A slender blonde hurried out behind them, her shoulders tense. She was staggering, clearly drunk. But she looked freaked out, too. I had the sense she was trying to get away from someone.
When the door slammed open again and Jack prowled out after her, I had my answer. I wasn’t the only one he terrorized.
His eyes were locked on the girl, and my heart sped up.
“Jen!” he slurred. “Where you going? Jen! Stop being a fucking bitch! You should feel lucky I paid attention to you. You should feel lucky…I’m the best quarterback Osborne State ever had. I have business plans you can’t even imagine, Jen. I’m gonna be a billionaire. A trillionaire! I’m gonna be on TV.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but it was confirming the suspicions I already had about him. Narcissistic personality disorder: inflated sense of self-importance, preoccupation with power fantasies. A deeply insecure foundation badly covered up with pretenses of superiority and exaggerated achievements.
The blonde—Jen—stumbled over one of the cobblestones. That was when he lunged for her and grabbed her arm. She turned to face him, her eyes wide. “Let me go! You’re being a dick, Jack.”
“Jen!” he shouted in her face. “You were being a disgusting slut. You should be grateful I’m even talking to you.” With that, he gripped her arm hard and started to drag her toward the alley beside the bar.
“Stop it!” she yelled.
He pulled her in close to his body and clamped his hand over her mouth.
Oh, fuck this. I’d seen enough. My fight-or-flight response had started to kick in, and adrenaline pumped hard through my veins.
Chapter 5
I rushed after them and shouted, “Get your hands off her, Jack!”
He whirled around, and the surprise on his face quickly turned into a leer. He wasn’t giving up his grip on the blonde.
He grinned widely, moving closer to me with Jen in his arms. “Rowan, baby, are you stalking me? Were you hoping to get another chance with me? I told you, I don’t want you to suck my dick. I’d get a disease.”
He jerked her along with him as he staggered over to me.
“Let go of her,” I said coldly.
He kept moving closer until I could feel his rancid breath on my face. He reeked of vomit, which told me he had probably just been kicked out of the brewery for puking. Classy.
The silver hammer on his shirt glinted under the streetlights.
“Let go of Jen,” I said. “I don’t want to have to hit you again.”
A lie. I definitely wanted to hit him again, but I didn’t want to get in trouble for it. I was honestly surprised he hadn’t pressed charges already.
Jack, sadly, was too stupid to heed my warning, and he didn’t release his victim.
Now, my heart was starting to speed up, and anger coursed through my blood.
Male voices echoed from the left, and I turned to see that his friends had come back to find him. I hoped one of them would intervene so I wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty. Instead, one of them whooped at him, delighted. “Jack! You got two. Can we join the party?”
“I asked you once, nicely,” I told Jack. “If I have to ask again, I’ll hurt you.”
“You know what your problem is? You’re too uptight. I swear to God,” he slurred, “you should never have turned me down. I could have fucked the bitchiness out of you.”
At last, he dropped his grip on Jen, and she started to sprint away. But then he lunged for me. He grabbed me by the throat and pulled me close against him. His grip on my neck was crushing.
Mom was right. The world was a dangerous place, and we had to find our enemies’ weaknesses.
Fortunately, Jack’s wasn’t hard to find. I brought my knee up hard into his groin. His eyes went wide, and when he hunched forward, I slammed my elbow into one of his kidneys. He let out a quiet moan and fell back.
I was shaking with the realization that I might have done serious damage.
“Whoa,” one of his frat brothers shouted. “What the fuck is happening?”
Jack, now incapacitated, was on the ground. But his three brothers were rushing over, surrounding me.
“Holy shit, Jack,” one of them yelled. “Is this the chick who punched you last night, too? The one you turned down?”
Someone shouted that they were calling the cops.
Unfortunately for me, if anyone was going to get arrested here tonight, it would probably be me—the crazy woman who’d beaten the crap out of a congressman’s son. The one who’d had an outburst in class. The one who already had a questionable file at the Osborne Police Department.
