“Mistress sent succubi to Andros many times to seduce him, but he resisted. She was very angry. So she sent one looking like Lada, but Andros knew the difference. That made mistress very, very upset.” The smaller demon did the talking while the demon with horns sulked and stayed a good distance from Gaia.
Afanasiv would have known if the demons had tried to pawn someone else off as Vasilisa. Even knowing her for such a short time, he would have known. Lilith could duplicate looks but not the entirety, the whole of what she was. Her scent. Her taste. The expressions flickering across her face. Her laughter. The way she could light up a room. Even worn down, maybe especially in that state, he would know. As did Andros.
The demon continued, shaking her head. “Lilith told us to get Lada to cooperate, or else. She said we were useless to her if we couldn’tget Lada to listen to reason. She had only one simple task, and then she could go home.”
“What was her task?” Gaia asked.
“She was to tell Andros she didn’t love him. That she never did and she wanted to give him back his ring. She was to throw his ring at him and walk away. Lilith thought he would break down, and in that vulnerable moment, she would be able to gain complete control of him.”
“Why does Lilith want to control Andros?”
The little demon shook her head but then looked around and stepped closer to Gaia. “The royals have different blood—maybe they can control the beast.” She whispered the message to the Carpathian woman. “The mistress must have all of the royals’ blood mixed together. The blood Olga gave to the mage this night was not the blood of a royal. Grigor tricked them somehow. They had to throw out the entire experiment because the false blood tainted the royals’ blood.”
“Lilith is making war on these poor women and all the places above just in the hope of controlling the beast? That’s what this is all about?”
The little demon nodded frantically. “She’s in a really foul mood. If you don’t save us, she’ll kill us, Gaia.”
Gaia nodded her head. “Most likely she will. The thing is, Molly, it would be a service to you if I let her. You’re always partnered with Patsy, who loses her temper and does everything wrong. She hurts you. She hurts whoever she’s supposed to be guarding, and she hurts herself. If I keep bailing you out, she’ll keep doing it.”
Patsy snorted and stomped her cloven feet, then dragged them backward as if she were about to charge. She even put her head down in a threatening manner, pointing her sharp horns at Gaia, who rolled her eyes and put her hand up without looking at the horned demon. Patsy froze in place.
“See what I mean, Molly? She has no self-control. This just turns into a vicious cycle. Where is Lada’s man? The royal? Where are they keeping him?”
Molly moved even closer to Gaia. “They took him to the bad place, Gaia. The really bad place.” She shook her head. “He won’t come out of there alive.”
Gaia closed her eyes and bowed her head. “No, most likely he won’t. I’ll heal this woman for you this one time, but only this one time. If this happens again, I’m not going to help either of you.”
The bad place. The underworld was one big bad place. Afanasiv had shoved all memories of being in this world into a compartment and slammed the door closed, then nailed it shut. He hadn’t wanted to ever remember the experience. Now, it was necessary. His memories were returning bit by bit, in spite of his determination not to let them escape. He had been in the place Andros was. He had to find his way there and make certain Andros knew how to get out.
He moved away from the prisoner’s cell, making his way down another long passageway lit with glowing purple candles set in sconces up high on the walls. Occasionally, he passed a guard with wicked-looking swords or spears standing at attention in front of narrow staircases leading to chambers below. Afanasiv remembered each of those chambers and what took place in them all too vividly. He placed a shield in his mind to keep his lifemate from seeing too many of the memories welling up.
For the first time, he felt Vasilisa protest. She feared leaving Lada in the condition she was in. He sent her waves of reassurance. Gaia was quite capable of taking care of Lada, and they needed her healed and on her feet, ready to make a run for it when Grigor and Andros could get them out. Afanasiv had to plant the escape route in Andros’ mind. Afanasiv would have to provide the distractions so the prisoners could escape. That meant, at some point, he would have to allow Andros to know he was there.
They control him,Vasilisa cautioned.This might not be such a good idea. We should wait and think this through. Have a concrete plan.
It is necessary to give him hope before it is too late for him. You shouldmake your way back to the surface. The things that take place here are not for you to witness.
I will stay with you, Siv.She made that as firm and resolute as possible.
Afanasiv loved that his lady had so much courage. She would need all of it when they descended into that ring of fire. He continued moving down the corridor. When he’d passed the sixth guard, he slowed his progress. The seventh descending stairway appeared unguarded, but he knew better. Two demons waited on either side of the entrance for any unsuspecting wretch who tried to escape and managed to get that far.
Afanasiv had discovered the guards the hard way. He still had the scars of their long spears when they simultaneously stuck the razor-sharp blades into his sides and tried to lift him. Just remembering the pain could have made him shudder and pause before attempting to get past the hidden demons, but he had already pushed all emotion aside and felt nothing as he made his approach. He was spirit only. They might feel a slight breeze as he slipped past, but beyond that, they would see and hear nothing.
Very quiet,he cautioned. Without waiting for Vasilisa’s assurance, he moved into the narrow opening. The guards stank of death and horror. They were flesh eaters, and when gladiators fought to the death in the arenas, they would leap out of the bleachers and tear apart the fallen to feast on them.
He knew Vasilisa saw the images in his mind. He needed her to know what kinds of horror her brother would be facing in the rings below. Lilith was really not happy with Andros to sentence him down here. The heat was stifling even to his spirit. The demon in him reached for the joys of the various arenas. He had battled in all of them—and had been the victor. Being the victor meant he lived. It also meant he had to live with the things he had done in order to survive.
Warmth spread through him. Not the terrible heat of the underworld, but a gentle healing warmth that spread to every cell in hisbrain and created a shield. His lady. Looking out for him. Letting him know he wasn’t alone in this hellhole. He didn’t have to face the torture or the memories alone. She was right there with him, and she didn’t intend to go away. He hadn’t known love or what it meant, but he was certain it was something very close to what he was experiencing with her.
The sound of those screaming in pain reached them as his spirit descended into the lowest rung, where the arenas of torture and death were. Immediately, he saw Andros with a long bullwhip in his hand. The whip appeared to be red-hot, sizzling with life—with burning flames. Each time he expertly brought the fire and flames down on the back of a demon, removing the skin and cauterizing the wound at the same time, those in the stands howled with glee.
Andros wore an expression of joyful cruelty, as if the demon side of him had taken over completely. Over the speakers played pounding music that sounded harsh and demanding. The music swelled in volume. Rappers began to demand the heads of the demons Andros had flayed with his fire whip. Soon the entire stadium was yelling for Andros to gut the demons and cut off their heads.
Afanasiv detested that he’d agreed to allow Vasilisa to come with him. Suddenly, the audience went silent as a young woman shuffled out. She wore the same tattered dress that Lada had been wearing. Her long hair hung down her back in a thick braid, and her arms were bare. She looked young—too young to be a widow with a child. Too young and beat up to be subjected to brutality for the demons’ entertainment, and yet Lada was there.
She stumbled into the center of the bloody ring, a sword and shield in her hands, although it appeared she had no idea what to do with them. Demons sat or lay on the ground, moaning and growling threats. She didn’t spare them so much as a glance. Once she spotted Andros, she didn’t look anywhere else. She had eyes only for him.
Another gate lifted and Grigor strode into the ring. He also carried a sword and shield. He looked worse for wear, but the bruises andknots on his skin didn’t appear to slow him down in the least. He went straight into the middle of the arena, stopping Lada’s forward stumbling.