“No,” he said tersely. “It’s a demon, but if it’s strong enough, it has the abilities of whatever form it assumes. You’ll be able to move in a minute.” His long face screwed up in distress as he looked at the blood splattered about the room. “You’re going to be all right.” Still keeping me in the cradle of his lap, he used my silver knife to rip the bottom of his shirt. “You’re going to be all right,” he whispered as he tied the rag around my wrist and set it gently in my lap. I moaned at the unexpected bliss that rose from my wrist at the rough movement.

“Nick?” There were black sparkles between me and the lights. It was fascinating. “There aren’t any more demons. There hasn’t been a demon attack since the Turn.”

“I took three years of Demonology as a Second Language to help me with my Latin,” he said, stretching to reach my bag as Jenks tugged it out from the wreck of the table. “That thing is a demon.” Keeping my head in his lap, he clattered through my things. “Do you have anything for pain in here?”

“No,” I said dreamily. “I like pain.” Face going slack, Nick’s gaze shot to mine and then to Jenks’s. “No one takes demonology,” I protested weakly, wanting to giggle. “It’s, like, the most useless thing in the world.” My gaze drifted to the cabinet. The doors were still shut, but the panels had been broken by Nick’s hammering and me being thrown into it. Beyond the splintered wood was an empty spot the size of the book on the floor beside me. So that’s what they hide in a locked cabinet, in a locked room, behind a locked door, in the basement of a government building. I squinted at Nick. “You know how to call demons?” I questioned. God help me, but I felt good. All light and airy. “You’re a black practitioner. I arrest people like you,” I said, trying to run a finger down his jawline.

“Not exactly.” Nick took my hand and set it down. Shaking the cuff of his sweatshirt past his hand, he used it to brush the blood from my face. “Don’t try to talk, Rachel. You lost a lot of blood.” He turned to Jenks, his eyes frightened. “I can’t take her on the bus like this!”

Jenks’s face looked pained. “I’ll get Ivy.” He dropped to my shoulder and whispered, “Hold on, Rache. I’ll be right back.” He flitted to Nick, the breeze from his wings sending more waves of euphoria through me. I closed my eyes and rode it, hoping it would never end.

“If you let her die here, I’ll kill you myself,” Jenks threatened, and Nick nodded. Jenks left with the sound of a thousand bees. The sound echoed in my head even after he was gone.

“It can’t get out?” I asked, opening my eyes as my emotions swung from one extreme to the other and tears welled.