Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle) (6 page)

Dante nodded. “I understand, but I have a portal in the back of this place. You can get in through there.”

Ambrose’s eyes widened. What kind of secrets did this dragon have? Did he really want to know the answer to that?

“I can also help you cloak yourself,” Dante continued.

“How can you do that?”

Dante handed him a gold medallion that was engraved with some kind of writing that Ambrose couldn’t decipher. Which was strange itself since Ambrose could speak most languages, dead and alive.

“Wear this around your neck at all times and no one will be able to tell you’re an angel unless they fight you and smell your blood,” Dante explained.

“Where the hell did you get this?” He winced at his bad pun.

Dante lifted a pierced eyebrow. “In hell, where else? Just wear it and try not to kill too many demons on your way. Also, you say it was Pyro who took her?”

Ambrose nodded. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Good, he needs killing. His son, Balin, could be an ally, if he’s still alive.” A shadow passed over his face, and Ambrose blinked.

“An ally?”

“Balin doesn’t take souls, but Pyro has locked him up for so long he’s been unable to come to the human realm to find his true half.”

“So his body is dying because he doesn’t take souls. Why didn’t you help him get out if you knew him?”

“I tried.” Dante’s eyes whitened again before he shook his head.

“So Balin is his son, so he might know where Jamie is.” It was a start at least.

Dante nodded. “Yes, and knowing Balin, he’s probably already trying to help her. Though his three hundredth birthday is coming up within days, Ambrose. You know what that means.” The dragon leveled his gaze at him. 

“He’s out of time.” Sadness washed through him for a demon he had never met. “I’ll help him if I can, Dante, but Jamie is my first concern.” 

For always.

“Understood.” Dante led him to a doorway in the back of the building and gestured toward it. “You have weapons in your cache?”

“Of course, as well as a first aid kit and other things that Jamie may need. I’m ready.” Anticipation thrummed through him at the thought of what was to come. It wouldn’t be an easy journey, but Jamie was more important than the pain he might endure.

“Good. The portal will lead you to the south end of the territory east of Pyro’s compound. You probably have a good six-hour hike to Pyro’s. That is, of course, if you don’t meet any enemies along the way, and we both know the likelihood of that.”

Ambrose nodded and pulled his sword from his cache. “I’m ready. Let the others know where I am.”

Dante held his arm out, and Ambrose grasped it in a warrior’s handshake. “Of course. May you find Jamie and get out safely. Honor and peace be with you.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Dante’s eyes widened at the use of “friend,” but Ambrose knew it was true. They were all connected through the lightning storm and would fight for each other with every breath. 

Ambrose opened the door and stepped through the portal, bracing himself. The feel of claws raked at him, fire licked its way up his legs and around his back, choking him. With each step, his legs became heavier, his body became drowsier. 

Jamie.

She was his reason for everything.

Jamie.

The heat scorched him, the fires of hell hot with the hatred and pain of eons of generations.

Like the snap of a rubber band, the portal released him, and he crashed to the rocky ground below. The jagged rocks bit into his already sore knees from the glass at Jamie’s apartment, but he stood quickly, armed and ready.

The depths of hell resembled a barren dessert. The flowing rivers of lava changed at a moment’s notice, catching an unexpected intruder without care.

Ambrose was in hell in every sense of the word, but his Jamie was out there.

He had no choice. He’d die for her. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.

Chapter 5

Jamie cracked open her eyes and held back a whimper. Oh, God, her body ached something fierce. She tried to move, but something held her in place. Her neck strained as she looked up, and tears slid from her eyes.

Someone had shackled her to a wall so she sat with her legs free, but nowhere to go.

Memories of how two men had broken into her home, beaten her, and taken her away assaulted her. Since her arms were raised above her head, she couldn’t check to see what might have been broken, but she rubbed her face against her arm anyway.

Wait, hadn’t her cheekbone been broken?

She distinctly remembered the shocking pain and the urge to throw up when it had happened and when the man had slapped her again.

It was fine and only ached a little bit.

