Free Fallen Death (The Trihune Series Book 3) by RB Austin

into step with Gabe.
    Stick out our foot. Trip him. Not hurt. Not maim. Just funny.
    It’d started to rain. The weather might scare Followers into staying at home, but it didn’t stop the Fallen.
    The Behns were like postal workers. Through rain or shine, snow or sleet, the Fallen’s death will be delivered.
    “I don’t understand why you won’t come home.”
    Cut down the weak link. Pretty Boy is too stupid to live.
    “It’s not a good idea right now. The Other is still agitated.”
    “You said that at the hospital. I don’t get it. Normally the Other is quiet after a prison break.”
    The demon growled. It didn’t like the reminder of his predicament.
    Sarid hesitated. “It’s different this time.”
    “Because of all the other Septs?”
    A few months ago, Elias, the Sept One’s sire, spoke of a prophecy. An end of the world kind of prediction that involved a map and a key. It also mentioned Behns joining together with the Woyrs. So for the last month Behns from different Septs had arrived. Along with a couple Woyrs.
    The Other didn’t like it.
    It was difficult enough, keeping the demon from killing Cade, Lucas, or Gabe when it took over. Extending that promise to the whole Trihune just wasn’t going to happen.
    “The number of occupants at the HQ is part of the problem,” he admitted to Gabe.
    “And the other?”
    Sarid’s thoughts centered on Asjhone, then veered to Apollyon and his television debut.
    The Behns had been gathered in the new, larger conference room in the HQ basement. Everyone just learned that Kate, Lucas’s female, was the key. A discussion had just begun on what that actually meant when Jeeves ran in the room.
    It was Apollyon. On TV. Coming out to the humans. Not in an I’m-gay kind of way or even an I’m-the-devil way.
    Sarid hadn’t recognized the man claiming to be the Sonh of the Creator. But the demon had.
    When the Sept One Hostel opened for business, the demon’s agitation had increased, weakening Sarid’s control. And Sarid had been unable to stop the demon’s rush to the surface when it spied Apollyon on the screen.
    Sarid opened his mouth to respond to Gabe when—
    Yes! Someone we can hurt, kill, maim.
    At first he thought the demon meant Gabe, but then heard a ring. His ach noticed it, too.
    The cellphone noise was a Fallen beacon and all Trihune members could hear the call if close enough.
    His ach palmed a semi-automatic Beretta in his right hand, reached for a dagger with his left. Sarid kept his hands loose at his sides, ready to pull out his own hand-carved, ivory handled daggers.
    The demon bounced up and down. Hurt. Kill. Hurt. Kill. Maim.
    Wasn’t this discussed already? What’s the point of maiming if the thing was already dead?
    Hurt. Kill. Maaaaim.
    Whatever.
    Gabe motioned to the right. Sarid dipped his head in acknowledgement. They broke into a jog, heading for the business district of the city. The rain had eased, but dark clouds still blocked the moon and the street lamps didn’t enlighten much. Good thing he and Gabe had their own internal flashlight. Sarid tapped into his Behn powers. His eyes emitted a bright blue light. This allowed him to see as clear as day in the dark, also farther and clearer.
    A scream sounded. Was muffled a few seconds later. Without comment they doubled their speed. The ringing grew in volume. Getting closer. Sarid couldn’t wait to pick up the call.
    He needed it.
    The Other paced inside him. Hurtkillmaim. Hurtkillmaim. Hurtkillmaim.
    A good fight would keep the Other in line. One couldn’t vie for control, if the host was passed out from complete and utter exhaustion. He sprinted past Gabe, rounded the corner first.
    One Fallen.
    Disappointment sliced through him. One wasn’t much of a fight. It’d barely take the edge off.
    The monster had its mouth latched onto a male Follower’s neck.
    Hurt. Kill. Maim. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt.
    Not slowing his Usain Bolt pace, Sarid snagged a knife from the holster in his