CHAPTER SEVEN

A ball of green light filled Mark's hands, lighting the sky briefly before he hurled it at the creature flying away from him. He watched the ball connect, the creature fall and snorted. Let that be a lesson.

*****

Cerriwyn didn't know what kind of magic this was. It wasn't like anything she'd ever felt before. Normally Demon skin was hardened enough that most spells and magic just bounced off, a bit like dragon scales.

As she fell, she shifted into her natural form, her wings wrapping around her from the wind rushing past her as the hard earth rapidly rose to meet her. She gasped when she hit the ground, an old rusty pole damaging her flesh as she impaled herself, her silver blood coming out in a great spurt that stained the ground before it just ran out of the wound, pooling under her.

It took one second to realize this was iron. She let out an ear-piercing shriek. Leave it to the Demon to retreat when it was in danger, forcing the Pixie to suffer.

*****

He heard her shriek of pain but did not turn around, knowing she deserved it for taking not one, not two but THREE potential meals. Mark sighed, coming to a halt, his conscious kicking in.

With a twinge of regret, he turned around, regretting it all the more.

Silver blood was staining her and the ground, making her look even more ethereal. In this form. The other ones could go straight to Hell.

Iron. Iron could kill Cerri.

That would have been useful information like ten minutes ago.

"Hold on, Cer." He murmured, kneeling down by her, careful not to inflict anymore pain then he'd already done as he wrapped a massive hand around the offending iron pole.

Mark actually cringed at the anguished howl that escaped her lips when he jerked the pole from her body, placing a hand to the wound. There was a sizzling sound, the smell of something burning and finally nothing more then a weakened but alive Pixie laying there. "Now we're even."

Cerri stared up at him, tears running down her cheeks before they formed into little crystals. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn't get the words out, though her eyes told the story. She was sorry for provoking him. It wasn't her nature. Heaving a great sigh that made her body shudder, her eyes closed, head lolling to the side.

"Damn." He cursed and lifted her body in his arms, one arm beneath her legs, the other around her back before flying off into the night, his meal suddenly forgotten.

He had to make sure all the iron was out of her system because it could potentially kill her, which is not what he'd meant to do. With a sigh, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, not understanding why he cared for her so deeply. Maybe it was because she was just like him, in a way.

Mark shook his head and headed back to the mansion, hoping Maurice had the potion ready since the gargoyle read his mind most of the time.

*****

Waking up to a half moon told Cerri she had slept for three or four days straight. She went to sit up but couldn't. Frowning she looked down to find a delicate chain on her wrists, binding them to the bed. It didn't take a scientist to figure out why. Safety precaution. She HAD gone sort of wicked for awhile there.

She dropped back down with a sigh, taking some time to just lie there. She couldn't feel any pain so she figured the iron was out. Actually, it had to be. She'd be dead else wise.