Embraced (The Eternal Balance #2)(56)
“Have you come to your senses?” the female angel who’d brought me here asked. She was with another, a new male. He was over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a cruel grin. “We have no wish to cause you pain, Samantha. If you do not allow me to claim you, the demon cuff will end your life. What a waste that will be.”
“Then let me go,” I tried. “Give me a fighting chance to get this thing off.”
She frowned. It almost looked genuine. “If I could, I most certainly would. But to allow hell to obtain you would be devastating.”
“Then we’re all in luck,” I said as another ripple of pain radiated. “That won’t happen. I have no intention of letting myself be used for evil.” I fixed my gaze on her. “Or your so-called good.”
She sighed and shook her head, stepping to the side. The grim set of her lips screamed of irritation, but worse than that, determination. “I’ve tried to persuade you with methods that, while mentally disturbing, did not cause you any real harm. I’m afraid you leave me no choice.”
The male angel stepped forward, towering over me. I didn’t like the look in his eyes. Part excitement and part anger—equally dangerous. His movements were too quick to follow. His hand whipped around, a blur of motion followed by a world-rocking blow. My head snapped sideways, the room exploding until all that remained was a collection of shapeless, colored blobs and distorted sound.
When my vision cleared, I stretched my jaw, cringing when it went snap-crackle-pop. I’d been a trouble maker as a kid. Jax and I had gotten into more tight spots than I cared to admit, but I’d never been in a fight. I’d never taken an actual blow.
I tasted fresh blood, the metallic tang of it turning my stomach. The angel lifted a finger, rubbing it across my bottom lip, then lifting it to his own. “Consent to be claimed.”
I spat out a mouthful of blood, making sure to get his shoes, and said, “Nope.”
It was exactly what he wanted to hear. The spark of excitement in his eyes bloomed into an all-out four-alarm fire. He reached for me, hand curling into the material of my shirt, and hefted me off the seat. “Do you think this a game, human?”
“What I think,” I said with as much courage as I could muster, “is that you’re full of shit. You need my consent to get my power—which I’m not giving. You can try to scare me into it, but it’s bullshit. If you were willing to kill me, you’d have done it already.”
“You’re correct. To waste your full potential would be criminal. I have no intention of killing you. But there are so many things on this earth that are far worse than death.” He laughed and leaned in close. “Trust me. You will consent.”
It was his voice, much more than the threat itself, that chilled me from the inside out. It held the promise of agony.
He lifted me higher, lips curving upward. “I believe it’s time—”
“Mishca! Falel! Get—” The sentence cut off, followed by the sounds of chaos. A continuous stream of breaking glass and muffled screams sounded from the floor above us until it finally reached the door.
Four sets of feet slowly descended the stairs, in no particular hurry. Falel set me down, but didn’t let go, and Mishca hissed at the newcomers. “Unclean,” she spat. “You dare trespass on our ground?”
“You have something that belongs to us,” one of the party crashers said. I tilted my head to the right, trying to ignore the not-so-subtle swimming in my brain at the movement, and saw the newcomers were demons.
“You will not take the Pure. I will spare your life if you leave now.”
The quintet of demons laughed in unison. The tallest of them stepped to the front, hands on his hips and eyes fixed on me. “How about this: if you hand over the Pure, we will spare your lives.”
“I’ve got a third option,” I interjected as all heads swiveled in my direction. “Let me go, and I’ll spare all your lives.”
The demons thought it was hysterical—which I tried not to take personally—while the two angels remained deadpan. Mishca grabbed my wrist and wrenched me from Falel. “Come closer and we will kill her.”
I tensed as she pulled out a wicked looking blade. The handle glowed an eerie purple and gave off a vibration I felt from head to toe. She jerked me sideways, wrapping an arm under my chin, and rested the blade against my throat. All the air left the room. The blade was warmer than you’d expect metal to be, like it’d been sitting next to a toasty fire—not that it made me feel better. I had no desire to have my throat slit by metal of any temperature.
The tall demon in front chuckled. If he was concerned, it didn’t show. “You will not kill the Pure. You desire her power as much as we do. And we both know you can’t have it unless she gives it to you willingly. To do that, she must be alive.”
Falel stepped in front of us, pulling out his own freaky purple pig sticker. “If it means keeping it from you, we will gladly sacrifice her energy.”
The demon shrugged and took a step back, folding his arms and flashing a smug grin. “Then by all means, proceed.”
I bit down hard in the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out as the blade pierced my skin. A trickle of blood trailed down my neck, and my heart pounded. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. No one moved. Heaven against hell. Evil verses eviler. And me, stuck in the middle of it all. God, if there was one, sure had a f*cked up sense of humor.