The door opened, and two more Seminus demons stalked in, one with dark hair and wearing a black paramedic uniform, and the other a big blond in jeans and a Jack Daniel’s T-shirt. Both had longish hair that fell to their shoulders, and all had glyphs running from the tips of their right fingers to their throats, where two linked, tattooed rings circled their necks.
“The only way you’re getting released is if we take you outside and separate your head from your body,” the blond said in a ho-hum voice, as if he was the hospital’s resident decapitation specialist who was prepping for yet another routine job.
And decapitation would definitely be one of the sure-fire ways to kill her. She opened her mouth to respond… and left it hanging open when Kynan entered. Following him was the Guardian who had nailed her with the crossbow bolt, and Kynan’s wife, Gem, whom Idess had seen only once, when she’d gone to acquaint herself with—basically, spy on—her new Primori. Gem was dressed much as she’d been then, in midnight Goth pants, buckled boots, a skull-patterned corset, and a dog collar. Only her hair was different; instead of black and pink, her braided pigtails were black and electric violet.
What were Kynan and Gem doing in a demon hospital? What was a Guardian doing here? They were supposed to kill demons, not hang out with them. Idess knuckled her eyes, wondering if she was asleep. But when she looked again, they were all still there, surrounding her like hyenas going in for the kill.
She tugged futilely at her chains. “What’s going on?”
Gem shouldered Eidolon aside to get in Idess’s face. She more than anyone looked as if she wanted to cause Idess some serious pain, and as her black-painted lips curled away from her teeth, it seemed maybe she wanted to take a few bites out of Idess, as well. “Why did you try to kill Kynan?”
Idess gaped. “Kill him? I was trying to save his life.”
“And that’s why you knocked me out?” Kynan’s voice was gravelly, and though Idess hadn’t learned much about Kynan’s background yet, she suspected the mass of scars on his throat had something to do with that.
“You attacked me. I only hit you to get you out of the way so I could protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
The paramedic crossed his arms over his chest and looked pointedly at her. “Except from fallen angels.”
“Fallen angel? That’s what you think I am?” She snorted. “Please. Those scum wouldn’t lift a finger to protect their own mothers. If they had them.”
“Then what are you, and why do you claim to watch over Kynan?” Gem gestured to the blond demon. “Wraith couldn’t get into your head to get any information, so we know you’re some kind of powerful evil.”
“I’m not evil,” she gritted out, but that was all she was saying, because there was no way she was letting demons know about Kynan’s Marked Sentinel status.
“Then you’d better start talking,” Kynan said. “You know I’m charmed. And you know only angels and fallen angels can harm me. So I want to know why and how you learned about me. And I hope for your sake you aren’t planning some sort of apocalypse, because we’re still recovering from the last one.”
Idess’s blood froze in her veins at the word “charmed,” because the only reason he’d feel comfortable admitting such a huge secret was if the demons already knew, and if he didn’t feel that Idess’s knowing such a thing was a risk.
Which meant that they planned to kill her. “I’m not looking to start an apocalypse, I assure you.”
“So you thought you’d pop into a demon-infested mansion and punch me? If not for Tayla and Lore, who knows what would have happened?”
Tayla must be the crossbow-happy Guardian next to Eidolon, but… “Lore?”
“The demon who was with me. The one who brought you in.”
The demon she’d tried to kill had saved her? “Fools,” she muttered. “You halfwits! I’m assigned to protect you. I’m a Memitim, a Primori guardian.”
Eidolon repeated the word, “Memitim,” under his breath.
Gem turned to the doctor, her braids slapping softly against the bare skin of her shoulders. “What’s a Memitim?”
The room fell silent as Eidolon ran his hands through his hair a few times. “According to some religious scholars, Memitim are angels who preside over dying humans who are no longer being watched over by guardian angels.”
He was right, in a way. But what he described was a Memitim’s duties after Ascension. Right now she was earthbound, and little more than a glorified bodyguard. She locked gazes with Kynan. “May I speak with you alone?”