Free The Iron Hunt by Marjorie M. Liu

boys had never steered me wrong.
    My
heart hammered. I opened the door.
    The
demon was gone.
    I did
not waste time. I ran down the hall and jumped the stairs, three at a time,
feet pounding. The boys followed, loping through the shadows, disappearing
entirely as I burst onto the sidewalk and skidded into a crowd just leaving the
noodle restaurant. I ignored their yells. My skin prickled. My stomach hurt.
Bile in my throat. Big fat target.
    GoMaxineGoGoGo.
    I
ran, fled, tripped over my own feet racing down the street to the Jeep. I had a
vague plan. Lead the demon away. Find some high ground. Isolated. Away from
people. Hope like hell the boys helped.
    Just
before I reached the Jeep, Dek and Mal hissed in my ears. I faltered. Felt air
move against my hair, and turned just in time to see a dark blur slam into the
sidewalk behind me. Concrete cracked. Like a thousand spines breaking, and I
looked down and saw feet shaped like knives; literally, blades; or claws that
might have been blades, long and straight, shining quicksilver. The demon stood
on those feet like a dancer, en pointe , and took a step. His toes
clicked as they cut the sidewalk. His head remained bowed, cloak shimmering
like dark water.
    “Hunter,”
whispered the demon. “Such a long time, Hunter.”
    His
voice was smooth and warm as some lava kiss, a slow bath in liquid fire. I could
not look away from his small, perfect mouth, which barely moved as he spoke.
Terrifying. Eerie. My heart pounded so hard I felt light-headed.
    I
staggered backward into the same crowd that had left the restaurant. Nothing
happened. The men and women did not notice my presence. They scattered around
my body. Gazes slid past my face. Still talking to each other, having a good
time. They walked past the demon without batting an eye, parting on both sides
of him like a river accommodating an island.
    The
demon’s mouth tilted into a sharp smile, eyes hidden beneath the brim of his
black hat. Zee and the others poured from the shadows. Watching me, not the
demon. Watching me closely. Like they expected me to do something. As though I
needed no protection. I tried to summon them, but my voice caught. I choked on
words.
    And
then, I just choked.
    I was
dense. Took me a moment to realize what was going on, and it felt like a
lifetime, my skin hot, tears springing to my eyes. I tried to suck in air, but it
met a wall in my lungs, and I could not breathe. I could not breathe.
    “We are your breath,” whispered the demon, and I felt it. I felt his smile in my lungs.
And still, the boys did not save me. They stared as though held on the end of
some terrible tether, and I wanted to scream at them, but I could not make a
sound, and the boys, Zee— my family —
    “Do
not fight,” whispered the demon. “Hunter.”
    I
fought. I fought hard, and felt a flutter behind my ribs, familiar and
haunting. A cold sensation. Cold as snow. Cold as a backwoods bar on some
Wisconsin country road. Cold as my mother’s knives. Darkness, stirring.
    The
demon smiled. “Yes. You remember.”
    Zee
barked a sharp word, and the demon inclined his head. I went down hard on my
knees, stars pulsing in my eyes. I thought of my mother, the boys. Grant.
Everything went dark.
    Then
it ended. Ten hours, ten seconds, no idea. I found myself on the ground, almost
blind. Alive and breathing. Boys were on top of me, little traitors, Dek and
Mal twined around my neck while Raw and Aaz clutched my hands, cushioning my
skull. Zee licked my forehead, rough tongue rasping my skin. I wished he would
catch the tears racing from my eyes. So many tears. I could not stop crying.
There was something inside me. Something burning my heart. I was burning.
    My
head lolled. I saw the demon facing me. Eyes still hidden behind the brim of
his hat, cloak and hair snarling through the shadows. I grabbed the back of
Zee’s neck.
    “Kill
him,” I ordered breathlessly, daring him to defy me.
    He
did. He remained unmoving, and there was a