Demon from the Dark (Immortals After Dark #10)(66)

“Why have you taken me?” Malkom demanded, renewing his efforts to get free. He was burning to return and seize the witch. She was here, for some reason imprisoned as he was.

Perhaps she’d failed to bring back the next male her masters had dispatched her to deceive.

“All in good time, Slaine.” Sweat beaded Chase’s upper lip, and his pupils were dilated. Malkom scented a sickly sweet smell, knew the man was taking some kind of drug.

When a dark-haired woman in a white coat entered, Chase told her, “His blood’s been drawn. The second your lab’s done, you’ll destroy it.”

“But his orders—”

“Destroy it!” Chase snapped.

Once the woman collected the glass tubes and left, Malkom said, “What do you want with me?”

“There’s much interest in you. In your genesis.” The man seemed both fascinated and disgusted by Malkom. “Today, you’re going to tell me all about it. And tomorrow, my physicians will examine you, to see what makes you faster, stronger.”

“So you can make more like me?”

“So we can make sure your kind is never miscreated again. By anyone.” Chase had a demented gleam in his bloodshot eyes that even the Viceroy hadn’t displayed.

Because the Viceroy had never despised the demons he’d tortured. He hadn’t cared about them enough to.

“Do you think we’re the only ones, mortal or otherwise, who have been seeking you?” Chase asked. “There are only four of your kind known. We have to acquire all of you, if for no other reason than to prevent someone else from doing it. You have proven the easiest to catch, since you can’t trace.”

The others could? Was it still possible for him? “Release me. Fight me yourself.” Though the mortal appeared unwell, he was tall, his build rangy but strong.

Chase ignored him. “We’ll start with the most basic question. Who made you?”

Malkom gave no answer. Instead he studied the ceiling above him, imagining the expression on the witch’s beautiful face as he tormented her, possessing her body while stealing her blood.

In a low tone, Chase commanded, “Answer me.”

“You do not frighten me,” Malkom said. “I know much about torture.”

“Then I’m about to teach you more.”





30




Carrow was still shaking from her earlier encounter with Malkom when they dragged him by, half-dead, hours later. The whites of his eyes were fully red. Blood streamed from his nose, ears, and mouth.

What had they done to him? Her tears welled once more.

He thrashed to get free, to reach her cell. His voice a weak rasp, he said, “Bound forever, wife? Is this what you wanted me for?”

Though he resisted, the guards subdued him more easily, hauling him away, back to his own cell.

As soon as they were out of sight, Ember said, “Wife? The witch is hitched!”

Naturally, Ruby had peeked out, witnessing the exchange. “Who was that?”

Ember delighted in answering, “He’s your new stepdad. Or rather, your stepdemon.”

Portia cried, “Felicitations!”

“Carrow?” Lanthe slanted her an arch look. “Surely you didn’t . . .”

Ember laughed. “Yes, do deny it, witch.”

“It was one of those demon proclaiming ceremonies,” Carrow hedged.

Lanthe relaxed. “So it doesn’t count.”

Again, Carrow recalled Malkom’s expression the first time he’d called her “wife.” He’d gazed down at her with such pride, as if he’d carried a treasure . . . . “It counts,” she said. “I don’t deny it—or him.” Even if Malkom was lost to her.

Lanthe gasped.

Ruby frowned with confusion.

Ember snickered, and a haze fell over Carrow’s vision.

Malkom’s torture, and Regin’s as well, these last days of misery, imprisonment with these evil bitches . . . all too much to take. With a strangled yell, Carrow launched herself at Ember, clocking her in the nose.

Blood spurted, but Ember rebounded, screaming thickly as she delivered a blow to the side of Carrow’s head. Her ear sang. Damn, that sorceress was fast.

“Stop this, witch!” Lanthe snapped.

Too late. Carrow had already jabbed her fist against Ember’s throat; at the same time, the sorceress popped Carrow in the mouth, splitting her lip.

“Portia, do something!” Lanthe said. “They’re going to gas us.”

“Stop!” Ruby suddenly cried. “Something’s coming.”

Lanthe grabbed Carrow, yanking her back. As Portia dragged Ember away, her gaze darted all around them, even above them. “The child is right. Evil flies to us on a foul wind.”

“Evil flies to us?” Carrow dabbed the back of her hand over her bleeding lip. “Really? And on a foul wind, no less!”

“There’s a malevolence nearing us, witch,” Portia said. “You can’t feel its fury? Your girl did.”

Carrow did feel it then. The air around them was thrumming. But from what?

Down the corridor, the ghouls wailed their uneasiness. Gnomes hissed, and a centaur’s hoofs clacked against the stone floor.

An outraged bellow sounded. Chase’s? He was probably furious that Regin hadn’t been destroyed completely.