by Jenny McKane
She didn't answer, and when she felt two pairs of rough hands grab her arms and shove her forward, she knew she was about to be a part of the spectacle. She was about to take center stage in the Azrael Show.
She quickly looked at Vitaly's face as she was forced closer, and she saw from where she stood that he knew exactly what was going on. He hadn't been surprised in the least, and Sunny wondered how long he knew she was a human wearing a glamour.
She was shoved to her knees on the ground in front of Azrael, and a guard grabbed a handful of hair on the back of her head and pushed her head down to the floor as well. She was now prostrate in front of Azrael and his sons. Gideon, too, if she counted him. But he was mute and not really paying attention, as far as she could tell, as she was being led to the front. Selah was unconscious in a pool of blood, and likely bleeding out. She wasn't certain how fast a demon like her would die with that sort of trauma, but it couldn't have been a good outlook for her.
And to think Sunny had assumed that the situation was as bad as it could get just moments ago. To think that Sunny had thought losing Gideon was the worst thing that could happen to her today.
Maybe it was delirium, maybe it was an overabundance of nerves, but Sunny snorted a laugh. Oh, how short sighted she had been. If only she had counted on total ruin, and not just emotional ruin, she might have seen this coming.
It’d been too easy, she realized. No suspicious questioning of the new demon with the shady, sob story for a background. No quarantining of the returning heir after spending such a long time with the humans. Nothing. They’d foolishly marched straight into enemy hands thinking they were the smartest creatures in the kingdom.
Wrong. How very wrong they’d been, Sunny thought sadly.
“My father asked you a question,” Vitaly said as he knelt beside Sunny and ripped her head up facing him. He had a handful of her hair in a painful grip, forcing her thoughts back to present.
Still, Sunny said nothing. She knew better than to say anything. It was part of their game and they’d use her words as some sort of incitement in the war between angels and humans that Azrael was building.
“Should we kill her, Father?” This came from Victor.
He had moved closer to her and was now showing in interest in Sunny--the first time in three weeks. He almost looked jealous of his brother for being able to hold Sunny in such a vulnerable and shameful position. Vitaly was enjoying this immensely, which was clear from the thin grin on his face each time he looked down at her and tightened the pull on her hair.
Azrael studied her with those deep black eyes, shrewdly assessing the situation. Most other demons would likely have killed her in a fit of rage, but Azrael wasn't like most demons. In fact, he technically wasn't demon born at all. He was an angel that had been cast from Heaven. He had somehow morphed his very DNA to become a demon, but he still had started as an angel. And as such, he was not susceptible to emotional overloads like demons were. No, looking at Azrael now, Sunny saw the calculating former archangel in him very clearly.
“Killing her too quickly would deprive us of not only valuable information, but also of a bit of sport,” Azrael said slowly.
His eyes held Sunny's captive. She wanted nothing more than to look away and not stare at the monster who was likely going to kill her very soon, but she was unable.
“I'll give you another chance,” Azrael said, a false kindness creeping into his voice. “Who sent you? And how did you come into contact with my daughter? You have sullied a royal family member and will pay for that. But there is a chance to make your death painless if you confess who you are and who you work with.”
The hell with that, Sunny thought. There was no way she was opening her mouth now, knowing that she was dead either way.
“Remove her glamour,” Azrael ordered his son.
Vitaly roughly checked Sunny and examined her hands and her neck and even her stomach, narrowly missing the tightly-wound sheath that held her obsidian blade against her ribcage. She nearly lost it when she thought Vitaly had found her dagger. But he was searching for some token, some charm that held her glamour. Little did he know the charm was charmed itself, Sunny laughed at herself. Oh, the irony.
“Show yourself, human,” Vitaly roared at her face.
Sunny calmly looked him in the eyes and said nothing. In a rage, he reared back and struck her. Her head lolled to the side as the room spun around her, and she struggled not to black out. Vitaly’s fist felt like a brick had hit her upside the head. She was certain she was going to have a lump on her temple for as long as she was still breathing.
He dragged her to her feet and brought her closer to Azrael. The Archduke of Hell calmly looked her over, as if he, too, were searching for some sort of trinket that held her glamour.
“Stupid girl,” he said, muttering to himself before looking at Sunny again. “I knew the moment you entered my keep that you were human. Your stupid glamour did not fool me, though I cannot see past it. I was an archangel, and demon magic still has a hard time deceiving me. I know it is here somewhere, and it will save you fingers, toes and other joints from being demolished if you simply show yourself now.”
Azrael was a real lyrical gangster when it came to threats of bodily harm and Sunny smiled herself.
“You find this funny, human?” Vitaly whispered low in her ear, the grip on her hair tightening painfully as he squeezed Sunny’s head back. “You won't be laughing when I torture you later.”
She had a feeling she really wasn't going to be laughing when she was left alone with Vitaly later. Not only did he promise a slow, painful death, but she was certain his earlier threats of breaking her spirit with his own body would prove true, too. That managed to make her feel sick to her stomach. Her breathing became very shallow and short.
Death by torture was one thing, but Sunny would be damned if she would allow herself to be taken away and raped by a son of a bitch like Vitaly. She'd rather throw herself down the staircase and break her own neck then let it come to that.
