On top of that, his arm burned where he’d been stabbed with the syringe of angel blood, and his head spun like he had the hangover of a lifetime.
But the worst pain of all was his embarrassment at being taken out so easily. One jab and he’d dropped like a stone.
He ought not to be surprised, though. Angel blood was potent stuff, a surefire way to bring down a demon of any size and strength. It was a known weapon but not a common one, as it was one of the hardest things to find on the Blood Market.
Maybe Meph ought to be flattered that Valefor considered him important enough to use what had to be a priceless dose, but mostly, he was just annoyed. And pissed. And... scared. It shamed him to admit it, but it was true. He didn’t want to be here again. He’d thought he’d left this behind for good. He’d thought he was safe.
“You’re awake.”
Meph turned his throbbing head and blinked, meeting the loathsome gaze that was burned into all his worst memories. Still in human form, Valefor was crouched, and he watched Meph with that avaricious gleam that had always made his skin crawl. Literally crawl, in fact, like those times he’d been dunked in a vat of scorpions.
Yeah, his memories with Val were real fucking peachy.
“What the—” Meph managed, but he was still too groggy to formulate his thoughts into a question. And whatever was wrong with his midsection was making him want to pass out.
He had enough awareness to realize he was sprawled on cold stone in the middle of a big binding sigil. The kind that was made to trap powerful demons.
Valefor smiled. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time, Mephistopheles. Raum took you away from me, but I always knew I would get you back.”
Like Meph was a prized chihuahua or some shit? Valefor had always seen his demon as a deranged pet he could train to do tricks. Unfortunately, he was kinda right.
As if to prove it, there was a familiar bullwhip in his hand, coiled into a tight spiral. The sight of it alone was enough to make Meph’s stomach churn. Val had always kept the whip in his coat—at one point, all he’d needed to do was pretend to reach for it to get Meph to fall in line—but he was holding it now, likely to serve as a reminder of the cost of disobedience.
“How... ?”
Speaking was still a bit of a challenge. Meph was too busy trying not to lose control of himself. There was a burning pit of hunger and darkness rising steadily inside him like a volcano nearing eruption, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold it in.
Which made no sense. None of this did.
“How did I find you?” That heinous smile stretched Valefor’s face again. “Why, I’m so glad you asked.”
And then Meph heard it. A muffled scream, a sound of stifled rage. It was a voice he knew well, and it made his stomach drop out the bottom of him.
He blinked hard, fighting to focus through the persistent throbbing in his head, and then he saw her. Iris was on the ground in the far corner, hands bound in front of her, a gag tied over her mouth.
His awareness expanded to his surroundings. Cold stone floor and walls. Torchlight barely illuminating the gloom. Long, creeping shadows. Dank, musty air.
He knew this place. Knew it very well, in fact.
They were in Hell.
Fury filled him. Valefor had taken Iris to his lair, the last place in all the realms Meph wanted her going.
He tensed his abs to sit up—preferably to launch at Valefor and tear his fucking face off—but a lance of pain shot through him so powerfully that he blacked out. When he came to seconds later, he finally looked down at whatever was wrong with him and nearly puked.
His shirt was missing, and it looked like Val had had a go at recreatingFlayed Alive, because there was a big chunk of skin missing across the front and side of his torso.
Most of the binding sigil, the tattoo that kept his demon form contained, was gone.
It was a hack job and hadn’t taken off the full design, but it was enough. The sigil was interrupted, and Meph immediately understood that the bubbling, volcanic ravenousness inside him was coming straight from his unleashed demon.
He could shift again. All it would take was a little persuasion. He glanced at Iris and suddenly had a pretty good idea how Val was going to convince him to do it.
How long had Valefor been lurking next door to Iris, waiting to make his move? How long had she been in danger while Meph hadn’t had a clue?
You dumbass motherfucker.He’d kick his own ass if he could.
“Iris,” he croaked, tilting his head to meet her gaze as a multitude of emotions coursed through him. Fury, helplessness, regret, sheer fucking terror. He couldn’t even identify half of them.
