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“Thank the devils you’ve found me,” I say, keeping my voice low. Sweat prickles along my hairline. I try to summon my bravery, but the demonic woman sets off my human instincts that scream she’s a predator, and I’m in danger. “This asshole thinks he could use me to get into the Higher Power’s good grace by offering me to the saviors. My soul keepers will heavily reward you for returning me to them.”
I clutch the rod, preparing for the worst. Demons are tricky. They don’t necessarily work together or think about anything other than what they can gain. I’m just hoping she’s smart enough to consider the consequences of hurting me compared to the possible rewards for her help.
“Return you to them? No, honey. That isn’t happening,” she responds, tapping her nail to the flimsy door.
I shuffle away as quietly as I can, realizing she knows I had moved and plans to sneak attack me. A crack sounds through the air, and I startle, deadpanning at the sight of her four-inch claws penetrating the door. Dragging her hand lower, she scratches five jagged lines down the door, letting in beams of light from the torch lamp illuminating the room.
“The reward is far greater if I keep you for myself,” the demonic woman says, hacking her nails horizontally, ripping a hole in the door. “Haven’t you heard? Lucian is offering a throne to the one who can properly control you.”
Purring, the woman jabs her arm into the closet, swiping her furry paw through the empty air. Bone-like spines jut from the inside of her forearm, curling upward. The sharp spines look as if they can gut someone if slashed just right, and the sight of them trembling and twitching twists my stomach into knots.
I do the only thing I can think of. Swinging the rod, I slam it against her arm, my strength powerful enough to break her bone. I’ve never been so thankful for one of the small perks of being soul-bound to a devil, but I’ll take what I can get. Shrieking, the demonic woman jerks her oddly bent arm out, only to replace it with her head. Long, wiry whiskers flutter from the rotting flesh of her face, her hellish glory ripping through the human shell she inhabits. Because demons must use humans to anchor themselves to this plane unlike my devils. Their angelic façades came first. It’s their devilish forms they summon instead of the other way around.
The sight of the demonic woman shocks me into swinging the clothes rod again, trying to get her away. This time, she jerks out of the way and instead of entering the closet, she locks her claws to the broken slider and rips it off the track completely.
“Stay back!” I shout, trying to jab her with the splintered end of the rod. “Lucian won’t give you a throne unless I make some damn angels fall, and there is no fucking way I’ll do it to help you.”
Snatching the rod from me, she drags it toward her. I stumble, unable to steady myself, and the demon swipes her clawed fingers at me, snagging the front of my dress. I can’t scramble away fast enough, and she yanks me toward her and out of the closet.
I buck and thrash my body, trying to break out of her hold. She bares her fangs at me, yowling like a hungry cat instead of roaring like Kase would in his gigantic feline form. Where he’s almost lion-like, this demon is like a feral stray, thinking she’s powerful for her ability to catch me like a mouse. But catching mice won’t ever prove her power. She’ll have to try harder than this to take a devil’s throne.
“Is that so?” she mutters, twitching her nose. “Maybe you’ll reconsider when I’m through with you.”
Slamming my back to the wall, the woman leans into me, capturing me in her yellow gaze. I cringe at the sensation of her rough, sand-paper tongue scratching across my cheek. My skin burns, making my eyes water. She might be a lowly predator, but she can obviously still hurt me.
“Please, you don’t have to do this,” I say, blinking the tears from my eyes. “There must be another way. We can make a deal.”
A smile widens across the woman’s face. “Or I can peel every inch of skin off you with my tongue. Maybe then you’ll realize you’ll do whatever I say. Lucian might have a contract on your soul, but I have your body. You can survive a lot, you know.” She draws her tongue across her lips, showing off the blood-red appendage with what look like hair-thin spikes. Shit. No wonder it hurt. Can I die from a thousand tiny cuts? I’m afraid I’ll find out.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please.”
The demonic woman leans closer, dragging her tongue along my jaw. I scream in pain, thrashing and trying to kick her, but she only tightens her grip.
“Help me!” I yell, tensing as she draws her tongue closer, aiming for my neck next. “God, please! Please!”
Too bad the Higher Power will never hear my prayers.
Why do I even bother?
Chapter 2
Reincarnation
RAVEN
YELLOW LIQUID SPLASHES across my face, stinging my skin. I stare in shock as a long blade protrudes from the woman’s neck, spilling her weird-colored blood down the front of her torn shirt. Stretching open her mouth, she tries to scream, but no sound escapes her thin lips. I can’t pull away from her before a bucket of water cascades over us. My skin cools as I watch the demon burn. A cloud of putrid smoke wafts through the air, and the demonic woman falls to her knees. Elias stands behind her, a bucket by his feet and his long blade clutched in his hand.
I recoil, trying to back up, but the wall traps me in place. I can’t do anything except for watch as Elias swings the long dagger with enough force to cut the demon’s head clean off. I heave a breath, retching at the disgusting sight. My empty stomach does nothing to help me. Elias flicks his gaze at me for a split second and shakes his head like he can’t believe my reaction. Locking his fingers to the demon’s severed head, he lifts it up and drops it into the bucket.
My mind is total mush as I try to process what’s happening. He doesn’t even look fazed by decapitation, which reminds me of Dante. This man has clearly done this before, because he lifts the bucket from the floor and strolls from the room like he has a plan. I watch in silence and without moving as Elias struts away.
From my spot, I get a good view of the empty living room and open kitchen. Elias flings open a cupboard, revealing dozens of jugs of water. While I can guess that they’re not intended for drinking, I still can’t process what’s going on. He snags a jug from the lowest shelf and begins pouring the water into the bucket. My only thought is that the stuff is holy water. I can’t think of anything else that might hurt a demon like this. I’m also nearly certain it’s what he used to get me away from Dante.
Smoke billows from the bucket, and I cover my nose and mouth, trying to filter the awful air the best I can. Elias abandons the demon’s head on the counter, returning to me—or I guess the demon’s body—and he drags it toward the small bathroom.
“Grab the candle from the dresser, will you?” he asks, twisting to glance at me still frozen in my spot. “There is a lighter next to my smokes on my nightstand.” No wonder he’s constantly hacking.
My feet automatically start taking me across the room to follow his instructions despite my mind yelling at me to get my shit together. I shouldn’t be helping this asshole. I should be running as fast as I can and getting away from him.
