by Rhyll Biest
His brows lowered. ‘Remotely?’
‘Yeah.’
‘How fucking remote is it? The next city, the next realm, the next dimension?’
‘I don’t know.’
He stared at her. ‘How the fuck can you not know?’
Okay, he was really angry. But that was his problem for caring, not hers. ‘Because I’m not sure where it is.’
‘Hairy horse nobs, what else are you missing? Do you have a kidney in another realm, or a large intestine in outer space, perhaps?’
She grimaced. ‘Could we save this drama until after you staunch the bleeding?’
He slapped a hand over her shoulder and she jerked in pain, but she let out a sigh as his addictive brand of healing slid over her skin, weaving muscle and bone in its wake, healing and soothing, stitching back together what had been broken.
The whole time his angry mouth kept running. ‘Lilith, didn’t your mother teach you to keep better control over your internal organs? And what’s this about your mother not having a heart?’
She licked the coppery-tasting blood drying on her lips. ‘Huh, I thought all nine realms of Hell knew that story.’
‘Nope. Lay it on me.’
‘The story goes, my mother was born without a heart, a living anatomical anomaly kept alive purely by her excessive amount of demon power and all the maleficence pumping through her veins.’
‘How excessive?’ Still charged, his gaze darted around the clearing searching for more enemies.
‘Cut her and she bled fire. She was born an archdemon.’
‘And then?’
‘Someone got the idea that if they killed her they could drain her power, take it for themself.’
His eyes met hers. ‘And who was it that had this marvellous idea?’
‘My brother.’ She pressed a hand against her temple to keep the pain from spilling out and leaking from her ears. Along with her brains.
‘What happened?’
‘He brought in others on the ambush but they failed and she killed most of them. She disowned my brother. But she was so badly hurt only my father was able to save her. He’s got mad, crazy healing powers, my dad. That’s where Semya gets hers from. And my father gave her half of his heart to keep her alive.’ The most romantic gesture ever made in Hell, one probably lost on her mother.
Adriel traced her collarbone with a finger, his touch reclaiming her attention. ‘So what happened to your heart?’
After several seconds of uneasy silence, she met his eyes. ‘I traded it.’
He blinked before shaking his head. ‘Say again.’
‘I said, I traded it.’
He looked at her. ‘For what?’ He stepped closer, his grip tightening around her upper arm. ‘What, in Lilith’s name, would you trade your heart for?’
***
Adriel studied her. She was always this pale, so it was hard to tell if she was in shock or not. Her eyes had a glassy quality but her face, habitually schooled into inscrutability, revealed nothing. Even the surrounding rock revealed more. On it he smelled vestiges of heat and male pheromones. Two different sets. Someone needed to tell his nose that wasn’t normal. Almost as not normal as trading your heart for something.
‘What did you trade it for?’ he asked again.
She looked away.
‘What? Tell me.’
She stared at him and her eyes, wide yet masked, gave nothing away. He swiped a forearm over his face, mopping up the rivulets of sweat burning his eyes. ‘I don’t understand this; I need you to explain it to me.’ How could she not have a heart? And did that mean she couldn’t feel anything? Not love, not joy, not pleasure? No wonder he was fighting an uphill battle to connect with her.
She studied him silently, searching his face as intently as he’d searched hers. He tried to guess what she was searching for but failed. Without a heart, the mechanics of her mind were as alien to him as those of an archdemon.
‘Tell me why you would trade your heart for something.’
A bleakness settled over her features. ‘I told you about the gift.’
‘The thing that makes your eyes bleed? You gave your heart away for that?’ How could she? It nearly killed him that she would make such a trade.
Her posture stiffened. ‘Don’t you judge me. If I hadn’t been wearing this damn collar,’ she wrapped both hands around it, ‘then I could have captured an enemy general a second ago. Abigorn.’
‘Captured him? Or been killed by him?’ Adriel’s stomach roiled at how close the enemy had come to killing her.
