Crux’s mouth drops open as he looks at me. “No way,” he declares, running a hand down his face before turning to the others. “She doesn’t know.”
“How is that possible?” Echo asks, his eyes narrowed on me like he’s suddenly trying to catch me in a lie I haven’t even voiced.
“Miss Gates,” Iceman begins carefully, his icy blue eyes watching me. “You’re a demon. And a powerful one at that. You do know this, don’t you?”
I open my mouth, but Jerif cuts me off before I can speak. “And no, before you say it, this isn’t some weird, kinky sex term,” he says with irritation.
My mouth clamps shut. Okay...I am in way over my head here.
So I do what any sane woman would do when someone tells you you’re a demon. I faint.
6
I don’t actually faint. Mostly because I have no idea how to do that on cue, but I do slump over in my chair and try to make my eyes roll to the back of my head before dramatically falling down.
The way I see it, I have very few options here. There’s one of me and four of them. I could try to fight them, I guess, but even with my scary Swiss Army walking stick, I don’t think I could take them. So really, the only thing I can do is get the fuck out of here. Nothing clears the room like a fainting female. I expect that the guys will freak out and scatter, and I can make my great escape.
I go down like some Gone with the Wind reject, and I give no fucks about how melodramatic it looks, because hello, I’ve stumbled onto some satanic sex cult, and I haven’t the slightest clue how else I’m going to get myself out of this other than to run.
If I were a smarter fake-fainter, I would’ve leaned back in the chair. But because I’ve never tried this trick before, I tip forward where I’m almost guaranteed to smash my face on something before I go all the way down. But there’s no going back now. Literally. So I just have to go with it.
Someone catches me though, which under other circumstances, I would be grateful for, but now all I can think is that some mentally unhinged sex cult member is holding me in his arms, and there’s no chance in hell that’s a good thing. Besides, I want him to put me down so I can run away. This plan doesn’t work if I’m going to be clutched like a baby bird who fell out of its nest. Let me fly free, fucker.
“What in Hell’s Center just happened?” Iceman-Rafferty asks.
“I think she...fainted?” Crux supplies, and I realize that the surfer dude is the one who caught me.
“Huh. I thought Inner Ringed demons were made of more grit and fortitude. She just wilted like some useless flower,” Echo says.
I bristle a little. Flowers aren’t useless. And if they could just leave me the fuck alone for five minutes, I could show his ass just how much grit and fortitude I have by scaling this stupid fucking mansion and escaping.
“Well, what do we do with her now?” Jerif asks, his tone insinuating that he’s looking at me like something he finds distasteful. It’s still not enough to make me open my eyes though.
“Should we wake her up?” Crux asks in a non-quiet whisper, his arms tightening around me.
Dammit, why does he have to smell so good? I expected he’d have a briney, ocean-kissed scent, but he smells like bright summer days with an undertone of warm campfire nights. Demonic sex cultists should not smell this comforting.
“I don’t actually think she passed out. She’s squinting her eyes too hard for her to be unconscious,” Iceman reveals, his voice sounding closer.
That little tidbit of information causes everyone to go silent, and my body tenses. Fuck you, squinting eyes! Totally blew my cover.
“Delta, can you hear me?” Crux asks, and I can tell he’s leaned closer, because I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. It plays with me in ways that I’m determined to ignore for the moment.
I shake my head no, and someone chuckles. The rumble of it dances around the room, and I find that I want to make them laugh again.
“Open your eyes, Warrior Princess,” Lava-Jerif snarks, his tone making it clear that he doesn’t think I’m a warrior princess at all.
I shake my head again. “Nope, I’m good. Utter blackness is working way better for me than whatever you four have going on. In here...” I say, pointing to my head, “this is all still some innocent pre-Halloween party run by anal special-effects aficionados. I am Xena, and demon porn is not my jam,” I murmur.
Another chuckle rumbles out, this time by Crux. “Up you go, Delta,” he says, lifting me onto my feet so my body is forced to hold my own weight again.
I peel one eye open and then the other, looking around warily. They all back up to give me some space, and I stare at each of them in turn. I mean, I really take them in, trying to see through the assumptions, and reality cuts through my racing thoughts.
Demons.
What if they’re not delusional? What if this isn’t some sex thing?
I shift on my feet, and the stupid leather of my uniform squeaks loudly. I see Echo’s lips twitch, and I send him a scowl. “You don’t get to make fun of the squeak. This is your uniform,” I point out.
I quickly snatch up the scythe from the floor, just in case I need to use it to defend myself. I don’t care that their combined muscles are larger than my debt. I will scythe the shit out of them if they come at me.
“Alright,” I say, tossing my sweaty purple hair away from my face. Useless ponytail. It’s like I didn’t even try to
