Gray
We walked briskly down a long, carpeted corridor decorated with garish orange-and-gold walls and a ridiculous number of chandeliers. Ronan stayed a few steps ahead of me no matter how hard I tried to match his pace, his angry footfalls audible even with the carpeting. The hellhounds trailed on my heels—Sebastian’s insurance policy that I wouldn’t bolt the first chance I got.
It was almost laughable. Where would I go? How could a demon sworn witch on a death march back to hell via some chintzy, overdone Vegas hotel possibly escape?
You must seek your own sword…
The voices from my vision on the hell boat floated through my mind, but at the moment, I had no idea what to do with that bit of advice. My own sword? From the sound of things, I’d be lucky if Sebastian even let me use a nail file again.
Better for him to keep me away from sharp objects. First chance I got, I’d be jamming something into his jugular, weather he was an immortal demon or not.
The corridor continued on forever, twisting and turning, taking us past doors that remained shut and walls that revealed nothing about my destination. After what felt like hours, we finally reached a large oak door that looked different from the rest, carved with strange symbols that glowed faintly at our approach.
Demon codes. Hell glyphs. Runes. I couldn’t decipher any of them.
Ronan pressed his palm to the door, and the symbols pulsed brighter, rearranging into a different pattern. He turned to look at me over his shoulder and met my gaze, our noses nearly bumping, the warmth of his breath brushing my lips.
“Whatever you do,” he whispered, “whatever you say, donotanger him. Sebastian is prone to melodrama and overreacting, and no matter what you might think, healwayshas the upper hand. Remember that.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe there’s a bargaining chip we haven’t—”
“There isn’t, Gray. As long as you stand to lose something, he’ll find it and exploit the hell out of it. There’s nothing you can do here but listen and obey.”
Obey.The word sent a shiver down my spine even as it filled me with indignation. I’d known what I was signing up for—at least, as far as committing myself to Sebastian before my time—but at the time I was more concerned with getting out of hell. Sometimes, you just had to deal with one shiststorm at a time.
But now the next storm was upon me, and I had to figure out my game plan—preferably before I was put in irons or sent into the fiery dungeons.
Because no matter what the contract said, no matter what the laws and order of the crossroads and hell and the Shadowrealm and everywhere else maintained, I wasnoone’s prisoner.
* * *
The runes faded back to a faint glow, and the door swung open, the force of whatever was on the other side beckoning me to enter. The room was small, and as dark and cold as a refrigerator. I’d barely gotten a glimpse of it when the big door slammed shut behind me, the sound of it making my heart rattle.
There were no windows, and every corner was hidden in shadow. I could just make out a long table at the center of the room, with two figures seated in high-backed chairs at one end. The only light came from a thick black candle flickering at the center of the table.
“Gray Desario,” a slimy voice called forth from the shadows. I couldn’t see the man’s face, but I knew immediately who the voice belonged to. Ronan had always said Sebastian sounded like Colonel Sanders peddling used cars. “We’ve been waiting a long time for your arrival.”
He leaned forward, his face illuminated by the candle. Instinctively I took a step back, reaching behind me for the familiar solidity of Ronan, but I was suddenly immobilized. I no longer had control of my body—it lurched forward, then marched itself forward to the table.
“Is that really necessary?” Ronan asked.
“Remember your place, boy,” Sebastian barked.
Inside, my magic stirred, bringing my blood from a simmer to a boil. But outside, I was a prisoner in my own body, unable to move. Unable to blink. Unable to breathe. It was a wonder my heart was still beating. I was pretty sure Sebastian could’ve stopped that, too.
I’d never felt so utterly powerless. Not even when Travis had me pinned in the alley, or Jonathan had taken me prisoner. Not when Norah put a hold spell on me. Not even when I’d been trapped in the cellar watching my mother burn.
He’d wanted me to feel that way. To know the score here.
Just when I thought I’d explode from the fear, Sebastian’s invisible bonds released me. I gasped, sucking in air, stumbling to the nearest chair and collapsing in it.
Ronan stood at my back, the hounds taking their places at my sides. Though he hadn’t said another word since Sebastian’s reprimand, I could feel the anger rolling off him, the ferocity of his love for me warming the air around me. I clung to it—the one good thing still standing in this place, no matter what curse Sebastian had put on us.
“Now that we all understand each other…” Sebastian drawled. “Gray. How are you feeling after you’re long journey?”
You are going to die a slow, painful, horrific death. I will carve you into pieces. Set the pieces on fire. And eat the ashes of your bones.
Out loud, I said nothing.
