Snow's eyes snapped open, her consciousness hurtling back into her own body like a rebounding rubber band. She gasped, her mind reeling from the abrupt disconnection.
She'd tried to submerge her consciousness back into Kyle's system, to guide him through the darkness, but it was like hitting a brick wall. The link was severed, leaving her feeling disjointed and anxious.
Her gaze landed on Elijah, his face still etched with fear. Snow's anger flared, her hand on her sword's hilt.
"Who was that?" she growled, her voice low and menacing. "Where's Kyle?"
Elijah took a step back, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Snow, I-"
Snow's sword was out, its tip inches from Elijah's throat. "Tell me, Elijah. Now."
Elijah swallowed, his eyes darting around the room. "That was Azazel, a powerful demon. He's...he's one of the Fallen, a high-ranking lieutenant of the Demon King."
Snow's grip on her sword tightened. "And where's Kyle?"
