Page 140 of A Drop of Anguish
“No. We have his chosen,” the man says. “He’ll do anything to get her. Too bad he doesn’t realize that we own her now.”
I turn my attention to where the grey-skinned demon holds a man by his throat midair. His wings casually beat up and down, keeping him in the air. Jarron has Mr. Vandozer.
“What are you doing?” a familiar high-pitched voice cries out with a hint of panic. Two of the other masked figures are holding Liz by either arm. A third presses a black blade to her heart.
My blood runs cold. They wouldn’t—they couldn’t kill her, could they?
“Put me down,” Mr. Vandozer barks. “We’ll talk this out.”
Slowly, the winged demon lowers onto the platform, but he doesn’t release Mr. Vandozer.
“Bring Candice up here,” he says.
Liz’s face is filled with rage, but one of the masked beings releases her arm. She snaps, and suddenly, I am on the platform beside her, and the woman holding a knife to my throat right alongside me.
Liz is being held by those two men. On her forearm is a long scar. Even being a jinn has not healed it. That’s the scar Jarron gave her as kids.
“What’s happening?” I whisper to Liz.
She doesn’t answer.
“Release me,” Mr. Vandozer croaks. He gurgles suddenly, suggesting Jarron tightened his grip instead of doing as commanded.
The woman behind me tsks and presses the blade tighter against my skin. Warmth wells on my neck, and I squeeze my eyes closed. Liz’s gasp suggests they’re doing the same to her.
“There’s nothing you can do,” an unfamiliar man says. “You might be powerful, but we have something precious to you. Two somethings actually. You cannot save them both.”
“Which will he choose?” the woman holding me says, then laughs like the answer is obvious.
My stomach sinks.
A man steps toward the winged demon slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Let me explain this to you simply,” he says. “Since your mind still seems a bit scrambled.” He chuckles.
Jarron’s jaw clenches, but he watches the new threat closely.
“As a young, unbonded demon, you have a few vulnerabilities we intend to exploit. You cannot speak about your chosen, but we can. They already know, you know?” He points to Liz and me. “That was a fun game while it lasted, but there’s another restriction I’d like to play with. You also cannot harm your chosen, nor can youallowharm to come to them.”
I straighten. This is new information, and I work my mind over what I know, desperate for anything to help us out of this situation.
“I have both of them at my mercy. Your mate and the woman you love. How sad they’re not the same.” He mock-pouts at Jarron, who’s still clenching his hand over Mr. Vandozer’s windpipe. From what I know about demons, he cannot kill him this way, but his pain does give my heart a small bit of relief.
“You could set off a magical explosion to save your mate. It would be swift and violent enough. I can see you welling that power inside, ready to denote.” He nods to Jarron’s chest, as if we can all somehow see the magic inside of him. How does one see something like that? What kind of being is this guy? “I certainly couldn’t stop you. But you would kill Candice in the process. You do realize that, right? You cannot harm your chosen, but you can certainly harm her. Your magic would disintegrate her.”
The man grins, and a new deep hatred forms in my chest. I don’t know who he is, but I want him dead.
“So, you can choose. Save your mate but let the other one die. She’d still be our slave of course, but you’d probably kill a few of us in the process, and you yourself would escape to live another day.”
My heart throbs.
“Or you could fight the old-fashioned way and hope you’re fast enough. Note, Akira is quite swift, and it only takes a nudge with that blade to kill a human. Except, you see, I know your weakness. And the human is not the only one vulnerable. Killing the jinn would take more than a quick swipe, to be sure, but the moment you know she’s in danger, your instinct will take over and you will not fight for Candice anymore. You will choose Liz. It’s how your power works.”
“You wouldn’t harm her. She’s your jinn,” I spit.
“Ahh true!” the man says, holding up a finger. “Smart girl. But here’s the kicker—that doesn’t matter. The demon only has to feel that physical threat, and he will have no choice but to act. Logic plays no role.”
This guy is really starting to piss me off. “Who are you?” I ask. “I’d like a face to picture killing before I die.”
The man chuckles. “But allow me to present an alternative in which both girls survive.”
