The latex ties dug into his wrists. The damn things would not tear. Tan was forced to dislocate the boy‟s shoulder simply so
he could reach the ties with his teeth. In a captive corner of his mind, he heard Zack‟s guttural sobs, but pain to his host did not
bother the demon. He gnawed through the bindings on one wrist and then, with his arms free, snapped the joint back into place
with a sickening crunch. Tan did not know how long he would inhabit this body, and he wanted to keep it functional. His to
command, his own little finfolk lordling.
Wouldn‟t that annoy Morgan. The thought made Tan smile even as the one inside him fought his control.
But first they must get away.
Tan could hear the warden‟s voice through the white paneled door, and the woman, arguing. Deciding what to do about
their precious son, no doubt.
Tan twitched sinew and muscle, forcing the boy‟s cooperation as he bent to release his ankles. The clumsiness of his
injured arm made the demon hiss in irritation. Perhaps he would find another body after all. Plenty to choose from, once he
was free. He would quite enjoy . . . sampling. The demon had old scores to settle on this island, if he could get around the
pesky wards. And that girl, the one who occupied so many of the boy‟s thoughts, seemed appetizing. Tan would have her, one
way or the other.
The door swung open. Morgan.
And the woman, but she was human. Female. No threat at all.
Tan jerked the boy to his feet. The warden worried Tan. But Morgan would be hampered by his concern for Zack. The
demon had no such handicap. “You should have tied me tighter, fishface.”
Morgan prowled forward without answering.
Tan frowned. He needed a distraction.
He saw the woman, scurrying behind Morgan, reaching for the soft black bag on the floor of the hall. She did not look at
him. He did not want her in the hall. She was in his way.
The demon grinned and ran his tongue over his borrowed teeth, riffling quickly through his host‟s memories. “Mommy, he
hurt me,” he said in the voice of four-year-old Zack.
The woman stiffened. Morgan circled closer. Tan edged away.
“Help me,” he called like a lost child. “Help me, Mommy.”
For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut, as if in pain. Stupid bitch. Taking advantage of her blindness, Tan sprang, quick
as a fish in his borrowed body.
But Morgan rushed them, whump , hard, slamming Tan/Zack brutally to the floor. The demon overcame his shock, the
pain, wresting control as they slithered, scrambled, rolled across the living room. Morgan grabbed him, wrapping them in his
brute arms. Tan snapped at his wrist, spat in his face.
“You can‟t hurt me,” he taunted. “Not without hurting your spawn.”
“I do not intend to hurt you,” Morgan said, curiously calm.
Tan exerted himself, wriggling furiously to get away. The body he inhabited was almost a match for the warden‟s. The boy
had inherited his sire‟s height. But the warden had weight on his side.
“And you can‟t end me,” Tan said breathlessly. “So you might as well let me go.”
“No, I can‟t end you,” Morgan said. “But she can.”
“She . . .” Tan twisted the boy‟s head to see.
It was the damn woman, approaching with a syringe in her hand. Bitch, bitch, bitch.
Tan bucked and writhed. Betrayal burst from deep within him. “Mommy, no! Mommy, don‟t hurt me!”
Tears ran down her face. “I‟m so sorry,” she whispered. “But it‟s for the best.”
The demon howled in disbelief as she leaned over them, jabbing the needle deep into his arm. “Murderer! Murderer!
Bitch!”
She squeezed the plunger. Tan tried to reach her, to punish her, to possess her, but she stumbled back, weeping, and
Morgan grabbed him tight. They rolled, thrashing, across the floor, crashing into the coffee table, Morgan on top. Morgan was
crushing the boy‟s chest. He needed air.