Page 1 of The Demigod

CHAPTER ONE

Daemon

Admittedly, when I agreed to hit up the local supernatural bar to get more information about what the fuck was going on in the human world, I really just saw it as an opportunity to sneak away and shirk responsibility.

I didn’t plan on the bar’s atmosphere being thick and oppressive, the few creatures gathered around sitting in silence, cupping their drinks, and staring off into the distance.

It seemed my crew weren’t the only ones worried about the shit that was going down.

“Well, this has been… a real bummer,” I declared to no one in particular as I threw back the last of my whiskey, then slid off of the stool to make my way out.

Sure, Ace was probably going to be frustrated that I came home with absolutely nothing. But, hey, if he was expecting more from me, that was on him.

If he wanted results, he could rely on my brother Bael, a demon dedicated to all things miserable. Like research.

I was only ten feet out into the parking lot when I felt it.

I couldn’t even describe it at first.

My experience with human emotions tended to be along the lines ofThis is a lot of fucking funorHoly fuck, are human women good in bed.And not of the doom-and-gloom variety.

But whatever this was, it felt like it was crushing my chest, like it was compressing my organs, like it was scooping out my brains and replacing them with this swirling, aching misery.

I spent many lifetimes in Hell, surrounded by pain. I had devoted myself to inflicting it on the humans who deserved it.

This, though, this was those sensations dialed up a hundred, a thousand. It was an all-over sort of pain that started in my chest and moved outward until it overtook me completely.

“Fuck,” I hissed as the weight of it pushed me down onto my knees.

I couldn’t get up.

I didn’twantto get up.

I wanted to lie down right there on the pavement and wallow.

But there was still that tiny voice in the back of my mind, the demon in me fighting against…. whatever the hell this was.

It told me to get up.

It demanded I fight.

“Fuck… off,” I growled, pushing my fists into the ground, pushing myself up, forcing my body to comply.

I was barely on my feet again when the sensations shifted, transformed to something else entirely.

Gone was the misery, the feeling of darkness inside that seemed intent on pulling me in and never allowing me to surface again.

In its place was something that had my chest tightening, my throat closing, my heartbeat thrumming.

Adrenaline flooded my body, making me want to run or fight.

But run where?

Fight who?

The enemy was within, was turning my mind and body against itself.

This, I realized, was that fight-or-flight sensation that the humans we punished in hell felt when we would set them loose, only to chase them down, taunt them with their own fear, with their…

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