“You said I could go home,” I told Vorkol. “Now would be a great time to honor that.” I caught a glimpse of Faris. He was shaking his head no to me.
Vorkol clicked her tongue. “You would have perished without that miserable looking blade. Without interference,” she said and turned her head in Faris’s direction. The mid-demon was looking at his shoes. “My igumo would have made a meal of your witch flesh.”
“Possibly,” I said. “But now we’ll never know. Will we?” I let out a sigh. Damn. Everything was spinning again. “But I still won. I want to leave now. The game is over.”
Vorkol’s eyes sparked. “You haven’t won, little bird.”
My heart sank. “Excuse me?” Was she for real? My blood pounded in my veins, but I kept my chin high as I said, “I won.” I glanced around the arena and spoke in a voice loud enough for every demon to hear. “Every demon here saw it. You saw it.”
A round of angry whispers and hushed comments went through the crowd of demons. A series of snickering laughter accompanied some of the quiet mumbles.
“You haven’t won until I say you’ve won,” Vorkol mused.
My insides twisted, and I required a concentrated effort not to scream. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You lying, red-eyed bitch. Faris had gone very, very still.
“It means exactly what I want it to mean.” Vorkol smiled without any teeth. “You mortal witches are usually so uncreative, so predictable. But you. No. You’re different. Special.” She hesitated. “You surprised me.”
“You’re welcome.”
Vorkol raised her perfect brows, but a smile haunted her mouth. “Things have been awfully boring of late. Killing you now, little bird, would be dull.”
Duvali’s eyes flashed with an impatient look, and his smile turned into a gritting of teeth, like he wanted to taste my flesh.
She let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “This isn’t the end of the entertainment. I haven’t finished playing with you, little bird. This is too good to pass up, too much fun.” She waved a hand in my general direction. “You are going to be very... useful.” A murmur of laughter from the seats echoed around me, hitting me like a fist in the gut.
I clamped my jaw. “Screw you.” Fury flared inside me. I was furious at her, but more at myself for letting myself believe she’d let me go. I was an idiot.
She’d never let me go—not until she got what she wanted, which meant until there was no more me to play with.
Vorkol leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. “All of this could have been avoided if only you told me how you did it.”
Here it comes.
Her expression darkened as she angled her head. “Tell me how you did it. Tell me how you killed Vargal, and you can go home.”
Right. Like I was going to believe her now. But I wanted to live. “We fought. I won. That’s it. There’s nothing to tell.” I wished I’d never crossed paths with the Greater demon Vargal.
Vorkol let out another laugh. “Little bird, that’s not even a halfway decent lie.”
“It’s what happened.” I swallowed back a wave of nausea. “You saw what I can do. I’m nothing special. Maybe I got lucky.”
I could never tell her the truth. Someone like her should never have power like mine. She would slaughter the humans by the masses along with all the half-breeds she could find. I couldn’t let that happen, even if it meant my death. I wouldn’t be responsible for all that death. I couldn’t live with myself.
I flicked my gaze back to the lizard demon, but he was gone. So was any trace of the spider’s entrails.
Duvali bent down and whispered in Vorkol’s ear. The Greater demon smiled as he straightened and said, “I’ll ask you one more time. Tell me how you killed Vargal, and all this goes away. You’ll be back in your world doing whatever it is that witches do. What is it exactly that you witches do?”
“Work their cauldrons,” said Duvali. “That’s all they can do. They don’t have real power.”
Another wave of laughter rolled through the arena, and my anger surged through me, cutting into my fever. God, I hated demons.
If I don’t have power, how did I kill your mate, eh?
Vorkol smiled, but I could see through her eyes that she knew I was holding back. She wouldn’t stop until she discovered what it was.
“You’ve decided your fate, little bird,” said Vorkol, leaning forward in her chair. “Until you tell me what I want to know, you will never leave this place. And the show must go on.”
Warning bells pealed in my mind.
Vorkol settled back in her chair and shouted, “Bring in the mouth-breather.”
Mouth-breather? Horror coiled in my gut.
The steel doors burst open again, and Andromalius strode into the arena. At first, I couldn’t see past the big minotaur’s shoulders and bulky body. A thick metal chain hung in his hand and he gave a yank at something behind him.
My gaze went to the crowd and found Faris. His normally olive complexion was ashen. His expression was startled, and his mouth was open in shock.
When Andromalius got closer to me, I gave out a little moan.
Dragging behind the minotaur, with a chain clasped around his neck, was Logan.
21
Logan.
No. This couldn’t be happening. The handsome angel-born, who’d kissed me and who I’d been fantasizing about naked shouldn’t be here, but he was shuffling behind the minotaur as they made their way towards me.
This was not how I’d pictured our next encounter—me naked, him naked and preferably on top of me.
A chill slithered down my spine. This was all kinds of wrong. I didn’t want to be here. And I especially didn’t want Logan here.
He was wearing blue jeans and a gray t-shirt. I recognized them as the same clothes I’d seen on him when he’d showed up at my place yesterday. But now they were stained with sweat and blood, his hair hanging lank and dirty. Purple and red bruises marred his face, and dried blood caked around his nose and the corners of his mouth. He looked like he’d put up a good fight.
His t-shirt was torn just above his right hip, and I could see a perfect, straight, three-inch cut, with dark, spidery veins standing out sharply against it—the mark of a death blade. So the higher demons had cut him to drag him here too.
I felt a surge of dizziness and swayed on my feet. Damnit. I was going to be sick.
Logan was here because of me. They had tortured him because of me. And now, he would die because of me.
I tried to make eye contact, but Logan stared at the ground, his expression set in stone.
Nice going, Sam. He’ll never ask you out now.
Andromalius stopped when he reached me and unlocked the shackle around Logan’s neck. The minotaur grabbed the chain with one hand. Then with the other, he shoved Logan down into the sand at my feet. Seemingly satisfied, the minotaur turned and moved to stand a few feet away.
Now, this was awkward. What do you say to the guy you have the hots for, who’s been beat up and dragged to Hell because of you? I had nothing. My mind was blank.
Logan rose to his feet, his features set in wrath.
I swallowed. “Logan, I’m so so—”