplessness isn't an emotion I'm familiar with.