‘I would have frozen his blood with ease if not for this collar,’ she hissed.
He picked up a dagger lying on the ground and studied it. ‘Probably. Who was the second demon?’
She frowned and he explained. ‘I can smell two.’
Understanding and just a hint of fear bloomed in her eyes. ‘The second was Paimon.’
Two skilled fighters, Abigorn and her brother, and yet she’d survived them. How? For a sweat-drenched second he questioned whether her every word and action was a lie. Perhaps she supported her brother and was spying for him. The idea slid deep, a needle through his heart.
She blinked, swallowed. ‘I have to kill him.’
Her words reassured him but could he trust her? ‘Take a ticket and get in line, sweetheart.’
She frowned. ‘How did you know where to find me this time?’
He hesitated. It was difficult to explain when he didn’t fully understand himself what had happened. ‘Moloss barked.’
That was true, but he’d been far away on the battlefield when all the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end and he’d known. Like a hellhound sometimes knew when its master died, even if that master was in another dimension. And he’d been able to find her immediately by seeing her through Moloss’s eyes and working out where Moloss was by scent trails.
Just what exactly was happening to him? He no longer understood himself, a dangerous condition for a demon at war.
He lifted his hand from her wound and more navy blood welled up. ‘I need to further heal this, so if you have anything else to tell me, tell me now before you pass out.’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve told you everything.’
Another beautiful lie from her beautiful lips. Deep within he felt the tremor of the beast rousing, the curl of its lip, and swallowed. Lust, never far from the surface when she was around, crept up his spine like a hot vine, surged over his nerves and grew wild with excitement as he applied his power more deeply to her wound.
She gasped, the sound sexual to his ears, and he tried to imagine what it was like for her when his hot energy spilled into her. Her back arched as his energy surged wild and happy along her nerves—and slammed into something hard.
The wall. Lore’s wall.
Cold and impenetrable. Cold as a princess without a heart.
And yet … fractured. Cracked.
Her body slumped as she lost consciousness and he pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, his throat tightening at her vulnerability.
Forgive me. He extended a tiny tendril of energy and, like a weed, slipped through a crack in the wall.
He slipped into a poisonous womb. He coughed and tried to retreat but felt something tug at him, eager to keep him from escaping. Drowning in its grip, his head spun as he absorbed a slice of memory. Pain, pain so cold and cutting it sliced right through him. Then a suffocating, choking sensation, something thick and gristly between his teeth, something awful.
The taste of raw meat.
He yanked himself free, sweat chilling his nape, dread furring his tongue.
It made him want to hold her, protect her.
But he couldn’t.
He ran a finger over the cold iron encircling her throat. If he removed it would she flee? Sometimes she looked at ease, almost comfortable in his presence, but other times she looked ready to run the first chance she got. And he couldn’t allow that.
What he had
to do, what he had been tasked with by his king, was to keep her prisoner and ask her questions that made her eyes bleed.
And serving his king came before saving her.
Chapter 10
When she woke, Valeda ran a hand over her chest, recalling the horrible pain of the spear carving her flesh. She unbuttoned her tunic to look underneath it. Adriel’s healing was so thorough that only a thin red line running down her sternum remained to mark the event. Along with her unhappy muscles. She frowned. The captain’s response to her admission that she’d traded her heart for something also remained with her. He’d been horrified, had looked at her as if she were a monster.
Though why did she care?
I don’t.
She buttoned her tunic. She wasn’t ready to face Adriel again just yet. He’d sacrificed a good deal of his power to heal her—and she couldn’t help but wonder what he’d seen when he’d done so. It left her feeling weird and vulnerable.
Like he’d stolen something from her.
The thought sent fingers of unease plucking at her scalp.
As she set foot outside the tent, Moloss bounded up and danced around her. The spring remained in his step as he followed her to the derby track.
She gave him a sour look. ‘At least one of us is in a good mood.’
He wagged his tail.
