Page 6 of True Sacrifice
She tried several times to get me to leave. When throwing things at me didn’t work, she started talking to me. Sometimes I would caw in response. Her giggles bounced through the mind of the crow before I got to feast on them. Within hours, I had earned enough trust to fly down onto her headboard.
“Oh hi,” she said, reaching out her hand to touch me.
I flew away again, out of reach. Maybe Jax was right, and this would be a really fun game to play after all.
“Please, come back,” she called after me and I swore I could feel my real body smile.
I made her wait for another half an hour before I flew down again. Watching as she struggled with the urge to reach out and try to touch me.
“Hi. My name is Morrigan.” Her voice was even softer this time.
She was determined not to scare me away. Inspecting her eyes, I finally felt my soul and hers as the bond clicked into place. If she felt it too, she gave no physical clues. Her eyes were green, with a sunburst of yellow around the center. I memorized the image in an instant and then flew back up to my crystal perch.
She liked it when I was closer, but she continued to talk to me from my perch. Divulging her life to me. She didn’t really understand how she died, or why she was in Hell. At least I could tell Jasper to explain that part to her.
I filed all the information away.
They left her there for three days. By the end of the second day, she referred to me as Crow-lee. I still had to taste test her food when it appeared or else she wouldn’t touch a single bite, and even then, she ate far less than her body needed. I would have to force feed her when I got to really meet her. She needed her strength if she had any chance of keeping up with a demon pack.
I waited until a knock sounded at her door. Jasper didn’t wait for a greeting before he opened the door wide.
CHAPTER3
MORRIGAN
Aknock sounded at the door, but I barely swung my legs off the bed before the giant red dude burst his way back into my room. I did not give a fuck what he wanted to say to me. He left me here for three damn days without so much as a fucking word. The final straw was when Crowley launched from his perching crystal and flew through the open door.
“No, no, no, no, no. Don’t let him escape! He’s my only friend.” I jumped up trying to make it to the crow before I lost sight of him, but he flew away in an instant and I was way too close to Mr.-doesn’t-talk-much.
Like really fucking close. As in, I could see his tattoos poking out on his chest where a single button was undone. Close enough to see he wore a black vest on top of his black button-up. This time his sleeves were down, with little, tiny skull cufflinks in silver. I could feel the air between us heat. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t decide if it was the anger or adrenaline. Ah, fuck it.
I put my full weight into a swing, and despite my height, I crack my knuckles wide open against his jaw. Pain immediately blossomed through my hand, radiating bursts shot through my arm. I pulled my hand to my chest, wincing at the pain, but I’m pretty sure I had heard something in his face crack. I effectively fucked my hand. There was a crack or two that had belonged to me as well. The only hope I had left was that this asshole would move out of the way so I could run.
He stood there frozen, like a giant scary-ass gargoyle, his head tilted to the side. A hand rested over the spot on his cheek where my fist hit. He said we were in Hell. What if this dude was a gargoyle? It would explain why hitting him felt like hitting a wall.
“If you had put some power behind that punch, you could have hurt me,” he said with a predatory gaze. His fingers smeared through my blood on his cheek. He licked each finger, staring me down the whole time.
I forgot to be offended by the jab he made against my punch. There was something seriously wrong going on here. I was playing by kidnapped rules. I was dealing with something in Hell. As in fucking evil, twisted creatures. So far, he hasn’t tried to hurt me, but maybe I shouldn’t go around punching the gargoyles.
“You left me here all alone.” I backed away and flopped down on the bed. Hopefully, he would see that I wasn’t planning on hitting him again.
“You do not seem to want to see me.” His voice was smooth and low, with no hint of irritation or anger.
“I don't know what’s going on. I just want someone to answer my questions. Help me understand.” I cradled my bad hand with my good one, watching the blood ooze from my split knuckles.
He looked at me again, like he was studying me. It was a little unnerving to be held under his stare. His tail swished back and forth lazily.
“You were a human. You are now a demonling and we are in Hell. Pandemonium to be specific. The Hell palace. My name, as I told you before, is Jasper, Prince of Lust, Son of Asmodeus.” He took a moment to bow, and I was entirely confused. That sounded a whole hell of a lot like a title.
“What’s a demonling?” If that is what he thinks I am, I should find out what it means.
“A demonling is a human soul mated to a demon soul.” He just stood there in the doorway.
Mated. Great. I’ve read enough books to get a feel for the ways this could go down. I also knew enough about life to understand shit doesn’t always work out that great. I balled my fists, not willing to be forced into a relationship I didn’t want, but I forgot about my damn hand being broken. “Ow.”
That got him moving faster than I could react. He was on his knees before me, taking my hand gently into his own. I winced as he moved my fingers straight and I heard a growl deep within his chest. That sound could never have come from a human. My mind reeled with the key awareness that a demon was currently holding my hand. His touch remained soft, trying to hurt me as little as possible as he moved my fingers into a better position.
“Do demonlings have doctors?” I said with half a laugh.
