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“Not a chance.” I gave him a tight smile. “Think of me as your chaperone. I’m not about to give you any opportunity to hurt her.” Beyond him, I saw Janice taking in her surroundings: the circle of trampled grass, the odd dimensions of the little house, the black slab at the center of it all. Her expression shifted to a scowl, and I could only assume she was pissed about the state of his prison. Great. I knew she wasn’t manipulated, but that didn’t rule out Stockholm Syndrome.
“Why did you bring her here?” Rhyzkahl demanded, anger coloring his words.
“She asked to see you,” I said, taking a small pleasure in the frustration that tightened his face. Thanks to the arcane constraints and my shielding, he couldn’t read me or her, which had to be driving him nuts.
Janice stepped forward. “Yes, I did. And would prefer to do so without a chaperone. Rhyzkahl won’t hurt me.”
“Yes, because the protections Mzatal set won’t allow him to. Physically, at least. But I don’t want him to say anything that’ll twist you up inside either.”
A muscle twitched in Rhyzkahl’s jaw. “I am caged. She is free. Do you choose to oppress her as well?”
“I’m not trying to oppress her!” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m trying to protect her from you, because I know what you’re capable of.”
Janice threw her hands up in the air. “I don’t need your protection.”
I cursed under my breath. “Look, Janice,” I said as calmly as I could manage, “I’m not the enemy here, though I’m sure it must seem that way. Traumatic experiences can really tangle loyalties. I know you’ve been through a lot of terrible shit, and I’m sorry any of it happened to you. I’m just doing my best to get everyone who was kidnapped and trafficked in the demon realm released and given whatever help they need to deal with what happened.”
Her mouth dropped open in a silent O, then she turned toward Rhyzkahl with a look I couldn’t interpret at all.
“Go,” he told her, curt and short. “Address this matter that we may be done with it.”
“Gladly,” she muttered then stalked toward me. “Let’s take this inside,” she said, passing me on her way to the house.
Gee, this day was turning out super extra peachy.
She rounded on me the instant I stepped into the kitchen. “What kind of messed up ‘prison’ is that?” She flung an arm in the direction of the back yard. “Murderers on death row have more room to move than he does! And where in heaven’s name did you get the idea I was some sort of sex slave? Just who do you think you are to be—”
“Sit down and shut up!” I roared, backing it with just a touch of potency.
She closed her mouth with a snap and flung herself into a chair, gaze murderous.
“Do you remember that young man with Lord Kadir?” I didn’t wait for an acknowledgement before storming on. “That’s Paul Ortiz. He was a gifted programmer and hacker, living in Albuquerque until the day that a businessman by the name of James Macklin Farouche had him kidnapped so that he could exploit Paul’s talents. Amber Palatino Galvan was a beautiful young woman who was kidnapped by Farouche’s people and then raped, tortured and murdered as part of a ritual meant to target me—one that was orchestrated by your boyfriend out there.” I let out a humorless bark of laughter. “We won’t even get into what he did to me. But as for J.M. Farouche, he had business competitors assassinated, and disloyal employees tortured and killed. A number of people besides yourself were kidnapped by his underlings and delivered to Rhyzkahl to be taken to the demon realm. But you’re right, I had no business whatsoever to try to free women who I truly believe are—at best—being held against their will and—at worst—trafficked as sex slaves.” I tossed my hands up. “What the hell was I thinking!”
Her defiance had drained away during my speech to the point that she now seemed cowed. I lowered myself into the chair across from her and eased my aching leg. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s been a shitty couple of months.”
She exhaled softly. “I was wrong to jump down your throat. Of course it would look like sex trafficking to an outside observer. Before I left Earth, I certainly thought that’s what I’d fallen into.”
“But you were kidnapped, right?”
She lifted her eyes to mine. “Yes, we were all kidnapped, but none of us are being held against our will, and we certainly aren’t being used as sex slaves.”
I shook my head in the vain hope it would help everything make sense. “Then why were y’all snatched?”
A faint smile touched her mouth. “The lords wanted . . . companions. Conversation. Human interaction. All of us who were brought to the demon realm are sharp cookies. Not a dummy among us.”
“Huh,” I said while I tried to rejigger my entire outlook. A piece clicked into place. Around a year ago or so, I’d questioned demonic lord Vahl about his relationship with Michelle Cleland, who Rhyzkahl had taken to the demon realm after the Symbol Man offered her as a sacrifice. Vahl had said the lords all missed humans, though some wouldn’t admit it. Michelle now lived quite happily with Elofir, and definitely wasn’t forced or manipulated. “Huh,” I said again then frowned. “Hang on. Seretis told me that the captives were being held against their will.”
Janice rolled her eyes. “Seretis doesn’t know anything. He’s not an ally of Rhyzkahl’s, so he was kept in the dark about the real deal.”
And was probably fed misinformation as well, I mused. Seretis had negotiated with Amkir to obtain Michael, fearing that the young man might be mistreated. Of course Amkir would encourage that assumption to get more out of the deal.
But I had a feeling Seretis had gained far more than he’d lost.
On the other hand, even though Janice hadn’t been manipulated, she might not have had full disclosure on the other abductees. She hadn’t mentioned the two men who Seretis reported as killed by Kadir. I couldn’t take her belief at face value until I confirmed it with Mzatal, or saw for myself.
“So you haven’t slept with Rhyzkahl?” I asked.
She chuckled low. “I never said that. But there was no coercion. Or manipulation.”
