Psyche

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I turned around to see the house in blue and red and green flames, fire erupting all around me. I had no tears to fight back. I was hiding underneath a desk in the study, my face to the wall. I crawled out and burst into a dead sprint for the window. The demons and demonesses had dragged him out there. What could they be doing?

I stared out through the glass, my gray eyes wide, and my blood like ice. My head hurt. It was a burning sensation of someone carving into it with a flaming knife. I gritted my teeth against the headache, turning to the worst of our troubles.

When I looked out carefully, I saw Phoenyx kneeling, hands bound behind him. A demon stood in front of him, calling to the crowds around them, egging them on.

"Welcome to Eternity boys!"

My mind flew back to the instant when Phoenyx and I had been talking about why the demons wanted to kill his people, capture him . . .

Supposedly I have the power to grant immortality . . .

Was that what he meant?

Suddenly, my mind was ripped back to the situation, and I heard the demons and monsters start to chant, circling, snarling, catching Phoenyx's clothes and skin with their sharp claws. The chanting grew louder and faster as the leader stepped closer, slashing at Phoenyx's face with his silvery nails. Blood trickled from his forehead, his cheek, down his chin, staining his face.

Phoenyx didn't cry out.

The demon caught a few drops on his claw, licking it away with a poison green tongue. "I feel its power . . ."

The demons were howling, stamping their feet, demanding Phoenyx's blood.

It was violent. It was ruthless. It was every ounce of me being torn apart with him. His soul was clinging to his body and trying to keep it together the way we all cling to our favorite bunny that we've had since we were kids.

"It's time, O Prince of Darkness!" The demon announced, stepped close. He pressed his hand to Phoenyx's rib cage, grinning, blood dripping from his lips. The demon yanked something red, bloody, and throbbing from the wreckage. He held it high in the air as awed demons stared at the powerful organ, the beating heart of Phoenyx, son of Basileus, Prince of Darkness, blood of the Canem people.

The head demon walked in a circle, his fellow monsters following him giving me a view of Phoenyx's dead body. I watched as, in almost slow motion, Nick's body fell over, making a sickening squelching sound as it hit the grass, blood spilling from the torn chest cavity. I choked on vomit and tears, wanting to tear my eyes out. All that seemed less was a broken shell and a puddle of warm blood that ran quickly.

The sight echoed in my head, tormenting him, mocking me for the things it had ripped from me: my demented happy ending, his scattered emaciated memories. I bit my lower lip to keep from crying out and being caught.

I dug my fingernails into the wood trim of the window and slowly sank to the ground. The creak of the wooden floorboards beneath me was like a million people screaming, like my soul was screaming. I made no other sound, for if I had tried to scream from my throat, it would have been worthless and inaudible, as I was.

Useless . . . useless . . . he's dead . . . useless . . .

I choked on something that wasn't there, my heart beating too fast, my vision blurring as a sob worked its way up my chest. I tried desperately not to cry . . . The tears were burning as they slid down my face.

An hour could have gone by. Days. Weeks. Years. Time meant nothing.

The demons had yet to eat his heart, which beat sickeningly somehow, preferring to parade it around like it was their prize. To them, it was. I knew.