Then she would never have met Balin, this man she didn’t know but wanted to know more.
It was all too much. Too much emotion, too many decisions made for her…just too much.
“Jamie? What’s going on in that head of yours?” Ambrose asked as he ran a hand down her back.
What was this? He’d never really touched her before, but now he couldn’t seem to stop it. God, why had he had to wait?
“I’m just thinking about choices,” she said honestly.
Something flashed in Ambrose’s eyes, and he nodded. “And you feel like you don’t have any.”
Jamie licked her lips and watched both men’s eyes darken. Well then…that was something to think about later.
“I do feel like everything’s out of my hands, and I don’t know exactly how I feel about that. What I do know is that we don’t have time for me to wallow in it. We need to get out of here.”
Balin smiled, and Jamie wanted to sit back and just watch him do it. With his dark horns blending with his even darker hair, he didn’t look like the demons from her nightmares. No, he looked like some sexy, leather-clad warrior who could swagger with the best of them. Jamie wasn’t too sure she was that far off on her estimation of who he truly was.
“That sounds like a good idea to me.” Balin moved away from her, and she immediately felt the loss. Odd, since she’d just met the man. Maybe all true halves—or triads in their case—were like this. She’d have to ask Lily when she got back.
If she got back.
No, when. Not if. She’d make it. She had to. Jamie didn’t want to die in hell or, frankly, anywhere or any time soon.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked, ready to get on with it. Once they got out of the cell area, she could think about the next step. Thinking about it all at once made her want to hide in a corner with her arms around herself. She’d be dammed if she became that type of woman. She was already one of the quieter ones of her group of friends; she didn’t want to be the weak one as well.
Ambrose ran a hand along his chin, his long white-blond hair falling out of its band to frame his face. She always wondered if it was as soft as it looked…
No, not the time to think about that.
Though, if they did what Balin had suggested, the time might be closer than she thought.
“What is making you blush like that?” Balin asked, a teasing smile on his face.
She blinked and blushed even harder. “I’m not blushing. I’m just hot. It is hell after all.”
Balin gave her a long look, and she knew he didn’t believe her. Whatever. They had to get out of the cell first, and then she could think of a more appropriate comeback.
Ambrose cleared his throat then moved back to pace the small cell. Each step seemed to annoy Hunter if judged by the tension in his shoulders, but Ambrose didn’t seem to care.
“We can get out of the cell if we move fast and get through the sewer grate,” he whispered.
Sewer? Oh, that didn’t sound appealing. Really, it sounded better than what she could face in the morning. Yes, much better.
“And you can just get us out? Just like that?” Hunter questioned, pure disbelief on his face.
“That’s what Fawkes explained,” Ambrose said, holding his hand when Hunter opened his mouth. “And from what I’ve seen, it looks to be the best bet. We can’t go through any other door due to the guards. Balin and I can get through the wards because he is a demon and I’m wearing a medallion to shield my angelic nature. If we move fast, we should be able to bring you and Jamie through it.”
“Should?” she asked, fear snaking through her.
Ambrose traced her jaw, sending shivers down her back. Damn angel. “Yes, should. I don’t have another alternative, Jamie. Nothing is easy, but I vow I won’t let them have you while I’m still breathing.”
“I don’t want you to die because of me.” That fear hit her harder, almost sending her to her knees. She didn’t want anyone to die for her—especially not Ambrose…and now Balin.
God, it was all too much.
Ambrose framed her face, his intensity rolling off him in waves. “I will not let you die. Do you understand me? You’re more important than anyone in this room. You’re everything. I won’t lose you.”
She couldn’t doubt he meant what he said. Had he been hiding his true feelings from her all this time?
Then it hit her.
He’d lost his wife and children. Lily had told her the heart-wrenching story, and she’d broken for his loss. Now he was afraid he’d lose his chance again…and maybe that’s why he’d stayed back before.
That was something to think about later, but for now, she’d stand by his side and get the hell out of…well, hell.
She’d have to think of another curse at some point.
“Then let’s do it,” she said, her voice only quavering a little. “Let’s get out of here. I want to go home.”
Ambrose nodded then looked back at the others in the cell. “We’ll have to be quick, and I don’t know what we’re facing. I have the sword on my back, and I see Balin has his own.” He pulled another sword from his cache—or at least that’s what she thought she’d read it was called—this one slightly shorter but heavier looking, and gave it to Hunter. “I know you’ve fought with your hands for too long. Can you use this?”
Hunter nodded, taking the sword in his hand and feeling the weight. His eyes glowed gold, and he gave a feral smile. “It feels good to have a weapon again.”
Jamie held back a shudder at the look on his face. Though he’d scared her when she’d first met him in the cell, she’d grown comfortable around him. She had to remember he was a shifter who could kill her with one flick of his wrist.
Once she found out what she became…maybe she could fight back.
She swallowed hard. If she did indeed mate with Balin and Ambrose, she’d find out what ran through her blood, what made her weak now that would strengthen her.
She was ready.
Long past ready.