Had she imagined it?

No, she didn’t think so because she’d never felt that kind of pain before. She knew some supernaturals had healing powers, and Ambrose had once healed her because of the connection they shared—or could have shared—but she didn’t have a clue how she’d been healed.

From the sight of the dungeon, or wherever the hell she was, she was certain Ambrose hadn’t been there to heal her.

Chains dangled from various heights on the walls and ceiling. Dried blood and something else—Jamie didn’t want to even contemplate what that could be—dotted the floors and splashed the walls. Tables with manacles, chains, and other instruments stood in the center of the room, and each had a side table of knives, blades, what looked to be a blow torch, and other things that Jamie wasn’t sure the purpose of.

Bile rose in her throat.

A torture chamber. She was in a torture chamber and too weak and human to get out. For a moment, anger spread through her at the thought that that wouldn’t be the case if she’d been a supernatural. If Ambrose hadn’t run away and if she’d completed the change.

There was no use thinking in “ifs” at the moment. She was surely and dearly screwed. 

From what she could see, there was one door for the entire room. If she had a chance to escape, that would be where she’d go. Who knew what was on the other side of it and who would be there? She had no idea who had her and where she was. For all she knew, she could be in another realm.

Jamie gulped then rested her head back on the wall behind her. Ever since the lightning strike, her world had been torn apart and pieced together in a kaleidoscope of supernaturals. Nothing was the same anymore. Everything was bigger, more dangerous, and constantly put her at the bottom of the food chain. She was human—at least for now, and it didn’t look like anything was about to change on that front—meaning she could only fight as hard as she could as a human woman.

Not good enough. 

The tears tasted salty on her too-dry lips, and she tried to control herself. She’d read enough books in her life to know that freaking out and pitying herself wouldn’t accomplish anything. She pulled at her chains and only managed to hurt her wrists.

Unless someone came in and let her go, she was truly stuck.

Well, hell.

Jamie closed her eyes and thought of Ambrose. He’d come for her, right? Or, maybe Shade or Dante would. They were strong and had powers that none of her friends had. Lily might have been a brownie and had enough strength and power to help others, but she was pregnant, and Jamie hoped to God Shade didn’t let Lily out of sight.

Wait, what if her friends were here too? Dear Lord, how selfish could she be? She had no idea why they’d taken her. For all she knew, all her friends were in similar cells, chained to walls and bleeding out.

She pulled at her chains again and cursed when she only managed to bang herself on the head with the metal.

“If you keep doing that, girl, you’ll just make it worse for yourself,” a voice said from the doorway.

Jamie froze but didn’t sink into herself. She didn’t want to show the fear that strangled her. A man with red eyes and black horns that followed the curve of his head stepped into the room, a menacing smile on his face.

Red eyes and horns.

Definitely not human then.

Though she and her friends had studied up on most of the supernaturals in existence, and had even met a few since she’d found out about the things that went bump in the night, she’d never seen one like this.

She knew what it was from the texts she’d read.

A demon.

There was no way out of this.

Most demons, like ninety percent, ate souls and liked to kill their prey slowly. And, by the look on this one’s face, she was pretty sure he fell in the majority category.

Must not show fear
.

Jamie raised her chin and glared at the demon, even though inside she wanted to crawl into a ball and call for her mommy. Either way would have left her in the same situation, but this way, she at least had her pride…whatever shreds she had left.

“Do you know where you are, Jamie dear?” the demon asked as he walked toward her. He knelt so he was eye level and traced a finger down her newly healed cheek.

Despite herself, she shuddered at the touch. 

“Who are you?” she asked. Didn’t all the books say to keep your captor talking so he didn’t kill you so quickly?

“I guess you don’t know where you are.” He traced his finger along her lower lip, and she resisted the urge to bite him since he could probably kill her with his pinky. “I’ll tell you anyway. It’s more fun when humans know the dangers that I’ve put them in, don’t you think?”

Jamie didn’t think he actually wanted an answer to his question, nor did she particularly want the answer herself.

