Raffé could feel the blood dripping warm and sticky down his neck, slipping beneath his armor to drip down his chest, soak into his quilted undertunic.
Angel-Méo's breath was rank, wafted demonsbane and holy power over Raffé, making him dizzy. "I'm an angel. The Angel Umah, Most Holy Servant of Wrath and Vengeance. Demons are fallen angels, cast out for their unworthiness. Pale imitations, piddling foot soldiers meant for slaughter while true warriors do all the work. I am much more than a demon, little prince. I require far more susten-"
He stood stunned, as though frozen. Raffé stared wide-eyed at the arrow point jutting out of his forehead.
Distract. Escape.
Escape. Escape. Escape.
Raffé turned to mist, passed around and over Angel-Méo, shifted back, and heaved Telmé up over his s