Balin slid his dagger from his pants and nodded as well. “Let’s get out of here.” She looked into those dark eyes with their red specks and didn’t fear the demon in him. No, she wanted to know more about him.
Who he was. What he loved. What he’d lost.
She just needed the time.
And damn, she’d get it.
“Follow me,” Ambrose said. “Jamie, I don’t want you to be without me or Balin around you at all times.”
“I will help as well,” Hunter said, and both the men who claimed to want her growled. “I’m not saying I’m her mate, for God’s sake. I’m only saying that I will protect her because she’s human. I don’t think the innocent should die because the ones who have fallen to evil decree it.”
Jamie smiled at the wolf who’d calmed her down in the cell and now vowed to protect her. It grated on her that she couldn’t do it herself, but she was human and not a fighter. She knew she was weaker than the rest, but when they got of there, she’d change that.
Maybe Balin or Ambrose would teach her to fight.
Maybe whatever she turned into would be stronger than what she was.
It was all going to change, and she relished it. As long as she got out of hell, she’d be okay.
Ambrose gripped her hand then seemed to struggle with himself before leaning and pressing his lips to hers. Shocked, she stood there, letting his smooth mouth cover hers. Though he was firm and hard everywhere, his lips were so soft she could melt into him. She closed her eyes, letting every moment and dream of what could be and what it was fill her. He parted her lips with his tongue, and she moaned. He tasted of musk and male—something she didn’t know she’d craved until it was too late.
He pulled back much too soon, his gray eyes bright, his pupils large. “Stay behind me,” he whispered, and she nodded.
“Wait,” Balin ordered and turned so he could capture her lips. Surprised, she froze before melting into him. While Ambrose was a slow and
steady heat that wound through her like a promise of more, Balin was a furnace, licking and burning with every touch, but she didn’t want to let go. He tasted of heat and cinnamon, an intoxicating combination.
He pulled back and grinned. “Now we’re ready to go.”
Jamie swayed on her feet, the taste of both men settling on her tongue and into her pores.
Hunter growled behind them. “Now that the two of you are done marking your territory, can we go?”
Jamie swallowed hard and shook her head to clear it. “That was…well…I don’t know what that was. We can talk about it when we get out.”
“That’s a promise,” Balin said, his face turning from the beautiful smile to a stony determination.
Ambrose merely stared then, after looking out the gate, pulled it open.
“Wait? How did you do that? I thought it locked from the outside.” she said. If it had been that easy, Hunter would have left long ago.
Ambrose turned over his shoulder and pressed a finger to his lips before leaning down to whisper, “I didn’t close it all the way before.”
Feeling dumb, she followed Ambrose, trying to be as quiet as possible. Seeing how she was with three very large male warriors, she was the loudest of the bunch. With each footstep, she swore the sound echoed down the hall right to the guards. In contrast, the men, who seemed way too large to move like they did, made no noise.
She’d have to add that to her list of things to learn.
That list seemed to be getting longer with each breath.
They moved at a brisk pace toward a grate she could just barely make out. Tension rode in her shoulders, and her heart beat so fast and so hard in her ears she was afraid she’d have a heart attack.
They had just made it to the grate when she heard the sound of footsteps coming at them. Balin cursed then turned. Ambrose lifted the metal grate off its hooks, but it was too late. At least twenty armed guards surrounded them, and the men around her picked up their swords, steadied their stances, and looked ready to fight.
And, she had nothing.
No sword, no strength…nothing.
Damn it.
Balin reached back from his position blocking her from the guards and slid a dagger into her palm. Now, she was more likely to stab herself, but at least she had something.
“You can’t escape,” one of the guards said. He didn’t look like Balin with his black horns curling over his head like a ram’s.
Balin chuckled. “You really think we care what you say? We’re not letting you have any of us.”
The guards grumbled then struck. Swords clashed as Balin went against two opponents, Ambrose against three, and Hunter against four. They cursed, grunted, and killed their way through the demons, all the while not moving far from her so nothing could touch her.
Damn it. She hated being weak. She wasn’t weak normally. There was nothing she could do but stay out of the way.
Something cold and sharp slid across her throat, and she froze.
“Stop fighting. I’ll kill her where she stands if you don’t lay down your weapons.”
Ambrose set his sword down first, the blood of the guards covering his torso and blade, anger on his face. Balin and Hunter followed soon after, neither of them looking happy about it.
Hell, this was her fault. Her weakness.
Jamie tried hard not to swallow too hard as the blade slid across her throat as close as it could without breaking the skin.
“Follow us,” the demon with the blade ordered. “The council wants to see you, Jamie. And, now they get to see all of you. I think they’ll enjoy this even more.”
They wanted to see her? God, her time was up. She’d be dammed if she went down as weak as she was. She’d find a way…she had to find a way.
“You can lower the blade,” Ambrose said, his voice deep and soothing, but she could hear the underlying tension. “We won’t put up a fight, but I’d rather you not slip and kill her.”
The demon who held her laughed, the blade digging in just that much deeper. She felt the warm trickle of her own blood trail down her neck, and she held back tears.
