Red Blooded
Page 16

Everything around this place was cold and slippery in the strangest way.
I moved my back in a circle and it slid against the wall like the surface was made of butter. I turned and placed my fingertips against it. What do you think it’s made of? My wolf ignored me in favor of keeping her eye on the demoness. Well, it’s not made from any material we have at home, that’s for sure. There’s no residue, but it feels organic, not artificial.
The demoness made a noise and I turned quickly, watching as she brought her head up. Her features from the front were pristine, very sculpted and angular. She had a long, slim neck and her skin was shiny like the Prince of Hell’s, but there was a marked difference.
She appeared to be more human somehow.
Moaning and in obvious pain, she turned toward me and met my gaze straight on. Good grief, she’s beautiful. My wolf snarled. She was gorgeous in a foreign way—as in, I knew she was beautiful, but I couldn’t explain why.
I extended my power outward, trying to get a better read on her signature.
“Your power feels demonic,” she said as her eyes on mine. “That is very peculiar.”
Her power was heady and strong, but again, different from the Prince’s. “I’m assuming you’re a demoness. Are you glamoured?” I asked, ignoring her comment about my signature. I had to figure out a way to make this work between us—demoness and wolf—if that was even possible.
She chuckled. Her eyes were arresting. They slanted upward at the outer corners and her pupils weren’t full serpentine slits like I’d glimpsed when the Prince of Hell’s glamour failed. They were more like cat eyes, with a wide oval pupil surrounded by a sea of brilliant sapphire. “I am a demoness and I am not glamoured.”
I raised my eyebrows, not sure whether to believe her. “I saw the demons above. They were all glamoured. And I know a demon’s true nature is not human. Why would the demons here choose to look human in their own world?”
“All demons are required to be glamoured at all times and have been for nearly three hundred years.”
“Why?”
She shrugged as she braced herself to stand, using the wall to aid her. Once she was up, she began to rearrange herself as best she could. Her latex jumpsuit had been severely damaged from whatever blow she’d been dealt. She came forward, stopping at the dresser to open a drawer. “They are glamoured because the Prince deemed it so. A demon’s natural appearance is unrefined by nature and with glamour we can become anything we want. The Prince has chosen to have our race represent itself in a pleasing manner, and what you glimpsed above is what he’s chosen.”
“But you said you weren’t glamoured,” I pointed out as I stood, eyeing her from head to toe as she grabbed a new outfit and paced to a small utilitarian bed covered in a single gray blanket—which appeared, unsurprisingly, to be made of a strange shimmery material. “You’re not a full demoness, are you?”
She glanced at me over her shoulder, her eyes narrowing, her oval pupil thinning, making the entire eye appear blue. “You are an extremely curious creature, aren’t you?”
“It’s not hard to deduce. You speak perfect English,” I said, turning away to give her privacy as she disrobed. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I noted her spine looked sharper than any human’s, signifying she was at least half demon. My guess was that the other half was something supernatural, not human.
I strode out from behind the dresser, still keeping my head bowed, running my hands along the top as I passed. I absentmindedly brought my fingertips together to see if they were sticky. They weren’t. “You can’t be an imp, though, because your power signature is too strong. So I’m guessing the other half is supe, something from my world, judging by your accent. And because of your striking beauty, my next guess would be nymph or pixie. That’s why glamour is unnecessary for you.” Not that I’d ever seen a real live nymph or pixie, but that sounded like a good theory based on pictures I’d seen. Nymphs were usually drop-dead gorgeous and had strong abilities in the seduction area.
She turned to face me, zipping up her new, exactly-the-same-as-before latex jumpsuit. “I’m no nymph. But what I am is not important; escaping this place is.”
By her dismissive tone, she wasn’t ready to give me any more than that right now. I glanced around the room. We were in a fifteen-foot-square space. Other than a dresser and the bed, there was no furniture. The floor was tiled in large squares. “How did I pass through the curtain so easily? I didn’t feel a ward.”
“It is coded to me alone. All others can pass through.”
“Why?”
Her pupils pulsed. Like a small heartbeat in the middle of her eye. I’d have to watch for that. “Because I am dangerous.”
She said it so matter-of-factly, it sounded like she was telling me she enjoyed afternoon tea. “You don’t say.” I walked toward the curtain and she followed behind. “So you’re telling me I can just walk back out the way I came and you can’t follow me?”
“That is correct.” She stopped shoulder to shoulder with me as I peered out at possible freedom that didn’t include promising anything to this creature. “But I wouldn’t advise it. As I said before, I am your only hope of escape. I was not telling an untruth.”
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “What did they do to you when they blasted you into the wall?”
“They hit me squarely in the chest with the equivalent of a bazooka in your world.”
My eyebrows lifted. “And why did they do that?”
She turned her body, addressing me directly. “Because I told them to fuck off.”
“How come they left so quickly? All they had to do was search the room. I was crouched behind the only cover in the entire cube.” I nodded behind me at the dresser. “It wouldn’t exactly be hard to sleuth me out.”
She shrugged. “Because I would have killed them if they had tried.”
This time I openly gaped. “So what you’re telling me is, I stumbled into the only cell in all the Underworld that holds the only prisoner who will be able to keep me safe? Or maybe I’m wrong and every prisoner is just like you?”
Her arm swept out in front of her as she gestured to the curtain. “You are welcome to go find out. I’ll wait for you over here.” She turned and strode to the bed. Once there, she lay down, clasping her hands under her head like she didn’t have a care in the Underworld. “Of course, it’ll be a long wait if the chupacabras find you first. But if you happen to get past the beasts, and the guards, and get to the next prisoner, they may toy with you for a while, depending on whom you stumble upon, but likely not before they rat you out. It’s very easy for us to summon the guards. They have buttons all over the—”