The glass behind the blankets exploded, shards of it tearing the fabric. Then those coverings were torn away and a huge, shaggy, snarling form lunged into the room. With a ferocity terrible to behold it leapt upon him, forcing him back to the floor as he tried to rise and meet the attack. Its teeth gnashed and snapped at the air. He managed to force his arm beneath its throat preventing it from biting off his face.
What kind of bloody pet did this family have? His mind raced as he fought to keep the frenzied animal at bay. The stink of it filled his nostrils. It was the smell of dried blood and offal.
It was a smell he knew.
"Nykos shall make you suffer before I turn you to dust," the beast spat in a strained whisper as it bore down upon him.
"Oh, bloody hell."
It was the Lothgar demon they had run across in Paris. The one they thought they had killed. Spike struggled to keep the filthy, thrashing creature at bay.
"Look, mate. I'm the only one around here allowed to talk about meself in the third person."
The Lothgar's head reared back and Spike got a good look at the four puckered scars decorating the dark skin of its throat.
"Nasty scars," he said straining to push the demon from atop him. "Surprised to see you're still up and about." Spike brought a knee up between the Lothgar's legs and flipped the startled demon to the floor.