No, she couldn’t die like this.
The demon pulled back and let his knife fall to her side. “I’d rather not let her die at the moment either. I want to see what the council has planned for her, so let’s get going. Now.”
Fear clawed at her belly at his words, but she kept moving, Balin, Ambrose, and Hunter behind her, held at sword point by the guards who had lived.
They would have won the battle and escaped if she hadn’t been caught off guard…if she hadn’t been weak. She was sure of it.
Refusing to allow self-pity to take over and drown her, she held her chin high, wincing as her neck burned from what must have been only a small cut or she’d be dead.
They made their way through the dungeon halls, the demons and other species in cages, cat calling and worse from their cells. Most would be dead soon if what Hunter said was true about the survival rate of those in the games.
The games weren’t played to see who lived, but rather to see how they could die.
She didn’t want that to be her.
Finally, they entered a large hall where five demons, each with various colored and shaped horns sprouting from their heads, sat on large thrones. Two were dressed in long robes, while the other three wore leather pants and chains that adorned their thick chests.
“I see you’ve brought us the human…and her friends,” one of the ones in leather said, his voice deep and slick with something that made her want to run away.
“I’m Fury, the leader of this council,” he continued. “Bring me the wolf.”
The guards kicked the back of Hunter’s knees, and she held back a gasp as they dragged him toward the center of the room.
“You have been our prized fighter for long enough to know an escape attempt means death,” Fury said, his voice calm.
No, they couldn’t kill Hunter because of her.
“I think I’d rather see you die at the hands of a demon weaker than yourself. First, though, we need to make sure that happens.” With a nod, the guards beat Hunter with their fists and feet. The sound of each punch and kick echoed off the tall walls and brought bile to her mouth.
Hunter fell to his knees, and his eyes narrowed in pain as they beat him. One of them kicked him in the head, and Hunter let out a small grunt—the first sound he’d made. He let them beat him, but his eyes remained the same determined, animalistic yellow they always were.
Oh, God, they had to stop this.
Finally, after the blood flowed from a gash on his side and face, the largest of the guards moved forward and stepped on Hunter’s face. Jamie gasped at the crunch of her new friend’s nose breaking.
Her body shook as fear and revulsion warred within her. She wanted to go to his side and help, but she knew it was no use. She’d already caused this and didn’t want to cause anyone any more pain.
She had a feeling it was only the beginning though.
They dragged Hunter’s unconscious body away, and she feared it might be the last time she’d see him.
She risked a look at Ambrose, who stood tall, his face expressionless. He was an angel in a demon world. His presence alone might start a war. He’d risked it all for her.
She wasn’t worthy.
Damn it, she’d make herself worth it.
Somehow.
She’d repay them all.
Another demon came from the shadows, a smile on his face, and she held back a curse.
Pyro.
“Ah, I see my son has found a way to disgrace the Drake name once again,” Pyro stated as he took his seat on the empty sixth throne.
“I see you’re as much of a bastard as usual, father,” Balin drawled, his arms behind his back, but not tied—yet.
“I’m going to enjoy seeing you wither away and die,” Pyro spat. “Not before you watch the one who was to be yours die after they rape and beat her.”
&nb
sp; Balin growled, and her body shook at Pyro’s words. The picture the evil man painted made her want to either kick his ass or hide in a hole. Either way, she had to do something. She had to live.
“Pyro, enough,” Fury said, his voice cool. “Jamie Bennett. You were sold to the games and do not have a choice. We, the council, own you as well, and you will do as you’re told. You will fight at the midnight games as planned and will die. You will bring in more money in a fight than just by our blades now. They’ll want you for more than death.”
She swallowed hard at his words but didn’t say anything. She’d already known what they’d planned, but hearing it didn’t make her feel any better.
“Your life is forfeit.”
“You cannot own a human who has done nothing,” Ambrose said, his voice low, controlled.
“Ah, but we can. She’s a token of war,” Fury explained.
“There is no war,” Balin called out.
“As soon as this angel stepped foot on our land, he caused one. Now, we can overlook it and use Jamie as our draw. Or we can fight and kill other angels. The choice is yours.” Fury smirked, and Jamie felt the cold seep into her bones.
She risked the demons’ wrath and turned to Ambrose. “He’s lying. He’s just saying that to hurt you. He would have found a way to do what he’s doing whether you came to hell or not.”
The weight of countless years and decisions seemed to pass over Ambrose’s face, but he didn’t say anything to her. He merely turned and nodded toward the council.
“And if I fight in her stead?”
“No! You can’t do that,” she yelled, and his look cut her off.
Fury laughed. “Oh, that would be nice. We might just use you for a fight. After all, an angel in the demon games is almost unheard of. Alas, we want the human to die painfully before that. Then Balin will waste away because he isn’t demon enough to lick the shit off my boots. Then, because I know these two deaths will pain you… then I might let you die.”
Pyro laughed along with Fury, and Jamie wanted to scream.
They were just bullies who didn’t deserve to live.
She held no power—something she would have to fix.
Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle) Page 9