Page 101 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

Another spat of gunfire, and he yanks Chloe behind him, the bullets striking him harmlessly, not even drawing blood.

And Chloe’s just letting herself be pulled through all of this, letting herself be carried like dead weight.

She jerks her arm away, grabbing at the handful of gravel in her pocket, and Killian spares her just once glance before he advances, her keeping pace with him.

They stride by the cells, and various beings, various creatures, all stir, like they’ve been woken by a deep sleep.

At the end of the tunnel, three guard stand, assault rifles pointed at them.

One of the guards' hands shakes around the trigger.

“Who are you?” one calls out, voice brash. Chloe can’t see his expression past the helmet, past the protective shield over his face, warping and flickering with wards.

Chloe’d bet money that one of those let them see demons.

Maybe not without a dead body.

Killian growls, a deep sound that sends the hair on the back of Chloe’s neck raising.

But the guard, with a brash voice, just flips up the shield, staring dumbly at Chloe. “Who the hell are you?”

“Shit,” the other says, and their voice is far higher than it should be. “That’s Chloe tombbreaker.”

The first one tightens his grip on his trigger, and a spat of gunfire ricochets down the hall, before Killian warps a shield around Chloe, all of the bullets falling back into place.

“Shit,” the one repeats. “Shit.”

“Tombbreaker?” Killian mutters, his voice low, with just a glint of a glance to Chloe.

She shrugs.

Killian just steps forward, the set of his shoulders the same as it was in the body, before he jerks his hand and a wall to their side cracks, splitting open.

Inside, Chloe catches a glimpse of a child, a boy barely older than four. He blinks up at her, eyes perfectly round and inhuman, something Chloe’s never seen before.

A building block set of toys hover in the air in front of him.

“How the hell did you do that,” the brash voice guard says, snapping his gun up and pointing it at the kid.

“You, you put it back,” the first guard says, pointing at Chloe. “Put it back, it can’t get out, don’t—”

The child tilts his head at them all, evaluating, before babbling like a toddler.

“Shit,” the first guard breathes, the one with the high-pitched voice, and the toys tumble in midair, never hitting the ground. “Shoot it, shoot it before—”

“Wait, no—” Chloe starts, but the guard aims the gun, snapping out fire.

The kid flinches.

Killian clenches his fist, and the same shield warps around the child, the bullets bouncing.

“Shoot it!” the first guard repeats, and the brash one fires again, and—

Killian makes a gesture, something, demon power flooding, and the brash guard flicks backwards, head snapping back with a sickening crack.

The first guard recoils away as the brash voiced one flops backwards, neck at the wrong angle, everything at the wrong angle, and—

Killian lets go of Chloe, steps forwards, and vanishes.

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