The demon in front of me spun and then flinched back. “Your Highness,” he said, bowing his head.
Highness? So the new visitor had rank, the serious kind.
“I’m going to need some alone time with our prisoner.” His voice was steady. He didn’t need to prove that he had authority here, and that made him all the more dangerous.
I forced my eyes to focus on him while the rest of the demons scattered. Dark curls fell over his forehead and into his light amber eyes. Physically, he only looked a handful of years older than I did, but it was those eyes that made me think he really was much older than me. There was history in his eyes.
“You don’t look so well,” he said, his gaze roaming over me in a disinterested perusal of my injuries.
“Fuck you,” I gritted out.
The demon chuckled. “Your spirit is admirable, if stupid.”
What difference did it really make at this point? He was going to do whatever he wanted to me regardless of what I said to him. Though I doubted I’d be saying anything else. Getting those two words out had taken more out of me than I’d like to admit.
The demon rolled up the sleeves of his button-down. He studied me, and for a moment I thought I saw something like regret flash in his eyes. Then the only thing flashing was the knife he plunged into my side.
I tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go.
White-hot pain exploded along my side. I didn’t have the energy to do anything more than grunt. I couldn’t draw a breath, couldn’t feel anything past the pure agony.
“Blood loss won’t kill an angel,” the demon said as he yanked the knife back out, “but it still hurts like fucking hell.”
He was right, but it wasn’t the pain that worried me. I could deal with that. It was the fog that stole my memories, my thoughts and feelings, everything that I was. I didn’t just feel drained, I feltempty. There was nothing left inside me to fight with, and I knew the darkness would take advantage of my weakness.
The chains fell away from my arms and torso, and I collapsed in the pool of black blood that had collected on the floor of the cell.
“And I’ve been told that when you lose enough, it can turn you into a monster.”
The world was fading, or maybe I was fading. Everything and everyone I’d ever cared about turning to smoke. Until I only had one word left.
Laila.
And then that was gone too.
NINE
Laila
It hadto have been days since I’d seen Joriel, but it felt like years. I missed him with a desperation that scared me.
I’d actually tried to stay away from him this time, not because his warnings had scared me off but because I thought he might need the space. But with every step I took closer to him, I was sure that had been a mistake. I could feel it deep in my soul. Joriel needed someone to believe in him. And I did. I wasn’t giving up on him no matter what he said or how much he tried to push me away.
I needed him. And he needed me just as much.
My feet stopped moving before my brain could fully register the scene in front of me.
Joriel lay in a crumpled heap on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood as black as ink.
He lifted his head to look at me, and I gasped. His blue eyes looked nearly silver, the color leached out of them, but it was his expression that had my heart breaking in my chest. There was no recognition in his face. The only things I saw were pure agony and desperation and… hunger.
“Joriel,” I whispered, taking a tiny step back.
He didn’t react to his name being spoken. I didn’t think he knew who he was any more than he knew who I was.
“Joriel.” I tried again, my voice coming out sounding strangled.
This wasn’t happening. I couldn’t lose him. Resolve straightened my spine. I wasn’t going to turn around and leave him like this.
