The other Demons had all stood somewhere between eight and ten feet tall, huge things with broad shoulders and bodies that looked built for ripping people apart with their bare hands.
This one was shorter, though not by much, standing somewhere around seven feet, and far more slender than the others. Its skin was darker too, almost like someone had poured black tar into the shape of the pinnacle physique of a man and then let it harden there.
Grey's gaze narrowed.
The bastard's abs had abs.
Its obliques looked like someone had taken a chisel to every individual block of muscle, carefully carving out every line, every vein, every little separation until there wasn't a single wasted ounce of flesh anywhere on its body. But what really stood out were the circuits.
The other Demons had possessed dark-gold etchings that looked like raised scars burned across their skin.
These were trenches. Deep ones.
