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I swung back around to find Farryn’s eyes had turned blood red. She opened her mouth on a loud screech, revealing a mouthful of fangs.
Fuck.
The chime of steel scraping against its scabbard signaled Vaszhago had pulled his sword, and I nabbed the dagger at my hip.
I couldn’t kill her. Even if I knew it wasn’t Farryn, I couldn’t stab a lookalike. And I’d be damned if I’d let Vaszhago kill her, either. As he charged toward the Mortunath in the hallway, I barreled toward the Farryn imposter, knocking her backward onto the bed. A wild glint lit her eyes as I held her pinned to the mattress, and she wrapped her leg around me, rubbing herself against me. “Tell me you don’t want to fuck me right now,” she rasped in a tone that held a demonic pitch.
“I do not want to fuck you right now.”
Her face morphed before me, and suddenly, I was staring down at the succubus I’d killed back in the woods. The sight of her jolted my muscles, and I pushed away from her.
“Do you prefer this face?” Teeth bared again, she pounced toward me.
I sliced the dagger across the front, along her throat, and jabbed her in the skull. Her body exploded into a cloud of black dust.
Screeching from outside snapped my attention toward the window, and I strode toward it, staring down at the front lawn of the house. About a hundred of the Mortunath crawled over each other to get to the front door.
Vaszhago strode up beside me, wiping his sword on a scrap of cloth he’d collected from somewhere. He tossed it away and groaned. “Fuck me.”
58
FARRYN
Isqueezed water from the hem of my dress, as we kept on down the corridor. The chill on the air had me shivering, teeth chattering, probably drawing more of those creatures after us.
“Farryn!” The sound of my name brought me to a screeching halt, and I turned around, my chest expanding with a held breath.
I stood frozen in place, part of me not really trusting my sight in a realm that had deceived me so many times already. “Soreth?”
“Where’s Jericho?” Vespyr whispered beside me, and I looked past Soreth to find no one else following after him.
“Are you alone?” I curled the blade into my palm, preparing myself for the possibility that he might be a demon. “Is Jericho here?”
“Yeah. He and Vaszhago are looking for you. We broke off and separated.”
“Broke off? There’s only one path in a fucking labyrinth,” Vespyr snapped, clearly not trusting the angel’s presence any more than I did.
“They checked a couple rooms. I decided to go ahead of them.”
“So, they’re behind you?” Again, I looked past him, praying I’d see Jericho striding up out of those shadows.
“No. I think they’re ahead of you. Jericho’s plan is to meet in the center. That’s the way out.”
Relief curled through my veins like a shot of warm liquor. “So, there is a way out of this hellhole.”
“There is, yes.”
I frowned back at him, my suspicions bubbling to the surface again. “How did you get here?”
“I was minding my own business, in my cell, when suddenly, the wall opened to a corridor.” He shrugged. “I was curious.”
“Curious. Right.”
That damned screeching echoed down the hall again, and I let out an exasperated groan. “I am just about tired of that freaking sound.”
“Same.” Vespyr took the lead toward the door where we were headed before Soreth had interrupted.
“It seems the labyrinth is designed so that each room puts you farther ahead,” I said, following after Vespyr.
