Immortal Rider_ Lords of Deliverance Series_ - Larissa Ione [140]
Mother. Fuck.
Tavin flew at him, and Arik pivoted to meet the demon, who was a mass of blows and blades he must have pulled out of his ass. A million cuts sliced into Arik at once, as if he’d been tossed into a giant food processor. Hitting the ground in a tight roll, he whipped his stang out of his chest harness and sliced it across Tav’s torso.
The demon yelped and reared back, but even as Arik jammed the silver end of the weapon into the Sem’s shoulder, TaÀ shouldev shoved a nine-inch, jagged blade into Arik’s gut. He heard the slushy sound of blood, felt the gristly resistance of muscle and organs being penetrated. Staggering agony took away his breath.
Somehow, he managed to jam his knee between Tavin’s legs, and the guy barked out a curse and doubled over. Panting, groaning, Arik stabbed the demon in the back with the stang and ripped upward, cutting a seam along his ribs. The demon screamed, spun, his eyes crimson, and sank his blade into Arik’s chest.
Dizziness laid Arik flat. A black haze came over him, and damn, he was going to die, wasn’t he? He’d lived through a month of torture in Sheoul, survived Pestilence, Satan, Thanatos, and khnives.
And this sex demon was going to kill him.
“Dickhead,” he rasped.
Tavin’s eyes went from crimson to gold, which meant he was only mildly pissed off now. When they returned to their normal blue, the guy would be level, but Arik doubted that would happen any time soon.
“I’m really sorry, human.” Tavin shoved the blade home.
Directly into Arik’s heart.
Pain. Arik thought he’d known every kind there was.
He’d been wrong.
Heart pain was a unique beast, a sharp, scorching sensation that made it impossible to even writhe in agony.
He lay under Tavin’s heavy body, wishing he’d had a chance to make love to Limos before he died. Wishing he could have apologized to her. Wishing he could have made very, very clear that nothing she’d done in the past mattered to him.
The ache in Arik’s heart had nothing to do with the knife buried in it. His pain was for Limos.
Tavin wrenched the blade out of Arik’s chest and pushed awkwardly to his feet, his hand slapped over his own gushing injury while Arik bled in the sand.
Or… wait. He wasn’t bleeding. Lifting his head, he tested his fingers and toes. They all wiggled. He sat up, looked down, and hey, his injuries were closing up.
“What the—?” Tavin whirled around, launched the dagger, and buried it in Arik’s throat.
Hurt like hell, but Arik yanked it out, and a curious zipping sensation went through him as the wound sealed.
“That’s so cool.” Arik patted himself down, didn’t even look up when Tavin brought down a rain of little caltrops that landed on Arik, sticking to him like two dozen burrs.
They burrowed painfully into his skin in a bid to reach his vital organs. They were a nasty demonic weapon, but even as Arik cursed and tried to pry one from his shoulder, his flesh convulsed around them and pushed them out.
<Àeight="0/div>
“Fuck.” Tav stood in front of him. “Why won’t you die?”
“No idea.” Arik stood, and the little bone spurs dropped to the ground.
Tavin came at him again, this time with a curved blade aimed at Arik’s neck. The demon wasn’t screwing around anymore. Most things—even immortal things—couldn’t survive decapitation. Arik ducked, swung, and managed to knock Tavin off course, but the dude was fast, and when he whirled, the silver blade filled Arik’s vision.
He dove to the ground, sweeping up one of the spurs as he rolled. In a quick move, he launched the tiny weapon, catching the demon in the gut. Tavin hissed in pain and dropped the blade. Arik took instant action, grabbing the dagger and doing a replay of his high school football days with a tackle that put Tavin on his back.
Arik jammed the blade against Tav’s throat.