Demon from the Dark

saw that a collar like hers ringed his neck. A slave collar. He gripped it in two fists, yanking with all his strength. Nothing. It budged not one inch.

She'd turned him into a slave once more....

'I will kill you, witch!' he bellowed. Could she hear him? Was she near? He sensed that she was, just as he had that first night in Oblivion when she'd concealed herself from him.

It didn't matter where she was; he would pursue her to the ends of this world and any others.

He rose unsteadily on his injured legs, barely able to limp to the wall of glass that kept him jailed. Other creatures from a number of factions were imprisoned behind similar transparent walls, eyeing him warily.

When he pounded the glass with his fists, a male murmured from a distance, 'One more hit against that wall, vemon, and you'll be breathing poisoned air.' He sounded amused, his accent reminding Malkom of the vampires'. 'The mortals diffuse it from the ceiling.'

The mortals—the same order of soldiers that had come to his world repeatedly.

What did they want from him? Why had they sent Carrow to Oblivion to lure him out?

Their trap had worked so well. Malkom had wanted what she'd offered so damned badly. Everything between him and the witch over the last week—the best of his life—had been part of yet another betrayal.

At the portal opening, she'd behaved as if she regretted deceiving him, but nothing she said or did could be trusted. She'd also told him they'd be bound forever. And he'd stupidly believed her. When would he learn? If you believe, then you invite misery.

Malkom had been born just to be punished.

Just not by her. He roared to the ceiling again, his eyes going wet with loss. I would relive all those treacheries to take this one back.

On the heels of that gut-wrenching feeling of loss, fury set in, a wrath demanding to be appeased. He was born to be the punisher as well. Malkom had meted out retribution to anyone who'd betrayed him.

Carrow would fare no differently. He would determine a way to get free, then hunt her down.

Malkom had turned on Kallen, whom he'd loved as a brother. The witch would pay a thousand times over.

Those who betray me do it only once.

Chapter 28

Screams echoed off the cell walls—captives' shrieks of madness, frustration, and impotent rage.

I'll be joining them soon, Carrow thought darkly. Nearly another week trapped here. How much longer could they continue?

She'd never minded jail before. Because there'd always been an end in sight. Now her guilt over what she'd done to Malkom ate at her. She hadn't heard anything about him, or from him, in days.

And something was coming down the pipeline. Her senses were on red alert. She couldn't rest, couldn't eat the mortals' gruel. The hum from the lights above—so slight for humans—was beginning to sound like a swarm of killer bees to Carrow.

Any plan she devised to escape depended on leaving the cell. Yet not one of them had been allowed outside of it.

Only two things broke up the monotony: finding out gossip from the inmates and watching the traffic in the ward. Again and again, Carrow's friends and allies were led away, only to return different.

She and Lanthe tried to shield Ruby from the sight, shoving her behind the metal screen, but the girl refused to mind Carrow, always peering out.

That child was going to need so much therapy.

Now Carrow and Lanthe were sitting in their customary spot against the wall. It was night—they thought— and a storm was building outside, a dull drum on the roof. Ruby sang and played imaginary hopscotch, while the other two Sorceri lay on their bottom bunk, facing each other, whispering and laughing.

Carrow glared over at them together, not buying the whole lovers-for-centuries thing. Being in a relationship that long took a lot of commitment, and she just didn't see either of those Sorceri taking the plunge.

Plus, Carrow would be insanely jealous if it were true. Her eyes watered. I could've had something like that with Malkom. Hundreds of years of loving each other...

'Carrow?' Lanthe said.

'Huh? Got something in my eye. So what's on the inmate grapevine today?'

Yesterday they'd heard in whispers that Chase and his superior were still butting heads about the overcrowding here. Chase pushed to have all the immortals destroyed, not studied, not weaponized. But so far, he hadn't gotten his way.

And there was talk that the Sorceri species was the next rotation to be examined.

Lanthe answered, 'Evidently the Order is now infecting beings to make ghouls, hundreds of them. If those creatures escape ...'

'If they escape? Try when! Two things that can never be contained? Velociraptors and zombies.'

Lanthe tilted her head at her. 'It's enough to put one on edge, I suppose.'

Carrow knew she was on the verge of losing it, especially since Malkom had gone quiet.

At first, he'd been roaring constantly, even bellowing in English, his vocabulary improving hourly. He'd banged on the walls until the entire building had seemed to shake. He'd been sedated repeatedly, only to wake up more enraged.

Until one morning, he'd grown silent. It'd been even worse for Carrow when his bellows had died down.

Added to this, Ruby was now singing They Might Be Giants' 'Particle Man.' Over and over. Carrow had taught her to sing it on repeat to annoy others—not herself. She muttered to the ceiling, 'Amanda, I never knew.'

'Particle Man, Particle Man, doing the things a particle can.'

Between gritted teeth, she said, 'Ruby, stop singing.'

She pouted, flouncing to the foot of the Sorceri's bunk. 'You said we were going home!' She reminded Carrow of that constantly.

Emberine rose and tsked. 'Carrow is mean, isn't she?'

Carrow no longer tried to keep Ruby separated from the Sorceri. Because of their being trapped in a ten- by-ten-foot cell together and all. The two were continually slinking around Ruby, gazing at her with interest, tilting their heads at the girl as if they couldn't quite place something about her.

'You've been sharp with her,' Lanthe murmured.

Carrow hissed back, 'Don't you feel the tension?'

'From you.'

'You're the one who told me to be firmer with her.'

'Particle Man, Particle Man—'

Carrow leapt to her feet. 'Ruby, damn it! I said no.'

Lanthe yanked her to the other side of the cell, muttering, 'Gods, Carrow, why didn't you just snap, 'Mummy has a headache! Go fetch Mummy's scotch!'?'

Ember cried, 'Hide the wire hangers!'

Ruby asked, 'Why hide the wire hangers?'

Portia patted her head. 'May you never find out.'

'I told her not to sing, and she's still doing it'—Carrow leaned around Lanthe to glare at Ruby—'just to annoy me.'

'Of course, that's it,' Lanthe said. 'Not because she's seven, with no toys or anything else to occupy her. Think about it—the high point of our day is when they drag by victims.'