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“Eat,” he demanded.
I struggled into a sitting position and surveyed the glob of unrecognizable mush, some kind of meat, a piece of hard bread, and a cup of water. “I’d rather starve.”
A snarl pulled at his lips, revealing jagged teeth. “I suggest you eat, girl. You’re going to need your strength.”
“Why’s that? So Karn can torture me more?” Or was the food part of the torment? Maybe it was poisoned.
His laugh boomed within my cell, clashing against my already throbbing head. “There’s a party tonight. And you’re the entertainment.”
* * *
The thick manaclesrubbed my wrists raw as the guard dressed in all black with daggers and a leather whip strapped to his waist jerked me up a narrow flight of endless stone steps. His citrine eyes glowed through the dim light while his horns created ominous shadows along the walls.
My breath came out in ragged pants by the time we reached a door at the landing. Maybe I should have eaten more food, but I could only stomach the water and stale bread. I didn’t want to take my chances on the meat. It could be human.
“Where are you taking me?” I wheezed.
The demon ignored me and used a key to unlock the door before dragging me through. After several turns within an elaborate maze of hallways, the familiar garish red, black, and white decor of Karn’s mansion in Vlehull emerged.
I choked back the rising panic as we trekked down another hallway. Voices and music filled the air along with food and alcohol. The guard shoved me through a set of double doors, and we entered the grand room packed with demons lining the edges of the ground floor and the second-story balcony. Their attention snapped to me, eager and salivating for my death or torture. Probably both.
Karn lounged in his throne of bone, metal, and crushed red velvet on the other side of the room, his glamour intact so he appeared as the young, handsome blond with striking cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. A beautiful witch with honey hair and a milky complexion sat next to him in a lavender dress of lace and cobwebs.
He lifted his hand to quiet the crowd. “Our guest of honor has arrived.”
The guard pushed me forward, and I stumbled, catching my balance at the last second so I didn’t slam into the black and white tiles. The demons, some dressed in finery again while others wore leather or ripped jeans, sipped cocktails and waited as anticipation choked the room.
A million painful and humiliating scenarios played out in my head, ending with my demise. What exactly did the demon lord intend to do, and why the public scene?
“You have such terrible memories, Tatum Teague.” Karn drank from his silver, jewel-incrusted goblet. “You were a vicious fighter, a bloodthirsty creature. You’d fit right into my inner circle if you shed all that wretched humanity.”
I tugged at the manacles binding my wrists in front of me. “I’d rather be tortured than belong to your inner circle.”
Gasps echoed through the grand room, and some of the demons howled at my insult, but Karn wasn’t bothered.
He gave a sinister chuckle. “We’ll see about that, Tatum.”
The doors on the other end of the room opened, and a tall guard in the same tight black attire with weapons strapped to his body escorted in a male and female around my age or slightly older. Their jeans and black shirts were clean, and chains didn’t bind either of them, but they were still prisoners.
And human.
“As entertainment tonight, you will fight these two.” Karn motioned for my guard to release the restraints on my wrists. “Don’t worry. Kalis performed The Calling spell and gave them the same speed and strength as a raven. Since you’re special, I thought you could handle two.”
Just because they were given superpowers didn’t mean they knew how to use them. I’d been trained, and I was a fighter even before that. “I won’t do it.”
The guard roughly grabbed my hands and used a small key to unlock the manacles. I rubbed my wrists while considering my chances of escape. Demons surrounded me. My chances of escape were nonexistent.
As if Karn saw my hope disintegrating, he gave an ominous grin. “I suppose you don’t have to fight back, but Arisa and Oliver will certainly not forfeit.” He motioned to the male whose copper locks curled around his hard, scowling face. “If they beat you, they will be taken back to Earth and set free.”
Arisa stood several inches taller than me with wild, black curls that reminded me too much of Jayla’s. Lean muscle wrapped her frame, and the overhead chandelier glinted on a few scars mottling her arms bared in the black tank top. She was no stranger to fighting either.
The black t-shirt Oliver wore strained against his broad shoulders and then loosened around his trim waist. His fists clenched and unclenched as he mentally prepared for the battle ahead. Even though he had a muscular build, he showed signs of malnutrition.
Both had that haunted look in their eyes.
I knew that look very well.
How long had they been in captivity? What kind of horrors had they experienced in Karn’s dungeon?
