My heart did five summersaults, two jumping jacks, and a backflip for the finale. Damn, those were some fine eyes... and those lips...
My pulse quickened, and my breath came and went.
Logan exhaled. “You’re the craziest witch I’ve ever met.”
“How sweet of you to say.”
“And I also think you’re pretty amazing.”
My mouth fell open. “You just gave me a compliment. Do you realize you just gave me a compliment? You, an angel-born, complimenting a dark witch?”
Logan laughed, and the sound sent my heart thrashing in my chest. “I guess I did.”
“You did.” A smile crept along my face.
“We might die tonight,” said Logan, shifting his body and causing his thigh to rub against mine again. Those were some nice, tight, muscled thighs. I couldn’t help but picture him naked again. I was a seriously demented witch.
“We might,” I agreed, the truth of his words hitting me hard. His face was so very close to mine...
So, what does one do when staring death in the face?
Something stupid, of course.
I grabbed his face between my hands and crushed my lips against his.
Logan flinched in surprise, his eyes wide in a shocked expression, but then he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me closer, kissing me back—slow at first and then harder. A quick hint of his tongue sent a spike of desire to my core.
Damn, he was a good kisser. Even better than I’d remembered.
My breath left me in a moan as I eased against him, one arm wrapped around his neck and the other in his hair, feeling his muscles tighten. His grip on my shoulders was firm with desire and it was all I could do to keep from ripping off his clothes.
Pulse fast, I pulled away, sucking on his bottom lip one last time.
“What was that for?” asked Logan. His eyes flashed, and his lips were red from my abuse.
I shrugged. “You said we might die.” And I wanted to kiss you one last time, you fool. To see if I was still into you. Hell yeah.
A wicked grin spread over Logan’s face. Desire flashed in his eyes, which had my pulse rising again. “We might die,” he said again, eyebrows high, expectant.
I smiled. Naughty boy.
I couldn’t look away from his eyes as I grabbed his face again and crushed my lips onto his. Yup, I was a dirty little witch.
His lips pushed aggressively against mine, tasting of salt. Logan shifted his weight, pressing me into him as he pulled me onto his lap. His hands moved under my shirt, and the roughness of his calluses sent my skin riddling in goose bumps. Sensing my desire, his touch became aggressive, and hot ribbons of anticipation spiraled through my core.
We couldn’t do this. It was too much. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It was too damn good.
I pulled away again before things got out of hand and we were both naked, our bodies clunking in the cage. Yes, I wanted it to happen, just not here. I didn’t want to have sex with Logan in a damn cage in the Netherworld.
“We can’t do this now,” I panted, still sitting on his lap and facing him.
“I know,” he answered, his hands around my waist. “But it was nice—”
The sound of wrenching metal pierced the air, and our cage started shuddering. I whipped my gaze through the metal bars and my heart sank.
Andromalius stood on the platform, his thick hand on a lever.
Damn. I’d never even heard the minotaur enter the cave.
Then our cage shifted and fell.
23
“How did you kill Vargal?” Vorkol’s voice echoed up through the arena. Her tone was demanding and expectant, the voice of a queen. “Tell me now, and you and your... friend can go home.” There was an evil delight to her voice, cementing my anger. She was really enjoying this.
She’d tossed her red pant suit for a light silver one. Straight, black hair hung from her head to her shoulders with straight bangs cut in the Cleopatra style. Probably another wig.
“What will it be, little bird?” Vorkol said, testing the words on her tongue. “You promised me an answer.”
“I didn’t,” I answered, making sure my voice rang out for everyone to hear and glad it was even. The fever in me ran higher every minute, and I didn’t know how much longer I could withstand the poisonous air. We needed to get out of here, and soon.
Vorkol sighed and ran her hand over the arm of her chair. “I would have thought you would have learned your lesson by now.”
“School was never my thing.”
Logan snorted next to me, too low for anyone else but me to hear. Having him with me, fighting alongside one another, gave me a new sense of courage, but it also doubled my sense of urgency. I was responsible for him. He was here because of me, and I needed to get him out.
The plan was to fight off whatever she’d throw at us, keep her entertained, stay alive one more day, and hope Faris could help us find a Rift—and get the hell out of this place.
Yeah. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one we had. We needed to stay alive for as long as we could.
“What happened to your rings?” asked Logan, his eyes on my hands. The question heightened his expression, having only just noticed them missing.
My gaze flicked back to the Greater demon. Duvali was whispering something in her ear. “She destroyed them.” My jaw clenched in sudden hatred. I could always make new ones, but I happened to really like that pair.
Logan hesitated. “Can you do your blood magic again?”
I looked down at my left hand. “I better,” I said, and pulled off my left glove. “Because it’s all I have.”
Now that I knew I could use my blood magic, I could use some of my spells, though I didn’t know how effective they would be, never having used them with blood magic before.
“Give it here,” said Logan. He took my glove and slipped it in his jean pocket.
I quickly undid Logan’s makeshift bandage and squeezed my palm. Dark blood pooled out freely. Next, I dipped my right index finger in my blood and drew the fire sigil on my left arm. Just below that, I drew the sigil for wind.
I wasn’t even sure they would work in the Netherworld, but I was about to find out.
I yanked Faris’s dagger out of my pocket “Here, take it,” I said. “You probably know how to use it better than I do.” The fact that the minotaur had let us keep it wasn’t a good sign.
Logan grabbed the dagger in his right hand. “Thanks.”
Adrenaline stabbed through me as my gaze flicked across the arena and the crowds of assembled demons, wondering if these were the same demons as before. It was impossible to tell. Everyone was clad in rich, colorful clothing, made of fine silk and embroidered with golds and silvers and reds. Dispersed among them were lesser demons, but not many. The demons burst into a sudden noise of conversation. Two male demons sitting in Vorkol’s balcony were arguing vehemently.
My eyes scanned over the crowd of demons for Faris, but I didn’t find him.
My chest tightened, and I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“You look awful, little bird,” said Vorkol, and my gaze flicked back to her. “I can keep doing this, day after day, night after night,” she purred. “But soon your bodies will diminish. Soon, you’ll be nothing more than ash.”