Where the hell was Shai?
I clutched my phone, hesitating, until one of the frat boys smacked it out of my hands. He grinned at me. “Oopsie!”
“Dude!” one of them shouted, though I wasn’t sure who he was shouting at, or if he even knew.
All of them were wasted, which made them more dangerous. I wasn’t scared, though. Just angry.
Jack pushed himself up on his elbows, grimacing. “You can’t keep attacking me just because I won’t let you suck my dick. It’s kind of funny how pathetic it is, though.”
Lying sack of shit.
One of his brothers wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Come with us, Ginger. If you’re that desperate, I can find something for your mouth to do.”
I slammed my elbow into his ribs, but another guy was already grabbing for my arm. My panic surged as I realized how badly I was outnumbered. Frantic, I was ready to land another punch when something in the air seared my skin.
Time seemed to freeze. In slow motion, a hot, dry wind rushed over me, toying with my hair. Slowly, the frat boys around me staggered back, eyes wide, and then the world returned to normal speed.
I gaped as the nearest of the brothers fell to his knees, blood dripping from his nose.
What the hell?
Looking around, I found that the four other frat boys had fallen, too. They moaned, gripping their skulls. Jack whimpered, and blood gushed from his nostrils onto the cobblestones. My stomach swooped.
Just as the frat boys started screaming in agony, I turned…and there, just as I’d expected, was the Lord of Chaos. He loomed over the dark street, and my heart skipped a beat.
The air felt warm, electrified. A high-pitched scream rent the air, and I turned back to see Jack’s face contorted in pain.
Holy shit.
As much as I hated these guys, I didn’t want to stand there and watch their heads explode. This was sadism, and the agonized noises they were making turned my blood to ice.
I whispered, “Stop.” Then, louder, “Stop!”
The Lord of Chaos flicked his wrist, and his pale eyes slid to me. “What was that?” he asked in a mocking tone. “Do you want me to believe that you feel mercy?” The wisps of dark magic snapped back into his body. “That’s a fun idea. I like to see you trying new things, no matter how absurd.”
I looked away from him at the frat boys, who moaned as they began to pick themselves up. At least two of them were sobbing, blood still pouring from their noses. They started to stumble away—slowly, at first, then trying to run.
My body shook with the horror of whatever that had been.
When I looked back at the demon, I caught an amused glint in his eyes. “I thought you’d enjoy that.”
“Thanks for helping?” I said. “I guess?”
His smile faded, and he moved closer to me with preternatural speed. Peering down at me, his piercing eyes sent a shiver through my body. “Oh, I don’t think you want to thank me,” he murmured. “Do you? I think you must know what exquisite punishment is in store for you now, love.”
I could hardly breathe.
What the fuck?
I had to get away from him, but it was a mistake to turn your back and run from a predator. It was a mistake to act like prey. Right now, I was fighting an overpowering instinct to lower my eyes in submission. “You’re going to have to tell me what you mean
, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His hot power thrummed over my damp skin, raising the hair on the back of my arm. “You must know why I’m here.” He leaned down and whispered, “I’m here for revenge.”
His scorching magic snaked around me, a slow brush of hot power over my skin. He was freezing me in place, taking complete control over my body. All of my muscles froze.
“Stop it,” I hissed.
But I could already feel his magic sliding inside my mind, and my vision began to dim. I was in his hands now.
Chapter 6
I woke in total darkness to the sound of dripping water, my back pressed against a cold stone floor. My dress had ridden up around my hips, exposing my legs, and my right thigh lay in freezing cold water. My teeth chattered.
Down here, the air smelled stale and mildewy, though not wildly different from the basement where I lived.
Shivering, I sat up straight, my mind whirling.
From what I’d gathered, the Lord of Chaos had kidnapped me, and he’d locked me in a basement. I hadn’t expected an amazing birthday, but this certainly fell far below my worst expectations.