Where to go? She wasn’t taking any solitary walks again, that was for sure. The derby track was safest.
There she found Fira lacing up her skates while Arvalis supervised the team’s practice of whips, blocks and walling. Lining the practice track was a group of males rehearsing catcalls and acrobatics. In between choreographed mimes, they shook their white fluffy pompoms with vigour.
She whispered in Fira’s ear. ‘Who are they?’
‘Our fearleaders.’
‘You mean cheerleaders?’
Fira blinked at her. ‘What’s a cheerleader?’
‘Never mind.’ Yet another conversational wipe-out.
‘You’ve come to learn to skate?’
She nodded.
Fira grinned and handed her a thick bundle of objects. ‘Keep the hellhound out of the way and put these on.’
‘These’ were hot pink knee pads with little lips stenciled on them. But why were the lips vertical instead of horizontal? Valeda inspected them more closely. Oh, those kinds of lips. Well, that made sense then.
Along with the thick knee pads, Fira also handed her an ancient pair of pink, chunky roller skates, elbow pads and wrist guards.
She raised her brows. ‘Am I going to need all this? As a knowledge demon I have superior learning skills, you know.’
‘Oh, baby, you are so going to need all of this. At least until you learn how to fall.’
Fall? Why would she fall? She rested her butt against a boulder and wrestled on each unfamiliar object. ‘Stay,’ she told Moloss, and was pleased when his butt hit the ground.
Once she’d tightened the laces of her skates, it was time to stand.
But she no longer knew how. As soon as she put any weight on her feet the wheels of death started rolling.
Clutching at a boulder for support, she looked to Fira. ‘How do I stand up without moving at the same time?’
Fira raised a leg to show the underside of her own skates. ‘See that thing in front of the wheels? That’s your toe stop. Just stand on that and balance on it, on your toes.’
Valeda stood on tippy-toe. Now she was too afraid to get off the stable part of her skate. Feeling dim, she stared at Fira and awaited further instructions.
‘Down, girl, down.’ Fira grinned at her.
No way. ‘Give me your arm.’
Fira rolled her eyes but held out her arm and Valeda gripped it as she lowered her weight onto the eight wheels determined to kill her.
She didn’t dare breathe.
‘Are you going to let go before I lose all circulation in my arm?’
‘Sorry.’ She wasn’t sorry, actually. Right then she hated Fira more than anyone else in Hell for wanting her arm back. She let go and inched her hands away, arms stuck out in front of her like a zombie taking its first step.
Both feet shot out from under her and she waved her arms madly to regain her balance. But that only caused her to land on her upper back rather than her butt when she fell, every last bit of breath in her lungs driven out by the impact. Wheezing for breath, she stared at the starless sky. She counted to ten before a face loomed over her. Fira leered at her. ‘You get a skate up your clacker?’
Somehow the question didn’t bother her half as much as it once would have. ‘Nope.’
The she-demon looked disappointed. ‘Well, I guess your skating cherry is still intact then.’ She extended a hand to Valeda.
She stood in increments, gripping Fira’s arm like the lifeline to balance it was. ‘What do I need to learn first?’
‘How to fall.’
She grimaced. ‘I plan to spend as little time falling as possible.’
‘Yeah, well, the best-laid plans of derby players are often crushed under the buttocks of a large opponent. Expect to fall down. A lot.’
‘Super.’ Maybe it was time to rethink her ambition to learn to skate and play derby.
‘And you can’t flail your arms like you just did when you fall. If you do, you’ll take out every other skater close by. Plus, if you land with outstretched arms a bunch of mad demon bitches will roll right over them. Keep everything tucked in. Fall small.’
Valeda gave her a cool glare. ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’
‘Okay, now skate to the middle and join the other beginners.’ Fira pointed to where two she-demons stood looking lost.
Valeda looked at where they were, several miles away, and then back at Fira. ‘Are you crazy? I can barely stand, so how am I going to skate all the way over there?’
