He smiles and it’s sad. “We both know that Amaymon won’t forgive this, and there’s no way back from this for me. For what it’s worth, I like you. I really do. I might even ask to play with you after Mordecai’s had his fun. If you promise to behave for me, I’ll see if I can keep you.”
Another wave of nausea creeps over me as the repulsive thought takes hold of me. It’s one thing to trade myself for something I wanted, but it’s quite another to be traded like a fucking object. I’m so fucking tired of this shit and my anger begins to rise, pushing my panic to one side.
Anger’s good.
Anger is a potent motivator.
Anger might be what I need to make it through this.
“You’ll only make it harder for yourself if you carry on like that,” the driver says.
Fuck that shit.
Fuck it twice over and damn them all to hell.
There is no way I’m going to roll over and take this. That’s what they want me to do. It makes it easy for them. My surrender means they’ve won. And I fucking refuse to give them an easy victory.
I’ve already survived one demon and he sure as fuck didn’t make it easy. I haven’t beaten Amaymon, but I didn’t lose, and that’s a victory in and of itself. It’s the proof I need that I can endure and survive this, even temporarily—and that’s all I need to do.
I just need to hold out long enough for him to come.
Because he promised he would come. Whenever I called. Whenever I needed him. Even if I didn’t perform the rite or say his name properly. The demon gave me his word and now I’m risking everything in the idiotic belief that I can trust him to keep it.
I’ve lost my fucking mind.
This is madness, but it’s the insanity I need to make it through what lies ahead. My reality holds little semblance to sanity and I might have lost all goddamn reason, but this is the only thing that makes any sense anymore.
Enzo will come for me and I have to hold out until then.
“You’re going to fight her, aren’t you?” the driver sighs. “She’ll make it hurt, princess. Give her what she wants and it’ll hurt less.”
I shake my head.
His eyes flash another warning and we turn a sharp corner, heading for a part of London I’m not familiar with. Its rundown warehouses and abandoned offices are creepy as fuck and I’m sure Eva fits in this shithole. She’ll be right at home and I focus on my surroundings, playing with my collar as I will Enzo to get my message.
The car stops and the door opens. I draw back and Eva’s fucking hideous face beams with glee as she pokes her head into the car.
“You’re so fucking precious, darling.”
“You’re such a fucking bitch.”
Her eyebrow shoots up, and the smile momentarily falls from her face. She recovers, but I’ve drawn first blood. It’s an insignificant win and it might not matter in the long run, but it shows I can surprise her, and I might need to remember that later.
When she’s using me to lure Enzo into whatever fucking trap she has in store.
When she’s trying to make me believe that there’s no way we can win this and it would be easier to surrender than endure.
When I’m exhausted and in pain and on the verge of breaking.
Eva slides in and there’s nothing elegant about her expression. She’s pure venom, unbridled hate. I don’t know what I’ve done to offend her, but there’s more to this than a power grab.
This is personal.
Deeply personal.
“Such a pretty face,” she snarls, leaning closer. “It’s almost a shame to ruin it.”
I smile, and she blinks, and then she has the fucking nerve to reach for me. I pull away, cowering against the car door. I look every inch the frightened human girl I want her to believe I am, and my trembling only makes the picture more perfect.
