“Let him go,” I said, and all eyes came back to me as Ku’Sox felt his face in panic and tried to find his balance. “I say he has no right to claim demon law because he isn’t one. We hunt. If he runs far and fast enough, he can live with the memory of being hunted, of being a demon. He will deserve to live. But if he is caught . . .” I hesitated, seeing understanding trickle through them, reigniting their bloodlust. “If he’s caught, then kill him like the animal he is.”

“I am not an animal!” Ku’Sox cried out, his voice high as the demons cheered their approval.

“Yes, you are, dear boy,” Newt said, her cheeks wet as she came forward to help him find his balance. “I say that the elf, ah, that Trenton, has an excellent idea. Let Ku’Sox go.”

Ku’Sox tensed to jump up and away, and he was mobbed, beaten down. I backed up into Trent, and he held me in front of him, his grip warm and his breath coming over my shoulder as they dragged Ku’Sox up and spread his wings wide so he couldn’t move.

“Say you we hunt?” Dali shouted, and I winced at their shouts, fisted hands in the air.

Ku’Sox struggled, blood running in little rivulets from where they gripped too hard. “You can’t do this to me!” he rasped, his black eyes wide in fear. “I am a god!”

Newt came forward. “But we can, love,” she said, giving him a small kiss on his furry face. “Fly fast.”

“No!” he shouted, his word whistling in fear, and they let him go.

I ducked as he was away, his wings beating the ground as he surged into the air. Sounding like a dove, he whistled into the night sky. My heart thudded as I watched him go, his gray shadow quickly going faint.

“He’s getting away!” someone shouted, and Bis flapped his wings for their attention.

“I can find him,” the little gargoyle said as he took to the air, and I was proud of him for having lost his fear.

Al sidled up to me, leaning to mutter, “I hope you know what you’re doing. He’s going to be the devil to catch again.”

Ku’Sox’s shadow dwindled and vanished into moonlight. Clusters of demons were watching as well, discussing the best way to follow—giving him a generous head start but clearly eager to be away. “He was impossible to catch before only because you didn’t stand up to him,” I said softly, my gaze lingering upon Bis, sporting in the air over them, spiraling in his joy of flight. The gargoyles . . .

At my other side, Trent was frowning, still watching the sky. “We need mounts for a hunt. I’m not going to run after him.”