Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle) (12 page)

Fear clawed at her belly at his words, but she kept moving, Balin, Ambrose, and Hunter behind her, held at sword point by the guards who had lived.

They would have won the battle and escaped if she hadn’t been caught off guard…if she hadn’t been weak. She was sure of it.

Refusing to allow self-pity to take over and drown her, she held her chin high, wincing as her neck burned from what must have been only a small cut or she’d be dead.

They made their way through the dungeon halls, the demons and other species in cages, cat calling and worse from their cells. Most would be dead soon if what Hunter said was true about the survival rate of those in the games.

The games weren’t played to see who lived, but rather to see how they could die.

She didn’t want that to be her.

Finally, they entered a large hall where five demons, each with various colored and shaped horns sprouting from their heads, sat on large thrones. Two were dressed in long robes, while the other three wore leather pants and chains that adorned their thick chests.

“I see you’ve brought us the human…and her friends,” one of the ones in leather said, his voice deep and slick with something that made her want to run away.

“I’m Fury, the leader of this council,” he continued. “Bring me the wolf.”

The guards kicked the back of Hunter’s knees, and she held back a gasp as they dragged him toward the center of the room. 

“You have been our prized fighter for long enough to know an escape attempt means death,” Fury said, his voice calm.

No, they couldn’t kill Hunter because of her. 

“I think I’d rather see you die at the hands of a demon weaker than yourself. First, though, we need to make sure that happens.” With a nod, the guards beat Hunter with their fists and feet. The sound of each punch and kick echoed off the tall walls and brought bile to her mouth.

Hunter fell to his knees, and his eyes narrowed in pain as they beat him. One of them kicked him in the head, and Hunter let out a small grunt—the first sound he’d made. He let them beat him, but his eyes remained the same determined, animalistic yellow they always were.

Oh, God, they had to stop this.

Finally, after the blood flowed from a gash on his side and face, the largest of the guards moved forward and stepped on Hunter’s face. Jamie gasped at the crunch of her new friend’s nose breaking.

Her body shook as fear and revulsion warred within her. She wanted to go to his side and help, but she knew it was no use. She’d already caused this and didn’t want to cause anyone any more pain.

She had a feeling it was only the beginning though.

They dragged Hunter’s unconscious body away, and she feared it might be the last time she’d see him.

She risked a look at Ambrose, who stood tall, his face expressionless. He was an angel in a demon world. His presence alone might start a war. He’d risked it all for her.

She wasn’t worthy.

Damn it, she’d make herself worth it. 

Somehow.

She’d repay them all.

Another demon came from the shadows, a smile on his face, and she held back a curse.

Pyro.

“Ah, I see my son has found a way to disgrace the Drake name once again,” Pyro stated as he took his seat on the empty sixth throne. 

“I see you’re as much of a bastard as usual, father,” Balin drawled, his arms behind his back, but not tied—yet.

“I’m going to enjoy seeing you wither away and die,” Pyro spat. “Not before you watch the one who was to be yours die after they rape and beat her.”

Balin growled, and her body shook at Pyro’s words. The picture the evil man painted made her want to either kick his ass or hide in a hole. Either way, she had to do something. She had to live.

“Pyro, enough,” Fury said, his voice cool. “Jamie Bennett. You were sold to the games and do not have a choice. We, the council, own you as well, and you will do as you’re told. You will fight at the midnight games as planned and will die. You will bring in more money in a fight than just by our blades now. They’ll want you for more than death.”

She swallowed hard at his words but didn’t say anything. She’d already known what they’d planned, but hearing it didn’t make her feel any better.

“Your life is forfeit.”

“You cannot own a human who has done nothing,” Ambrose said, his voice low, controlled.

“Ah, but we can. She’s a token of war,” Fury explained.

“There is no war,” Balin called out.

“As soon as this angel stepped foot on our land, he caused one. Now, we can overlook it and use Jamie as our draw. Or we can fight and kill other angels. The choice is yours.” Fury smirked, and Jamie felt the cold seep into her bones.

