My heart pounded. This was not good.
Vorkol screamed one last time. Then through the flames, her eyes opened against the torment just as another sound came from her lips. Laughter.
With a pop of displaced air, the flames that had been burning her a second ago vanished, revealing the perfectly tailored blue silk and lace dress. There wasn’t a scorch mark on it, or on her.
Now I was is deep doo-doo.
The ballroom exploded in loud applause and praises, and the demoness took a bow, as though she’d just finished her performance on stage.
I clenched my jaw. She’d just played me.
Vorkol fixed her gaze back on mine, seeing the anger simmering there, and her pale skin darkened.
The smile she gave me was truly serpentine, and it terrified me.
“My turn,” she said.
Oh. Shit. Now I felt fear.
I had a second of doubt. I could have tried to protect myself, but what was the point.
She attacked.
Tendrils of darkness shot from her outstretched hands and ripped into me. The world flipped over, and pain lit through me as the demon’s magic, raw and unfiltered, ripped through my body to my soul and began to consume it. It was hard to explain, but I knew that’s what she was doing. She was eating away at my soul.
Panic surged and I jerked, instinct moving in as I tried to tap into my rings. The pain was too intense and I lost my focus. I fell to the floor as her demon magic flowed in me. The pain was so powerful, black spots marred my vision.
I was dying. Or I was about to pass out.
Laughter reached me and I looked up to find Vorkol standing over me, her eyes wide with excitement and hunger for my soul. I blinked through my tears and saw a thin white veil, like a mist pulling away from my body and into that black jewel around her neck. In my pain, I could see a part of my soul slipping into her, my strength going with it.
Somehow I knew it wasn’t all of my soul, only part of it. But something was different. I felt weak and feverish like I had the flu. If she kept this up, I was a very dead witch.
“Tell me how you killed Vargal,” came Vorkol’s voice, “and I’ll make the pain go away.”
“Bite me, princess,” I wheezed. Yeah, not the smartest thing to say, but she had just stolen a part of my soul.
The last thing I saw was Vorkol’s face twisting in a grimace before she hit me again with her darkness.
I tried to move out of the way, but it was too late. The tendrils hit and lifted me off the ground, flinging me across the ballroom like a rag doll. I hit a pillar—or at least I think it was a pillar but it could have been a wall—and dropped to the floor. I couldn’t breathe. I slid to the floor in a crumpled pile of limbs, my cheek on the cold stone tile.
This was not how I planned to spend my night.
I rolled onto my stomach, clenching in pain. My sight went gray at the pain and I nearly passed out. My face rubbed onto the hard floor as I coughed the acid-like air every time I took a breath.
Vorkol’s skirts swished as she walked towards me, a collection of rustling fabric whispers, carrying the scent of sulfur and rotten onions. “Tell me!” she howled. Her wig slipped over her brow and she pushed it back. Her red eyes darkened, and my fear slid deeper and twisted in my gut. “Tell me, or I will tear you apart. You can spend eternity down here in your cage, with no arms, no legs, and no soul,” she cried, full of an unsatisfied hunger. Vorkol was a predator. She killed to take what she wanted, but she wouldn’t take me.
I knew Vorkol would play with me until she ripped me apart and took all of my soul.
But a faint whisper of self-preservation forced me to turn my head and face her, or maybe I was just crazy and stupid. Perhaps a little bit of both.
My lips parted, but nothing was coming out. My body shook with pain. My head lolled to the side because I didn’t have the strength to keep it straight. Straining, I tried to spindle the magic from my rings, but I was only an empty shell. The magic I’d felt before was gone, and I didn’t have the energy to will it back.
Before I knew what was happing, I heard the sharp sound of flesh smacking flesh. When the pain hit, I realized it had been my flesh. My face.
The world lurched, and I hit the cold polished floors again. A pained sob escaped me as I lay on the floor in a crumpled heap, my breath a whisper and my lungs burning with every intake of air.
“Duvali. Take those rings off of her,” I heard Vorkol say and my eyes snapped open.
A mask-less demon male loomed over me. Though he, too, shared the humanoid features, they were gaunt and repulsive somehow, like they didn’t fit. He almost seemed as though he was still wearing a mask made of flesh. His skin was pale gray, and his large, crooked nose seemed like it might have been broken a few times. He was tall and thin, with mousy brown hair, and to me, he looked like he might have been a scarecrow in some lifetime past. There was no beauty in his features, just a twisted malice, as though inflicting pain to others was his favorite thing.
The demon named Duvali reached down, yanked my hand forcefully, and pulled off my rings from both hands. Then he placed them in Vorkol’s waiting palm.
I looked up at her, and when she was sure I was watching, she made a fist with her hand, her lips moving in some demonic curse. When she opened her hand a moment later, all that remained of my golden sigil rings was a pile of golden dust.
Vorkol laughed and wiped her hands, golden dust falling about her skirts to the floor like sheets of golden pixie dust. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you, little bird.”
Well, now I was neck-deep in the crapper.
The crowd of demons parted, and then a familiar face appeared amongst them—one I’d seen only a few hours ago—looking pale and terrified. I’d never seen those emotions on the mid-demon’s face before.
Faris’s lips moved, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying. My heart pounded. He stood there, jaw clenched, his expression shifting from shock and fear to something I didn’t understand.
He didn’t come to me. He didn’t help. He just stood there, watching my helplessness and pain.
It was a surprisingly painful moment of realization that he’d just leave me here to die. But what did I expect? He was a demon.
I pulled my eyes away, but before I could stop them, the tears fell. They just did. I was exhausted, and seeing Faris there—watching me get my ass kicked but doing nothing to stop it—was worse than the pain Vorkol had inflicted on me.
I wasn’t a robot, and this hurt like a bitch because I thought he was my friend. I thought a demon was my friend. It sounded absurd. I was a fool.
“You will tell me how you did it before you die,” said Vorkol, her voice a triumphant hiss, and her wig slipped to the side of her head again. “That’s a promise.” She straightened as though she’d won some victory and said, “Put the bird back in her cage where she belongs.”
I turned to the sound of a something heavy approaching and Andromalius stepped in my line of sight, still stinking of sulfur and manure.
“Up,” ordered the minotaur. I’d forgotten all about him.
I tried to move, but I couldn’t even feel my legs or my arms anymore. The world spun and I strained to keep my head up. I blinked but couldn’t stop the darkness that crept into my vision.
Andromalius grabbed my arm and the darkness took me.