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“Let’s do this,” she whispered. He saw the tips of her fangs, white against the red of her lips, and his heart ached. Ana DeLacrux was his and he would do whatever it took
to claim their destiny.
He just needed to take care of a few things first.
He blew out a hot breath and flexed his fingers. They were ready.
“You get to those kids and let me deal with the others. If all goes well we’ll make it out at the same time. If not . . .” He shook his head as his words drifted into silence.
Her eyes shone something fierce and a blush rose in her pale cheeks. “I’ll get them to safety, but I’m telling you right now if you don’t get your ass out, I will come back for you.”
A spark of anger touched him and Declan frowned. “You will do no such thing.”
She rolled her shoulders and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “First of all, you’re not the boss of me.” She glanced up at him, and unease rifled through Declan. The look on her face was one he was familiar with. He didn’t like it. It usually meant the shit was about to—
“And secondly, I’m sick of this place. It’s dirty, cold, full of creeps, and I need a bath. A long, hot soak in the tub. So I suggest you”—her booted foot shot out and splintered the door in two—“get your ass in gear ’cause I’m done talking.”
Son of a bitch!
The door was now on its hinges and she was through it before he had a chance to react.
“If you’re a good boy I’ll let you join me.” Her words drifted back to him and galvanized him into action.
Declan jumped through, his hands loose and ready, his fingertips sizzling as his magick burned hot.
He was hit with a wall of cold, his nostrils tightening in reaction as he exhaled. The smell of fear, pain, and suffering was tenfold. Fog slithered along the floor, licking his legs as he stood, gathering his bearings. It was the same as he remembered. A large, cavernlike space, with cold, wet stone walls that jutted up nearly twenty feet.
Water dripped constantly, the sound of it echoing into the silence—which was thick, solid, and eerie.
The entire room was a wash of gray. There was no color, no life—only a dull palette of pain.
Images, scenes from his past, played out in front of him, and Declan had to blink his eyes in an effort to banish them. Yet he could taste it, feel it in his mind, and the intensity of them hit hard.
Long blond hair, limbs entwined around his own—blood—there was always so much blood. Screams and the echoes of long-ago sins.
“Declan!”
He shook his head and stared down into the face of the one woman who could save him.
“Let’s do this. You and I. Don’t let the ghosts overshadow you.”
Swiftly his lips grazed hers, his tongue passing over her mouth, infusing her body with a hot zap of energy. Her eyes widened, their liquid depths glistening, and she smiled.
“I love you,” she whispered, and turned away, disappearing into the swirling fog.
Hissing noises intruded on the moment and Declan squared his shoulders, his arms flung wide as he turned to face Lilith’s pets. A savage smile tore at his mouth and he moved forward with purpose. He was no longer a weak, castrated man, but a sorcerer filled with power, infused with the strength of a vampire.
“Come on, you slimy bastards.” His eyes carefully scanned the room. “Let’s have at it.”
The tallest one appeared first, his massive frame emerging from the mist in a lazy I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way. The creature was well over eight feet in height, humanoid in looks except for the fact that its skin was hard-shelled scales that shone an iridescent blue.
And it had two heads.
Two sets of eyes were trained on him, both glowing crimson as two long, forked tongues flickered out into the air, testing the vibrations that hung there. He knew the demon couldn’t see all that well, but its sense of smell was powerful.
The mouths opened and spoke in unison. “We are surprised you’ve returned.” A hiss escaped, like air leaving a balloon. “We look forward to imparting much pain. The queen will be pleased.”
Declan was light on his feet as he moved to the right. “I see you boys still talk like E.T.” He flashed a smile. “Want some Reese’s Pieces?” His smile turned dark and he snarled, “Or would you prefer I send your fucking ass home?”
