Page 63 of The Demon's Fire
Before Jace closed the work, boots thudded across the kitchen floor. When the bedroom door flew open, an unknown man leaned against the jamb. He was taller than six feet, topped with straight dishwater-blond hair falling to his shoulders, and made super scary by brown eyes ringed with crimson. When his lips curled, he revealed sharp fangs.
Jace, her heart pounding against her ribs, hugged her companion. She flashed on her captor, Silas, who had attacked her and sunk teeth into her neck. This man could be a stunt double. He was a vampire, too.
Celene patted Jace’s hand while she glared at the intruder.
“You wanted me. I’m here. Get your asses out of bed and eat.” His voice scraped across Jace’s skin like sandpaper.
Gathering her courage, she spoke first. “You have to give us some information before we do anything.”
“We have demands.” Celene scooted against the headboard, sitting straighter, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Demands?” He materialized next to Celene, grabbed her arm, and yanked her out of the bed, slapping her across the face. Once. Twice. Her legs gave out. She hung dishrag-limp in his grip. “Now get the fuck to the kitchen. Eat.”
Jace winced at his treatment of her friend but threw her shoulders ramrod straight and continued. “No. First you tell us what we want to know. Second, meet our demands.” She lowered her eyes. “We’re prepared to die.”
He tossed Celene onto the bed. Jace pulled her tight, smoothing a hand down her back. Her roommate’s cheek was red, already beginning to swell.
“You want answers? Follow me.” He stalked out the door.
“Are you all right, honey? Can you make it out there?” Jace asked.
“I’ll make it. Asshat won’t break me.” Celene wiggled her jaw but pushed up, grabbed her robe, tying it around her, and padded toward the outer room.
Jace rose, slipped baggy sweatpants on over her pajama bottoms, and followed.
The women sat beside each other on the couch while the non-human slouched in the large side chair.
He waved his hand at them. “Well. What do you want to know?”
Celene clasped Jace’s palm. “For starters, what is your name? What are you?”
“I’m the vampire Lort.”
Jace took a deep breath. “Why are we here? Where are we?”
“You are here because my boss thinks you are special females. Don’t ask to meet him. You’ll starve to death before that shit happens. You are on Scath. Not Earth. It’s a different realm.”
Celene squinted her eyes. “What’s special about us? How long does he plan to keep us? What does he propose to do with us?”
“My answer to all three questions is ‘I dunno.’ It’s the old pay grade issue.”
Jace squeezed Celene’s hand. None of this information made her feel warm, fuzzy. In fact, she was cold, scared. “Our guards aren’t human. What are they?”
“Mostly demons of one tribe or another. Does it matter?”
Releasing Jace’s grip, Celene shook her head. “We have demands. We can’t survive penned in like this. We need activities. We need fresh air.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Movies, games, outdoor exercise, an indoor gym. Shit to occupy our time. We want to meet with you whenever we have concerns.”
The vampire unfolded from his chair, his movement liquid, his lips curled into a sneer. “I will see about yourdemands.” He emphasized this last word. Lort flashed to Jace, pulling her off the couch, walking her backward until she slammed against the wall. He yanked her sweats down and cupped her sex through her thin pajamas. “If you stop eating again or threaten me or my males, you’ll regret it. You will not die because my boss forbids it. Trust me, though, there are worse things than death. Now get out in the kitchen and eat.”
He stormed from their quarters, promising to return with solutions if they did as directed. Her eyes tearing, Jace glanced at Celene. She swiped at the leaking moisture. He had answered their basic questions, holding out hope their demands would be met. But their circumstances sounded hopeless. Monsters held them captive for an unknown reason, for an unknown length of time, in an unknown place. The end game of their jailer was a mystery. She would have said life couldn’t get any worse, but she was afraid it had.
Celene sprang off the couch, stomping toward the kitchen, opening a can of chicken noodle soup, heating it in a pan.
Jace joined her. Between sobs, she slurped liquid and munched crackers with a water chaser.
