Duty Bound

by Christina Bauer

The handler translates the response. The Scala nods feebly, raising his hand. Small bolts of lightning dance about his three-knuckled fingers.

  “Parare ad ad infernum,” whispers the Scala.

  “Prepare for Hell,” comes the translation.

  Dozens of tiny lightning bolts whirl about the Scala’s withered hand. Igni. Miniscule elements of power that only he can summon.

  So. Badass.

  I lean against the stonewall and hug my elbows. “I love this bit.”

  A smile sounds in Walker’s voice. “Me too.”

  More igni appear, whirling about into a shaft of light about two feet high. A soul column. The pillar of brightness slides off the Scala’s stretcher, growing wider as it spins across the Arena floor.

  The soul column surrounds the Choker’s ghostly legs. The spirit stands stunned as igni slowly climb up his body, each tiny lightning bolt swirling and diving around its neighbors like so many silver fish. For a moment the igni flare bright about the Choker’s body, then they all disappear. The damned soul vanishes to Hell.

  I brush-slap my hands together in a gesture that says ‘my work here is done.’

  Walker taps my shoulder. I turn my attention away from the Arena floor.

  “Time to get you home, Myla.”

  “Not so fast, mister.”

  Walker grins. “Is this the part where you won’t leave until I agree to sneak you in to see some matches?”

  He’s got me there. “Why, yes it is.” I purse my lips. My encyclopedic knowledge of demons and the Arena comes in super-handy during conversations like this one. “Some Cellula demons are being brought to the Arena next week. Suuuuuper-rare. They’re supposed to be semi-transparent and lit from within.” I twiddle my fingers on my belly as a visual aid. Walker’s a really good artist. Sometimes, he lets me keep his demon sketches too.

  “Cellula, you say?”

  Pay dirt. He must never have drawn these before. “Yup.”

  “Deal.” He offers me his hand. “Now, I should get you to school.”

  “I need to go home, actually. I still have to change and grab my stuff.” Which means I have more time-suck to enjoy before I actually have to get to class. Nice.

  Walker lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll get an earful about you and the Tardy List.”

  “You and me both.” I take his hand. “Let’s hit it.”

  Walker bows his head, creating a portal nearby. My stomach turns queasy just looking at it. Together, we leave the Arena’s dirt floor, tumble through the portal’s darkness and then land on the ratty carpet in my living room. I stifle my puke reflex. Stupid portals.

  Walker leans over, examining my face. “Are you alright, Myla?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I take a few deep breaths and clear my head. “Thanks.”

  “Until next time.” He turns toward the open portal; I grab his sleeve.

  “What?” My mouth winds with a crafty smile. “You won’t hang out with me and Mom while we discuss my awesome morning in the Arena?”

  He shoots me a level stare. “Ah, no.”

  “Chicken.”

  “And proud.” He steps back through the opened portal and disappears.

  I wish I could escape so easily. Straightening my shoulders, I prepare myself for the maternal inquisition, part deux. Usually, this flavor of interrogation starts with rapid-fire questions followed by slow hugs, sloppy tears, and loud exclamations of ‘I almost lost you, baby.’ If I’m lucky, I get homemade brownies out of it, too.

  I grin. I’m feeling lucky.

  End of Sample

  Order ANGELBOUND now

  Acknowledgements

  I have a shit-ton of people to thank for helping me on the adventure of writing this book. First, there is the amazing team at Inscribe Digital. Thank you, Kelly Peterson, Katy Beehler, Ana Szaky, Larry Norton, Kimberly Lane, and Allison Davis. You are nothing less than stellar.

  Next, there’s the wonderful team at Monster House Books. Arely Zimmermann, where would I be without you? It makes me nauseous to even think about it. And GIE, thank you so much for your insight, gentle prodding, and teamwork. I’m thrilled that you’re now Editor In Chief at MHB.

  And I can never forget my readers and bloggers. You guys are the best, end of story. Thank you for every high five, sweet idea, and suggested change. I value each and every one!

  Most importantly, heartfelt thanks to my husband and son. Your patience and support mean everything. I love you both with all my heart and soul.

  A Letter from the Author

  Dear Readers,

  There’s a new ANGELBOUND OFFSPRING release coming! I am so freaking excited about this one, I can’t even TELL YOU! For those of you who have been following the series, this book tells the story of Portia and Tempest’s kids and YEAH YEAH YEAH! Check out the description below...

  ZINNIA (Angelbound Offspring #3)

  As the last dragon shifter, I live alone, hiding in one of Earth’s sacred deserts. My human handlers tell me that I have no parents, no name, and no purpose other than to train for battle and one day become a vessel for the reincarnation of Chimera, the greatest dragon shifter of all. Sadly, Chimera’s rebirth will mean my own death. But my handlers say this sacrifice is a noble fate that will rebuild the dragon shifter world.

  I shall die on my seventeenth birthday. That’s five days from now.

  Then I hear music thumping across the desert. I take my mortal form, follow the sound, and find humans dancing in what they call a rave. There is a stage and a rock band. One thing quickly becomes clear: Unlike the audience, the musicians are dragon shifters, just like me. And one of them, the guitar player Rhodes, makes my knees turn watery. The lead singer, Kaps, has something strangely familiar about her.

  It all adds up to one conclusion: My handlers lied to me. I’m not the last of my kind. Memories reappear. I had parents once. Portia and Tempest. I even had a name. Zinnia. Perhaps I have a reason to live as well. I step past the dancing humans to confront the players.

  I will find out the full truth, no matter what.

  Order your copy of Zinnia today

  Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too. Christina lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

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