Fira snorted and emitted piggy, gleeful laughter. ‘It’s only a hundred metres away.’ She grinned at Valeda’s death stare. ‘Scared? Don’t worry, that’s just your brain telling you not to be a dick by standing upright on eight wheels that could shoot out from under your feet at any time. Everyone starts out the same.’
Valeda eyed her suspiciously. ‘Shouldn’t there be a rail or something to hang onto?’
A voice from behind startled her. ‘I’ll be your rail. You can hold onto me.’
Adriel extended his hand. Drops of water glistened on his skin and a dark crescent ringed the neckline of his grey tunic. He looked hard and clean with his dark hair slicked back, and with envy she tried to imagine where he’d ported to find clean bathing water. What she wouldn’t give for more than a hasty sponge bath inside the tent.
As she breathed in his clean smell, her feet began to slide without her permission. She flung out an arm and gripped his brawny forearm. He didn’t so much as blink, let alone stagger, and it was reassuring, like having a tree trunk to hold onto. And it was much, much better to think of him as a tree rather than a large well-built demon whose granite muscles under her hand lit a renegade desire in her to further explore his arm.
She refused to look up at him. This close, with her hanging off him like a handbag, he might be able to read the panic in her face, and that wouldn’t do at all.
‘Captain.’ Fira nodded to him.
Valeda felt the weight of his gaze shift from her.
‘Fira.’ He nodded to the soldier before glancing at Valeda’s feet. ‘Princess, I think Fira forgot to tell you to keep your feet parallel and shoulder-width apart.’
Valeda narrowed her eyes at Fira, who simply gave her a cheeky grin before skating away. Over her shoulder she called out, ‘Enjoy yourself, fresh meat.’
‘I’m going to kill her,’ Valeda whispered.
He winked at her. ‘You’re hot when you’re homicidal.’
She let the gibe slide since at that moment her very life depended on his arm.
‘Bend your knees,’ he told her. ‘The more you bend your knees, the more stable you are. If you stand up straight
with locked knees, then you’re gonna fall over.’
She tried it and immediately felt how much more stable the position was. Plus, it felt like there was less distance to fall. ‘Thanks.’
He smiled. ‘Okay, now slow steps with me. Use your toe stops if you need to.’
But walking all the way over on her toe stops seemed wussy, not befitting a princess of Hell. Instead she kept her knees bent and took tiny steps. One, two, three. She was getting it, she wasn’t falling. She smiled, took another step and her skate went shooting out in front of her. Flailing, about to go over backwards, she grabbed wildly at Adriel with her free hand and found purchase on his heavy sword-belt. Her death grip stopped her fall and she hung off his arm and belt, tenaciously refusing to drop any further. The ground was her enemy and she would not let it feel her backside again so soon.
Adriel looked down at her, silver eyes compassionate. ‘You okay down there?’
‘Yes, fine thanks.’
‘Need a hand up?’ He held out a hand to her.
She stared at it. Rough and calloused and as oversized as the rest of him, it would swallow her own hand. ‘Maybe I’ll just stay here for a while.’
‘Take your time.’ His lean face was patient.
She waited for a sneer or a gibe but it didn’t come. After a minute or so, she contorted until she could stand upright on her toe stops by using him for balance.
He met her eyes. ‘Hello there, nice to see you again. I have a suggestion if you’re interested.’
Wishing her muscles would stop shaking, she raised one cool brow. ‘Yes?’
‘Wrap your arm around my waist and I’ll pull you along like a train.’
She glanced at his lean waist above his belt. Ride the Adriel Express? Why not? She edged closer and wrapped her arm around him. He in turn wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The slab of muscle covering his rib cage warmed her face, and broad shoulders sheltered her from the glare of the moons.
Before she knew it they were halfway across the track.
Arvalis looked at her. ‘About time.’
A long strip of hide lay rolled open like a red carpet. Valeda eyed it. ‘What’s that for?’