Demon Blood: A Demon Soul Prequel (The Caine Brothers) by Christine Ashworth Page B

with her and finally put a hand on her arm, stopping her.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I’m not sure.” She lifted her head and listened on the wind. “It’s like I’ve got an itch at the back of my memory and I can’t quite figure it out.”
    “Something’s missing, huh?” Gideon lifted his head, and sniffed the wind.
    “Yes.” Marie-Therese mentally ran down everything she’d learned about the demon he’d fought. “That’s it.” She snapped her fingers. “Boargan run in packs. There should be more.”
    “On the Chaos Plane, they run in packs,” he agreed. “But here they come across alone. Which is also how they die. Alone. Which is sad when you think about it. A pack creature is shoved onto this plane from their home, for whatever reason, only to die here.”
    “Sad?” Marie-Therese snorted. “It’s a demon. They don’t need our pity.” They approached the spot where Gideon had incinerated the Boargan and she peered into the darkness under the pier. “I guess I was wrong. No more demons.”
    Squealing, two Boargan jumped off the far side of the pier and landed on the sand. The demons whirled to face them.
    “Shit, they used my surprise tactic.” Gideon whipped out his knife.
    Marie-Therese pulled her knives from the holster on her back and gave them an experimental twirl. Taking steps to the left, she separated herself from Gideon. The heavier demon was on his side, so she kept her gaze on the slightly smaller one facing her.
    Their smell made her want to sneeze. She pinched the bridge of her nose hard enough to bring tears, but it stopped the sneeze right before their standoff ended. For a moment the demons didn’t move, just watched them—then they attacked.
    The one that came for her was on all fours, and it came fast. Marie-Therese did as she had been taught. Running straight at it, she jumped and spun in the air. Landing on its back, she planted the twin blades into the beast’s tough hide and pulled. Deep gashes opened its flesh as she leaped off it. Blood spurted off the demon onto both her and the sand, a darker spatter against the dark sand. The Boargan bucked and squealed in pain.
    A lot of cursing, as well as more squealing sounds, came from where Gideon did battle. So was she on the inside of the silence shroud? She tucked the thought away for later and fought to focus on the one she faced.
    Her demon had turned and, this time, stood on its hind legs, its front hooves slashing the air.
    “Motherfucker,” she muttered, and sneezed hard. If she rolled toward it to cut its belly, it could easily drop right on her, smashing her internal organs. She swayed lightly from side to side as it came forward, considerably slower on two feet, though the front hooves kept up the slashing motions.
    She darted in low, swiped with her blade at its torso, content with the welling blood. A slashing hoof made contact with her shoulder, pushing her into a stumble and making her hiss. She turned the stumble into a roll, rose and swiftly turned, double-jabbed its underbelly and swiveled away, rewarded with a loud squeal as the demon dropped to all fours.
    Panting, Marie-Therese circled it and jumped on its back, crossed the knives under its chin, and pulled toward her and out, almost slicing its head right off, similar to what Gideon had done earlier.
    The demon stopped, collapsed to the ground. She scrambled off it and looked to where Gideon was riding the back of his beast. Blood trickled down his arm, and his knife, buried to the hilt into the neck, quivered with the animal’s panic. The demon made odd brushing motions at its eyes and kept up a keening squeal that hurt her ears.
    “Catch,” she called. He looked around, caught the knife she tossed, leaned over and thrust the knife into its chest, roughly where its heart should be, before he slid off its back.
    The beast fell. Gideon approached cautiously. When the demon didn’t move, he pulled the knives out of it and plunged them into the sand to