My heart thundered in my chest. I shot to my feet, searching for my phone. Only then did I remember that one of the frat boys had smacked it out of my hands.
Swallowing hard, I wrapped my arms around myself. “Hello?”
My own voice echoed back to me. The only other noise was the sound of dripping water.
After a few minutes, I started feeling around in the darkness. My fingertips brushed over a slimy wall, moss, ivy, and then iron bars.
Okay, I wasn’t in a basement. I was in a jail cell. Or a dungeon, perhaps.
“Hello?” I called again.
As I stared into the darkness, flames burst to life in the torches on a stone wall across from me, making me jump. But since no one was around, I could only imagine that magic had lit the torches. Now, warm light wavered over my cell, illuminating the iron bars that locked me in.
I surveyed the dim space. Vines grew over three of the walls around me, and across from my cell was a crude stone wall with the torches. That was about it.
As my heart raced, I crossed to the bars and gripped them, waiting. Down here, it was cold enough that my breath clouded before my face.
A few moments later, I heard the sound of footfalls.
Then the Lord of Chaos arrived before my cell, his perfect features gilded in the torchlight. It was too bad he was a demon and an unrelenting asshole because he was heartbreakingly beautiful. He stood with an eerie, demonic stillness that made goosebumps rise on my skin. The amygdala—the part of my brain that assessed a threat—instantly picked him out as predator, not human. My brain was telling me to get the fuck out of there, and it didn’t seem to care that there were bars.
“There you are, love,” he purred.
I stared at him, trying to remember how to form sentences. “Don’t lock someone in a dungeon and then call them love.”
He chuckled softly, taunting. “Sorry, is that bad manners?” His smile faded fast. “I guess I don’t give a fuck, Mortana.”
“Why am I here?”
“Because I loathe you more than any other living person, and I’ve always wanted to see you on the other side of these bars.” His cruel gaze brushed slowly up and down my body. “It’s fucking delicious. Especially seeing what a sad little life you’ve been living among the mortals. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”
I pointed at him. “You need to understand that everything you’re saying is wrong.”
He stepped closer, his eyes piercing in the gloom, and gripped the cell bars. “This night has been delightful. I never quite imagined it being this good.” Despite the fact that he was threatening me at every opportunity, his voice felt like a soft, seductive caress. It brushed over my bare skin, sending a hot shiver through my body—a deeply confusing sensation. “This might be the greatest thrill I’ve ever experienced. Don’t you remember what it was like when you used to come see me?”
Panic was stealing my breath. “I’m not the person you think I am. How can I make you see that?”
An ice-cold smile. “Oh? Have you had a change of heart in the past few centuries? Are you nice now?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Shall we have a bake sale to fund sports for underprivileged mortal children?”
“I’m not two centuries old. I’m mortal. Can’t you tell the difference? I’m from Osborn. I went to Osborn High School. I was Lady Macbeth in one of the plays junior year, and I fell off the stage. Jared Halverson asked me to the prom as a joke, and I got dressed up in a black gown, and he never showed up.” I blurted these last few tidbits of information in a desperate attempt to explain how utterly nonthreatening I was.
His smile only deepened, his beauty making my chest ache. “Well, this is a rather sad display. You’re really going to play it this way? The night before your execution, Mortana, and you’re going to pretend to be a mortal who’s pathetic even among the other humans? This is fascinating.”
I ignored the degree to which he was insulting me and focused on one word: Mortana. There, I had a name. I pointed at him. “Okay. Let’s start here. Mortana. That’s not me. My name is Rowan Morgenstern. If you’ll check my wallet, you’ll see my ID. I’m twenty-two years old. It’s my birthday tonight. I gave a presentation about repressed memories today, and I fucked it right up. I live in a basement with spiders.” It seemed I was unable to stop spewing irrelevant information.
