Page 98 of The Girl Who Only Died Once

The human face staring back at her is blank, neutral, but the demon face underneath is a rictus of fear.

“Woah,” Chloe says, leaning back, her heart pounding, and it snaps his attention to her, his eyes wide.

He’s terrified.

Whatever he faced here before, even with all of his abilities, terrified him. Scarred him to the point where even beneath all the bluster, he can barely breathe.

“Hey,” Chloe whispers, as the elevator whisks ever upwards, reaching out and touching his arm. “We’re okay.”

He turns his head to stare directly at where her hand touches the sleeve of his shirt, human face still impassive.

Before he exhales, and his power floods through the tiny elevator, bitter and vivid and so much more than it was in just the forest.

“I can teleport you out, now,” he says, his voice still half choked. “I can do the rest if you want to run.”

Which she does, she always wants to run, but she shakes her head, a lump in her throat.

He nods, a flicker of relief across his face, before his expressions return, the analytical light back on his eyes, though she can still see the jump of his pulse in his neck.

“There are four other demons here,” he says, staring hard against the elevator wall. “Two in stasis, one in a lab, one in dissection.”

“Dissection?” Chloe blurts out, but before he can answer, the elevator jerks to a stop.

Immediately, he swings her behind him, gripping her arm tight, a golden bubble blooming around them, encompassing her.

Chloe gasps, her black hair fluttering in front of her face, the gold shimmering in the small elevator.

But the door doesn’t open, remaining just as fully shut.

“This isn’t the correct level,” Killian murmurs, his voice so tight Chloe could balance across it. “This isn’t even close.”

Even the edges of Chloe’s jacket lift, as if from a stiff breeze, flicking in the wind, and her eyes sting.

She reaches out, grips the back of his Henley, fisting the fabric in her hand, as the elevator jerks, almost knocking her off balance.

They could trap them here, keep them stuck in the elevator. Gas them out, suffocate them, and…

His eyes flick back towards her, before he softens his stance, still not letting her go.

“You’re safe,” he says, voice low and thrumming with power. “They’re not going to strike you.”

“Thanks,” Chloe breathes, her eyes tracing to the corners of the elevator. The edges of the walls crease easily into the ceiling,no obvious opening. There’s an air filter, but it just goes to a narrow vent, not big enough to crawl through.

Though dismantling it…she might be able to break the joint to the vent, opening up the wall, and…

And then they’d be in an elevator shaft, and near as she can tell, Demons can’t actually fly.

“Has the layout of the building changed too much for you to teleport?” she asks, and her voice squeaks, high.

Being in a demon bubble is terrifying.

She’s heard her whole life how they’re deadly, how they’re a harbinger of being completely out of your depth, to turn and run when you see one, and being inside one…

The threads of power warp, coarse, around her, like she’s an accepted part of the bubble.

He’s silent, for a moment, no sound meeting her ears except for the ragged sandpaper of her breath, before he exhales, gentling his hand on her arm, but still holding her close. “Unfortunately,” he says, clipped and controlled. “What I can teleport to is…not ideal.”

The elevator jerks again, and she stumbles into his back, but he doesn’t move.

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