“I’ve brought you to hell, doll. I think you know what I am, don’t you?”

Hell.

She was in fucking hell.

Literally and figuratively.

Jamie gave the demon a slight nod, her eyes wide.

“Good, I knew there was more to you than just being Ambrose’s bitch.”

He knew Ambrose. Did that mean the angel had something to do with this, or did all angels and demons have vendettas against each other? Her thoughts swam as she tried to come up with a reason he would bring her here.

Did it matter?

The demon held the upper hand.

She was only human after all.

“I’m Pyro, by the way.”

Pyro? He sounded like a comic book bad guy, not a demon who held her life in his hand. Jamie held her tongue though so she didn’t anger him. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to her if he were truly angry.

First, she had to find something out.

“Why did you take me?”
And, do you have my friends
? She kept that to herself because she didn’t want to call attention to them, just in case. 

“Didn’t you hear me? You’re Ambrose’s. Anything of his I can take—or maim and kill—is a plus for me. Oh, and when he comes for you, and he will because rumor is he’s your true half, he’ll die, as well. And, if he doesn’t come because he’s a fucking coward, then he’ll want to die anyway because he let you die. I win either way.”

It didn’t sound as if he had her friends as well, but, oh, God, he couldn’t kill Ambrose. Not that she particularly wanted to die, but she
really
didn’t want Ambrose to die. Though the angel hadn’t wanted her, she didn’t wish him harm.

“I see from your reaction that you knew he was your true half,” Pyro said as he walked to one of the tables and picked up a blade, toying with the sharpened edge. 

A shiver of fear ran down her spine.

This was going to hurt.

Badly.

“Did you wonder why he didn’t want you? So did I, honestly. What could be so wrong with you that he’d forgo a lifelong romance with someone who completes him?” Pyro rolled his eyes at that. “It sounds like a romance novel. One where you don’t get your happy ending, dear Jamie.”

Ambrose would come for her…but did she want him to? From what she remembered in her reading, angels didn’t live very long in the hell realm because of the immense hatred between the two factions. Though Ambrose was a warrior and strong, that didn’t mean he could survive in a fight against an entire species.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, then mentally slapped herself. Why had she asked that? Did she really want to know what a demon who’d locked her in a torture chamber wanted to do to her?

Pyro threw his head back and laughed. “Oh honey, I’m so glad you asked that. You see, I had plans to have your body in every way possible before I threw you to the other demons so they could have their share. Because of certain…events, I’ve been forced to change those plans. No matter, you’re not my type anyway. I prefer my woman to handle it a little harder. You, my dear, look like you could break with the slightest pressure—even though that sounds like a treat to me too. What I am going to do is cut into you a bit so I can taste the blood in your veins. Because we both know, dear, there’s something different about you, isn’t there? I want to see if I can taste what you are before I give you to the gladiator games and watch a demon tear you into pieces. They may or may not have their way with your body beforehand as well. It depends on their mood. What do you think of my plans? Sound good to you?” Pyro smiled and walked toward her, malicious intent in his gaze.

Jamie couldn’t help it anymore and threw up beside her chains, her stomach revolting at the thought of what was to come and how helpless she was to fight against it. She would fight. She couldn’t go down complacent; it wasn’t in her.

Pyro released her from her chains, and she instinctively struggled, trying to get her feet on the ground so she could run.

Come on, do it, run. Find a way out
.

She got one foot on the ground, and Pyro gripped her by the arms, throwing her into the wall. Her head slammed against the cement with a deafening
thump
, and she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t pass out from the dizziness. Jamie twisted in his hold, trying to break free, but he was too strong, and she was too…human.

“Oh, I like the fight in you, Jamie, but stop it before you hurt yourself. I want you awake when I cut into you.”

Jamie bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry. She had to be strong, but she wasn’t an idiot either. The more she fought, the harder he held, and as it was, his hands around her arms were cutting in deep, bound to leave bruises. She’d find a way out of there. He would only cut her a little, right? And, then they’d leave the room, and she’d have a better chance.