The first time since all hell had broken loose, Sunny became aware that there was indeed, a large audience behind her. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. It was as though the demons gathered were waiting for Azrael's next move, most likely hoping that the violence that was sure to follow did not spill into the crowd.
Motion behind her caught Sunday's attention. It was a guard struggling to move forward.
“My Lord,” the guard yelled from about 20 feet behind Sunny. “We have trapped the dream demon.”
Sunny panicked at the mention of Plaxo. And when she heard his voice struggling against the guards who held him, despite not being able to turn around fully to see him, she lost her mind. In her rage she shoved sideways against one of the guards holding her, surprising the demon, and she was able to break her right arm free, which she promptly threw square at Vitaly. Landing the sharpest part of her elbow directly into his nose, he let out a roar of pain and fell backwards onto his ass.
She had exactly a half a second to be smug about sending the asshole sprawling again, before Sunny realized her time was nearly over. She pushed with all her might against the other guard holding her left hand, and miracle of miracles, the guard lost his balance and let go.
Now, there was nothing between herself and Azrael.
Knowing that her life was forfeit at this point anyway, Sunny decided to make use of her sacrifice. Without over-thinking what she was about to do next, she launched herself at Azrael, intent on knocking him over as she had just done to her guards and his very own son, and to pull her dagger free from its hiding spot. The chances of her being able to embed it squarely in his chest were likely slim, but she was going to take them. It was either that or be led downstairs to the slaughter.
With a huge burst of adrenaline, she launched herself as hard as she could at the grand duke of hell. Just as she felt that she would reach him with no trouble, she saw Gideon move swiftly from beside him and catch her mid air with a hand around her thr
oat.
She felt the blow to her temple, swift and violent, and Sunny was unconscious before she hit the ground. The last thing she heard was Azrael's smug laughter.
Chapter Thirty
Bad medicine and bad magic.
Sunny smelled both before she even opened her eyes. For a glorious fraction of a moment, she forgot what had happened before everything went dark. For the briefest span of time, Sunny drifted awake thinking that it was just another day in the demon realm. Without opening her eyes, she momentarily thought she was back in the bedroom on the second floor. The one with the dome ceiling, and the unnecessary gold and red highlights throughout.
But before she got too far ahead of herself, reality crashed down around her. The smells were what brought her back to reality. Bad medicine. Bad magic.
There had only been one place in the entire keep that Sunny had smelled both of those things at the same time, and as her eyes flickered open as she was thrust towards consciousness, panic set into her chest.
She was in the dungeon.
Sure enough, as her eyes adjusted to the limey light around her, she saw the roof of her cage overhead. It was rusted and dingy, and surrounding her were thick metal bars. She was in a cage. She was in a cage that just four days ago, she had observed unnoticed from the other side of the room. Sunny didn't need to be told where she was, she recognized this cage. It was the largest in the room and had once held the damaged Seeker demon.
In an instant, Sunny was awake and glancing around her quickly making sure that the secret demon was not still occupying the cage alongside her.
No, other than the dried blood on the floor beside her, there was no other sign of the hybrid Seeker. Sunny was alone.
Pushing herself all the way up to her bottom, Sunny blinked a few times to clear her head. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, hoping her heart slowed enough for her to draw a complete breath. She was close to panic, even still, and she knew she needed to be clear and have her wits about her for whatever happened next.
She knew it was fatalistic, but part of Sunny had hoped that Azrael would have just ended her after Gideon had knocked her unconscious. She sucked in a breath at that memory.
She had been inches from making contact with Azrael, seconds from freeing her blade from its holster and ending Azrael with obsidian. And Gideon had stopped her.
Her mind replayed the moment when she recognized the fact that Gideon was moving like a blur towards her, snatching her out of the air, and pulling her temple with one simple strike that rendered her unconscious.
The truth sunk in like barbs around her heart.
Gideon had stopped her, and Gideon had knocked her unconscious.
She ran her hand down the front of her face and when she pulled it away, she saw there was a slight smear of blood. It was likely from the blow that Vitaly had given her in his rage. She smirked to herself, when the memory of her elbowing Vitaly in the face resurfaced. It had been well worth whatever happened next, she reassured herself.
Somewhere in the room, she heard shuffling. Sunny wasn't certain whether or not it came from inside or outside of a cage, so she froze. She shouldn't have sat up so quickly, giving away the fact that she was awake. What if Alder was waiting for her? What if all he had wanted was for her to wake up so that he could begin whatever sick experiment on her he had planned?
Sunny's stayed motionless and listened.
The next sound was a low, painful moan. Likely one of Alder’s experiments. She glanced around, and took in the fact that now every cage, all nine of them, were full. Occupied.
Her eyes took in each of the cages and the occupants and stopped when she reached a cage that held the unmoving form of Selah. Directly across the room from Sunny her unmoving form lay on her stomach with her face pressed against the bars closest to Sunny.
Was she dead? Her coloring was ash and gray and her hair had been shorn completely off her head. Instinctively, Sunny reached up and felt her own hair still there. Knowing it was vanity and completely useless, she let herself be grateful for the fact that the mad butcher Alder hadn’t given her a haircut yet.