She risked the demons’ wrath and turned to Ambrose. “He’s lying. He’s just saying that to hurt you. He would have found a way to do what he’s doing whether you came to hell or not.”

The weight of countless years and decisions seemed to pass over Ambrose’s face, but he didn’t say anything to her. He merely turned and nodded toward the council. 

“And if I fight in her stead?”

“No! You can’t do that,” she yelled, and his look cut her off.

Fury laughed. “Oh, that would be nice. We might just use you for a fight. After all, an angel in the demon games is almost unheard of. Alas, we want the human to die painfully before that. Then Balin will waste away because he isn’t demon enough to lick the shit off my boots. Then, because I know these two deaths will pain you… then I might let you die.”

Pyro laughed along with Fury, and Jamie wanted to scream. 

They were just bullies who didn’t deserve to live.

She held no power—something she would have to fix.

Soon.

Both Ambrose and Balin stepped forward, the anger they’d been holding back slipping through their masks. Fearful they’d do something stupid and die before they found a way out, she moved quickly to place her hands on both their backs.

These two men—these two large, angry men—stopped moving forward for her, their chests heaving, their fists clenched.

Fury and the other demons threw their heads back and laughed.

“Oh, that’s rich. A little female human holding back the fiercest angels of them all and a demon who used to be fierce.” Fury wiped a tear from his eye as he spoke. He nodded toward the other guards. “Send them to the melee cell. Let’s see how well they do with that little strumpet and the other demons who could watch them. They aren’t going to want to stand by and watch the other demons fawn over her and try to take her down for their pleasure.”

She didn’t know what he was talking about, but it couldn’t be good. Before she could do anything, one of the guards gripped her arm in a bruising hold and pulled her toward the door. 

Balin glared, the heat and fury in his gaze threatening to erupt and take over. Ambrose merely gave his stony expression, but she could see the calculating look in his gaze.

Maybe he had a plan.

Oh, God, they needed one.

She’d only just found out she could have a future…she didn’t want to lose it.

Not like this.

****

Pyro slammed the door to his house shut and laughed. He bent over at the waist, his ribs hurting from his own laughter, but he couldn’t help it.

Oh, this was working out much better than he’d thought it would.

That little bitch would die. Hopefully, in such pain she’d beg for death long before they gave it to her. The demons she would face rumbled that they wanted her pussy more than her death since it had been so long, and he smiled.

Yes, that would be good.

His son would finally be off his list of shit to deal with. Yes, he should have felt something for the fruit of his very virile loins, but he couldn’t give a fuck. Balin had betrayed him and his own race. Now the little bastard would watch his true half or—if Pyro was correct—part of his triad die.

Then Balin would die.

Slowly.

And, then the cream on his cake. Ambrose. He’d never thought he’d be so lucky as to have the fucking angel actually show up in hell, let alone within the walls of the games.

Fury had said there would be no war if Jamie died, but that was most likely a ruse. The council hadn’t voted yet, and most here were ready for a fight. It had been too long since they’d spilled angel blood.

Much too long.

Ambrose would watch his Jamie and Balin die, and Pyro would rejoice.

After all, Jamie was just a human and held no power.

That is, no power yet. Unless Ambrose and Balin had figured out how to unlock it. Then he hadn’t heard any rumblings on precisely how that would happen. After all, only one of the seven women who had been lightning struck had turned.

Pyro shrugged it off. The three had lost the window of opportunity and would die soon.

This would be a great day. He deserved to celebrate. With a flick of his wrist, he opened the door to one of his special cells and smiled at the small male he’d taken from the panther clan years ago.

“Hello, my sweet. It looks like your time’s up.”

He took his time, smiling as he sliced him up, and when the last bit of blood spilled from the male’s neck, and, with it, his life, Pyro smiled.

Yes, he would win.

He was a demon after all. It was his turn.

Chapter 9

Balin cursed as the fucker behind him pushed him into the small cell. The stench of dead bodies, rot, sweat, and who knew what else filled his nostrils, and he tried to breathe through his mouth. However, the stink coated his tongue and pores, seeping into his lungs. He didn’t think even a thousand showers would get rid of the smell.