What were the chances an ancient terrifying demon would accept a Massachusetts license as proof of identity? Not great, I thought.
My heart was racing out of control. “There’s got to be some way that I can prove I’m not Mortana.” Never before had I felt so desperate to be back in that spidery basement.
He gave a bitter laugh. “Here I was, hoping for remorse. I thought you might want to unburden yourself before your death. But I see I won’t get that particular pleasure.”
My mouth went dry. “Before my death?”
“You must remember the prison gallows,” he said quietly. “I certainly do.”
I shook my head, my heart thundering. “No. I don’t!” I shouted. “Because for the last fucking time, I’m not Mortana!”
Shadowy magic spilled around him, then shifted in the air. “You’ve been out of the city gates long enough that you will die quickly. You will die like a mortal if I kill you tomorrow morning before your magic returns. It’s not really the death you deserve, but it’s the one you’ll get. You can thank me tomorrow, love, for your mercifully quick death. Assuming you’re not ready to thank me now.”
And with that, he turned and strolled away, shadows coiling around him.
As I watched him leave through the cell bars, the torches flickered out, and darkness filled the prison again.
Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I tried to corral my racing thoughts into a plan. Screaming and begging would do no good. In the darkness, I searched out a dry part of the cell and slid down into one corner. And as I sat in the silence, I realized my first mistake. Dr. Omer would have called me on it right away. You can’t just tell someone they’re wrong—they’ll just argue back. You have to gently guide them to the conclusion themselves so it seems like their idea.
I dropped my face into my hands, my chest tight.
On the cold cell floor, a sense of loneliness hollowed me out. Was I really going to die in this place? Buried with all my secrets? There were so many things I’d never told anyone. Things that were too dark, too scary.
I hadn’t told anyone that the night mom died, I’d been covered in ashes. My senior year of high school, the police had found Mom’s charred body in the Osborne Forest. They’d found me by the side of the road half a mile away, shaking and covered in soot. When I talked about her murder, I could always sense the change in the air. I could feel muscles tensing, breath sucking in. No one wanted the absolute horror of having to hear more about a mother incinerated in a forest
. People looked at me differently after learning about what had happened, as if the tragedy had cursed me. And it had.
I didn’t tell anyone how I’d been nearly catatonic, with confused memories of the night. I hadn’t told Shai that when the police had interviewed me, I’d been incoherent, and that I’d been a suspect for a while. All I could remember was that Mom had injured her ankle. She’d told me to run, fast, to get help. I’d known we were in danger, and I’d started to take off in the dark woods. But then I’d heard it—the inhuman sound like a growl. The smell of flesh burning, and her screams. That’s when my memories became muddled, but I remembered a five-pointed star burning bright in the darkness.
The only thing still clear to me from that point on was the bone-deep terror.
After the police interviewed me, they came to the conclusion that I was delusional, possibly on drugs. Demons hadn’t killed mortals in centuries. It wasn’t even possible, they were certain. Have you lost your mind, Rowan?
Eventually, they’d come up with a half-baked theory that the murder was probably drug-related. But that wasn’t Mom. She never did drugs.
At school, the rumors had gone wild. People who didn’t know a thing about Mom had said she was a prostitute, a drug addict. Some had said I’d killed her in a fit of rage—that I’d poured gasoline on her and lit a match.
When I found the real killer, I’d know what actually happened.
“Fuck,” I muttered. Then, louder. “I am not Mortana!”
A sigh sounded from the next cell. Was someone there?
“Hello?” I tried again, this time more quietly. I felt oddly relieved to have company. “I didn’t know anyone else was here.”
The only response was another sigh. Definitely someone there.
Hugging myself, I swallowed hard. “I’m not supposed to be here. I know, right, everyone probably says that, but I’m mortal. I don’t think demons are supposed to imprison mortals. Don’t suppose you know how to get out of here?”
City of Thorns (The Demon Queen Trials Book 1) Page 3