Sunny focused on Selah again.
Her stomach recoiled and threatened to empty when Sunny took in the jagged, bloody mess that her shoulder was now. The bone of her arm had been sliced clean through with Azrael’s blade when he took his daughter’s arm off. Sunny reasoned that Selah wouldn’t be in the cage if she were dead--she wouldn’t be in the dungeon at all if that were the case. Selah was alive--for now.
Her eyes moved around the cages, not recognizing the angels or demons in them until she came to the cage that was two away from hers. Inside it, a small gray figure lay on its back with its small, reed-like arms splayed out to the side.
It was Plaxo, she realized with a start, and the tears that fell from her eyes were instant and stinging. How had they managed to catch him? How did Azrael’s guards know how to find him in the ballroom when he’d been invisible?
Sunny felt the sudden onslaught of nausea as her memory replayed everything that had happened after the moment that Selah had smugly walked past her in her wedding gown.
They’d been exposed. Selah had been immediately punished, and Plaxo and Sunny had been tossed into the dungeons. From the muffled sound of music overhead, Sunny guessed the wedding reception had turned into a “we just caught a human and a dream demon” party for the guests.
She hadn’t figured she could feel much more miserable than she had just a few hours earlier, but that had just been defeat she had been feeling earlier. This? This was terror.
Defeat would have just meant returning home in heartbreak at losing Gideon. But this new reality that she found herself in meant never returning home at all, and likely watching her friend get destroyed by the reptilian demon that doubled as butler and mad scientist.
For the first time in a few days, Sunny felt anger bubbling in her chest. White, hot rage. It was there, and that was good. Sunny wasn’t dead yet and she promised herself that she’d not waste any opportunity to cause as much havoc and damage as she could before her life was snuffed out permanently in this shithole.
Sunny looked back at Plaxo, her eyes burning again. She had wondered why he didn’t just disappear and do the portal jumping thing that dream demons were so good at, but she noticed a thin, metallic collar around his neck that wasn’t there before. It had to be some sort of demon magic damper put there by Alder or one of his cronies.
“Plaxo,” Sunny tried to whisper shout, her voice raw and painful. Plaxo didn’t move so she tried again. “Plaxo. Please wake up.”
Nothing.
“Nothing you could say or do could compel the dream demon to waken,” a hissing voice behind her said and Sunny jumped with a start. Alder was right next to her cage. “That collar keeps him completely unconscious until such a time as I remove it.”
This version of Alder lacked the fake humility the other Alder had shown around Azrael and Vitaly. This version of Alder, what Sunny imagined was the real demon, was condescending with a fake air of academia or intellectualism. All the bastard was lacking was a bow tie and a cup of tea in one hand to complete the look.
His words registered and Sunny let out a breath, sinking against the floor in an undignified heap.
“I should actually thank you, human,” Alder continued despite Sunny’s very clear hint that she wanted nothing to do with him. “You delivered to me the one thing that my lord and his sons were unable to bring me the past three years.”
His slick gray hand motioned toward Plaxo.
“One of the most magically adaptive, powerful species in the demon realm has been at the top of my study list for hundreds of years, despite never being able to catch one,” Alder said, mostly to himself. “And here comes a waste of a human girl, practically dropping one right in my laboratory.”
She cringed at the word laboratory.
“Weapons for the war?” Sunny asked, suddenly not giving a crap what he was talking about. She just
wanted confirmation for some reason.
“Of course,” he replied, stopping his own monologue. “The very best combination of both gene pool’s talents and powers all rolled into one commendable, obedient package. Brilliant, isn’t it?”
Sunny blew out a frustrated breath, sick of listening to Alder’s self-congratulatory tone already.
“Obviously beta tests,” Sunny said testily. “The craftsmanship in the stitching and the assembling is deplorable. They wouldn’t last two minutes in battle in the human realm.”
She mostly believed her words, too, as the demon/angel monsters looked like grotesque patchwork creatures and not elite fighting forces.
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, human,” Alder said, cutting her off. “The first generation is already battle tested and victorious. Where do you think the creature that inhabited your cage prior to your arrival disappeared to?”
She’d assumed his wing transplant had failed, given the terrible hack job she had seen four days ago.
“That one in particular was our most successful test run,” Alder said, practically giddy. “I’ve had word that he took down an archangel.”
Her blood was instantly cold and Sunny didn’t draw in a breath for a long moment.
An archangel? Shit. And to make it all worse, it was like Alder was trying to brag to Sunny--to impress her.
“Liar,” Sunny muttered, all bluster and no substance. The truth was that she actually believed Alder and his morbid brag. He was too intellectually proud to brag about a lie or a rumor. He believed his Seeker had killed an archangel and part of Sunny did, too.
But who?
Across the room, Selah moaned low in her throat and Sunny was up on her knees, hands clinging to the bars as she watched the princess struggle to raise her face from the bars.
“And so the sleeping princess wakes,” Alder said quietly, a feral gleam in his eyes.
This couldn’t be good, Sunny thought.
“What are you going to do with her?” Sunny yelled, unable to stop herself.
