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And I did love him, however imperfect he had been, I had been there for him as he was. I loved every broken part of him. But not even love could mend his cracks.

“Tell his deputy that Sheriff Valen has approved the shipment of bodies. The future travels will require a sacrifice. We can’t have Immorcantem without bodies, can we?”

“What do I do with Cassandra? She’s been on me all day for this next batch. She wants to take it back to London, says she has a contact by the name of Indigo Stern paying a lot of money,” Killian says.

“It will come. We just finished another hunt and Christian’s pushing for us to hold steady,” Kieran responds, haughtily.

Why would Christian be pushing for this?

“Are the…hunts necessary? Could we do this any quicker?” Killian asks, skeptically.

“Killian—with all due respect. You know nothing of demon anatomy. Short answer, no I can’t speed it up. Hunting them allows the essence of power to be imbued and if we have power imbued, then longevity is increased. Can’t you see? I’m closer to true immortality than ever before.” A wild bark of laughter spills from Kieran’s lips.

Taking a deep breath, I wrack my brain for a new plan. Taking him by force is not going to work.

Fuck.

The lights flicker a few times and then the cavern is drenched in darkness. There’s a shuffle and clink of chains from behind me.

“What is that sound?” Killian’s voice echoes around the vast space.

There is only the noise of breathing and a distant march.

“Go check it out,” Kieran says, exasperated. “I can’t let him wake up, the transfer is almost done.”

Once I hear the footsteps of Killian disappear down the tunnel, I pad lightly toward Kieran, heavy candelabra wielded in my hand. I’m fumbling in the dark but I can make out the general outline of his body highlighted against the red glow of his chambers. He was harvesting bodies to send to the Limina where their blood is strengthened. The stronger the blood, the lengthier the life.

What a strange occupation to be engaged in.

Before I can strike, Kieran turns and barrels into me, his hands gripping my waist tightly and lifting me up and into a nearby trolley. Pain shoots up my spine; breath knocked straight from my core.

“Marisa?” It’s not the tone I expect from him, a mix between regret and anger. It’s almost like I’d betrayed him.

A loud crash echoes from the tunnel, then a smattering of rock dislodges from the ceiling and crumbles to the floor.

A familiar screech accompanies a string of expletives. “Looks like your demons have come to collect.” I hiss.

“How…?” He has the audacity to look remorseful, still holding me tightly; body wedged between my legs. There had been a time when this was all I wanted from him. Clumsily I land the candelabra against his ribs, giving me enough time to wriggle free and over to Christian.

Hurriedly, I search the table for a key, glancing at the scars that now riddle his body and the permanent etch of anguish riddled in his brow.

Kieran tackles me from behind, twisting me so that my back hits the cool stone. His bloody hands encircle me at the waist. Pinning my arms behind my head, he leans into my face. “How? You can’t be here. They will kill you.”

His gaze travels to the relic and realization dawns on his face. The key he’d used in the Limina to unlock Daisy’s room is tied around his neck. I lean closer, ghosting my lips over his. “Your hubris allowed me to stray quite far.” I push him off with a kick and clamber around the table.

There is no taking Kieran down swiftly, he is equivalent in stride and stature to that of Christian’s.

“Marisa!” He roars as I narrowly slip by him and toward the chambers.

Kieran chases me around the room, and I narrowly escape by crawling through tables, under chairs, and behind the chambers. There, I find discarded scalpels.

His fingers thread through my hair and drags me backward, slinging me against a cabinet filled with vials, toppling the contents. Shards of glass press into my skin, pricking me from my head to my toe. Blood seeps through my already soaked clothing. It seems I am destined for torture whether of the soul or body.

“Oh my god, Marisa.” Kieran kneels in front of me; his hands splayed in panic. He starts to reach for a jagged shard that dangles nastily from my shoulder.

I slap his hand away.

“You left me to die in a chamber and now you’re worried?” I grab the scalpel and aim straight for his shoulder, his left hand reaches out, circling around my wrist. Shock registers across his face, then slowly his mouth morphs into a snarl and all I can see are sharp teeth ready to devour me. I kick hard and he stumbles backward. But he’s fast and he reaches for my leg pulling me to him. I scream and kick him away but it makes him work harder.