His forked tongue flickered disturbingly close to my face.
"Your boss and I had an agreement," said a smooth, English voice. "Lilith is mine."
The newcomer stood on the side with my swollen eye, but he sounded like Malik. Great. Let my day be complete.
The demon holding me danced back a few steps. "You weren't fast enough."
Still in my blind spot, the newcomer killed my captor's sidekick and did something to the demon holding me that made him crumple to my feet in a broken heap, all in a matter of seconds.
"That fast enough for you?" He stepped into my field of vision. Malik's fitted light-weight shirt and pants spoke of money, but there was no tailoring that could hide the primal wrath that rolled off him.
The injured demon on the ground gooshed out some fluid that splooged over my feet. I dredged up enough magic to light up one hand and finish the bastard off.
"No," Malik said. "We need a messenger."