He cursed as he watched Jamie shake as she had in the council chambers, her skin turning pale. She’d stood strong as the council had determined her fate. Or rather decreed it. Balin was pretty sure Fury had already known what they were going to do with Jamie long before they sent for her. It made him sick to think that he was also a demon.

If—no, when—they got out of the coliseum, Balin wasn’t sure Jamie would even want to look at another demon, let alone the son of the one who’d done this to her.

Everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers faster than he could find a way to stop it.

Balin quickly searched among the other large, bloody, and dangerous occupants of the cell but couldn’t see Hunter. Fuck. He hadn’t wanted the other man to die, not like that. There was still a chance they’d taken Hunter somewhere else and he still lived, but Balin wasn’t too sure.

He wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Not when he knew his father and the rest of the council wanted not only him but those he was growing to care about dead.

They not only wanted death. They wanted pain and suffering before that happened.

Lots and lots of suffering.

He shouldn’t have been too surprised. They were the demons who took their true nature to the core of what made them evil after all.

The other demons and species in the room slowly moved toward them, and Balin growled, his eyes glowing red as he let the anger that he’d tried to hold back in front of his father course through him. He hadn’t wanted to do anything stupid like try to kill Pyro in front of the council, not that he could have because Lucifer’s curse didn’t allow that.

It had been only the touch of Jamie’s small, fragile hand on his back that stopped him and had stopped Ambrose. It should have surprised him that someone as small as her could do that, but it didn’t. She was to be his mate, something he’d desired more than anything his whole life.

He just had to find a way to make it out of hell alive, with her and Ambrose, and hopefully Hunter.

Easier said than done.

The other demons crowded around, their eyes various reds, blacks, and darks. Each had a different set of horns showing what caste they came from, but he didn’t care. They were all in the games for a reason. Either they were truly criminal and deserved it, or they had lost in some form of battle and their vanquishers had sold them.

They were not his friends.

No, considering the way they looked at Jamie as if she were a delectable treat they wanted to taste then eat, he knew he’d have to kill all the bastards.

A wave of exhaustion slapped at him, and he ignored it. He knew he was dying. It wasn’t as if it was a surprise. It still pissed him off to no end that he wasn’t strong enough to protect Jamie.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ambrose shift closer, so Jamie stood behind the angel and himself. The guards had taken all of Balin’s weapons, but they’d been stupid to not realize Ambrose would have more. The angel—who looked damn good, by the way—had his own cache of weapons. Ambrose had even more weapons than most due to his love for his vast collection.

This could work out.

It had to.

“Looks like fresh meat,” one of the other demons growled.

Balin rolled his eyes. “Really? That’s the best you can do? The entire lot of you are supposed to be the first out there, or you wouldn’t be in here ready to tear us limb from limb. You can only come up with ‘looks like fresh meat’? I’m disappointed.”

He thought he heard a snort come from Ambrose, but he wasn’t sure. The angel didn’t seem to smile or laugh, except for that one time that had surprised even Jamie.

Balin would have to change that.

Hades, now he was actually thinking about his future with Ambrose and Jamie as a happy triad. Could that actually become a reality? He hadn’t planned on one mate, let alone two. 

Now, knowing the connection he felt between them watching the way Jamie weakened as the consequences of the lightning attacked her body with more vigor, he knew it was true.

He’d met his mates.

Plural.

He wasn’t about to let them out of his sight. He couldn’t lose them, not now, not when he’d just met them. Great, now he sounded like a whiny ass, but there was no way he was going down without a fight.

Fuck that.

“I would stand back,” Ambrose stated, his voice low, but calm. “You forget that I’m the one with access to weapons, and no amount of brute strength can take that away from me. We mean you no harm, but don’t come near us, or I’ll kill you. Slowly.” The angel did grin at that, but it wasn’t a happy one. No, this one sent icy shivers down Balin’s back, and he for one was happy the warrior was on his side.