First things first, I had to assess their combat level somehow. My heart raced. The system would not show combat levels, and so far I had not received any skill that let me inspect others.

I wondered if Elira had one, but her gaze said all I needed to know; those eyes were ready for blood. I was ready too, scalpel gripped tight, prepared to cut throats if it came to that, yet confidence kept slipping through my fingers.

"Well, well, well… what do we have here?"

Something wrapped around my shoulder, and an arrogant voice burst against my ear, hot breath crawling down my neck like an uninvited guest.

Beelzebub squealed sharply, his small body flaring with energy. Power radiated from him as he leapt into the air, his tiny fangs bared for bloodshed.

Who!? My thoughts snapped in panic. My body moved on instinct, twisting away with a quick turn of my leg. I barely caught my balance when I saw a middle-aged man dressed in black, standing exactly where I had been moments before.

My back brushed against Elira's. We stood close, breathing fast, ready. I could feel her warmth at my spine, steady and unshaken, while the air around us filled with killing intent.

"On my mark, attack with everything you've got." I whispered the command to Elira, and she nodded, swallowing hard.

"Who are you? Why are you attacking us?" I demanded, my eyes fixed on the man as the rest of his group closed in. We were trapped in the middle of them, surrounded by crossbows and knives. One word from him and we would be dead or at least badly wounded, which did not sit well with me.

His eyes sneered at me. I could tell he did not take us seriously, likely weighing whether it was worth speaking to us or just killing first and collecting the bounty. If only I had my acupuncture needles... I cursed inside my head, promising to be more careful from now on. Well, if I get out of this alive first...

His arm rose, signaling the others to hold, while his gaze crawled over my body with a lecherous hunger. I could tell exactly where he was looking, and I did not appreciate it in the slightest. What are his intentions? Want a piece of me? I wanted to scream that I would shove my fist down his ass if he so much as reached out, but I held my tongue for now.

"You're Beatrice, aren't you? And this is Elira, right? I think that's what your father called you." His voice was oily, like a man enjoying a private joke.

A shiver ran down Elira's spine at the words. John sent them here? My stomach dropped and guilt rolled over me like a tidal wave.

"How do you know my father?" Her shoulders twisted toward him, eyes hardening. Something in her shifted, dangerous and sudden, like she was about to do something reckless. Before she could move, my free hand closed over hers, holding it tight.

He laughed, slow and oily, stepping closer while his tongue wet his lips. "He said you'd break at the mention of him," he said, amusement curling in his voice. "But your friend here does not look very afraid."

Another step. He's five paces away. Two more and I'll strike.

"Why would I be afraid of some scum who does not know his place? You still haven't answered my question." I flexed my fingers around the scalpel, feeling its weight. "Do you think I won't kill you if you look down on me again?"

"Whoa, chill, cutie. I'm not a bad guy." He raised both hands in mock surrender, grin wide and greasy. "Right, boys? We're gentle when we want to be."

"Yes, sir!" they all answered at once, laughter bubbling up around him like nails on wood. Their grins made my stomach turn.

"Will you leave her be if I come with you?" Elira's voice cut through my calculations. I almost wanted to slap her. Do I look like someone who needs a sacrifice to be protected?

"Yeah, no. You are not going anywhere." I pulled her in and tightened my grip on her hand.

"But, Beatrice—" she tried to pull away, but I shook my head.

"I would rather die than have you do something so stupid. I will not let you go back there where you are not happy." Her fingers clenched around mine in answer.

"How touching. I wonder if you will scream the same when I have my way with you before I kill you," the man barked, then dropped his arms to signal the others to attack.

"Beelzebub!" I shouted, and the little summon gave a furious squeak. I could feel the thrum of crossbow strings being drawn. I shot Elira a look, and she understood. Her hand slipped to the ground, and the earth trembled under us. I let her go and launched myself forward as mud and roots rose up around her like a crude shield.

My scalpel aimed for the man's throat, but he was faster than he looked. He was smiling, the kind of smile that dared you to try. A short dagger winked into existence in his palm, and he struck at the same moment I lunged.

Our weapons met with a brutal clang. No sparks flew, but the look in his eyes was enough; he had the madness of someone who enjoyed breaking things, and I did not like people like that. In that clash, I felt his strength; he was at least on Hera's level, maybe a hair stronger. He shoved me back, and for a second, I staggered, but my wings gave me agility. I twisted aside, dodging his silent strike, and my wings carried me clear.

He did not hesitate. He dropped the dagger and caught it with the other hand, then drove it toward my stomach with brutal force. I managed to block, but not cleanly. The blade scored me, warm blood seeping through the fabric. The pain flared like fire, but I refused to let it own me.

"Fuck you!" I screamed, and something inside me snapped. I wanted to end him. Right now.

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