Free Daimon by Jennifer Armentrout Page A

beg—
    and I mean, really beg—I’ll let your death be a fast one. Frankly, half-bloods don’t really do it for me. Pure-bloods on the other hand,” he let out a sound of pleasure, “they’re like fine dining. Half-bloods? You’re more like fast food.”
    “Come one step closer, and you’ll end up like your buddy upstairs.”
    I hoped I sounded threatening enough. Not likely. “Try me.”
    His brows rose. “Now you’re starting to upset me. That’s two of us you’ve killed.”
    “You keeping a tally or something?” My heart stopped when the floor behind me creaked. I whirled around, spotting a female daimon.
    She inched closer, forcing me toward the other daimon.
    They were caging me in, giving no opportunity to escape. Another one shrieked somewhere in the pile of crap. Panic and fear choked me.
    My stomach rolled violently as my fingers trembled around the garden spade. Gods, I wanted to puke.
    The ringleader advanced on me. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you?”
    I swallowed and fixed a smirk on my face. “Blah. Blah. You’re gonna kill me. Blah. I know.”
    The female’s ravenous shriek cut off his response. Obviously, she was very hungry. She circled me like a vulture, ready to rip into me. My eyes narrowed on her. The hungry ones were always the stupidest—the weakest of the bunch. Legend said it was the first taste of aether—the very life force running through our blood—that possessed a pure-blood.
    A single taste turned one into a daimon and resulted in a lifetime of addiction. There was a good chance I could get past her. The other one…
    well, he was a different story.
    I feinted toward the female. Like a druggie going after her fix she came right at me. The male yelled at her to stop, but it was too late.
    I took off in the opposite direction like an Olympic sprinter, rushing for the door I’d kicked in earlier in the night. Once outside, the odds would be back in my favor. A small window of hope sparked alive and propelled me forward.
    The worst possible thing happened. A wall of flames flew up in front of me, burning through benches and shooting at least eight feet into the air. It was real. No illusion. The heat blew back at me and the fire crackled, eating through the walls.
    In front of me, he walked right through the flames, looking every bit like a daimon hunter should. The fire did not singe his pants nor dirty his shirt. Not a single dark hair was touched by the blaze. Those cool, storm-cloud-colored eyes fixed on me.
    It was him—Aiden St. Delphi.
    I’d never forget his name or face. The first time I’d caught a glimpse of him standing in front of the training arena, a ridiculous crush had sprung alive. I’d been fourteen and he seventeen. The fact he was a pure-blood hadn’t mattered whenever I’d spotted him around campus.
    Aiden’s presence could mean one thing only: the Sentinels had arrived.
    Our eyes met, and then he looked over my shoulder. “Get down.”
    I didn’t need to be told twice. Like a pro, I hit the floor. The pulse of heat shot above me, crashing into the intended target. The floor shook with the daimon’s wild thrashing and her wounded screams filled the air.
    Only titanium would kill a daimon, but I felt confident that being burnt alive didn’t feel too good.
    Rising up on my elbows, I peered through my dirty hair as Aiden lowered his hand. A popping sound followed the movement, and the flames vanished as fast as they appeared. Within seconds, only the smells of burnt wood, flesh, and smoke remained.
    Two more Sentinels rushed the room. I recognized one of them. Kain Poros: a half-blood a year or so older than me. Once upon a time we had trained together. Kain moved with a grace he’d never had before. He went for the female, and with one quick swoop, he thrust a long, slender dagger into the burnt flesh of her skin. She too became nothing but dust.
    The other Sentinel had the air of a pure-blood to him, but I’d never seen him before.