“I’m not jealous. Besides, she’s way too young for you. I just don’t like when people check you out,” I say with a huff. He chuckles and pulls me to a department store so I can find black gloves. Once we have everything we need, we rush back through our portal.
“We have it!” Mason calls out as we walk back into the apartment. Sam is pacing back and forth while Liam tries to calm him.
“Our end is finished too, it just needs a minute to dry.” Liam announces, showing us the stamp he’s holding in front of the fan.
Sam is clearly a wizard with his hands. It’s small enough that we can apply the spelled ink quickly, and made with precision. Touching that nasty demon will be the hard part.
“I don’t want Luz going. She can open our portal to get there, but she stays here,” Sam announces and I turn to glare at him.
“Excuse me?” I shout at him and he looks surprised for a moment.
“Luz should go. She knows that place better than the rest of us,” Mason defends. “Leaving her would be stupid. She’s Dreakvac’s biggest weakness right now.”
“She’s done enough for the souls,” Liam adds, glaring down at me with determination. Mason takes a step next to my side, which causes another round of curses.
The arguing continues around me, but truthfully, I’m the one who has to go. I’m not going to be left out and I certainly can’t let the guys get hurt again. It’s been overwhelming, watching person after person get hurt for me. I’m the one he wants and I’m the one who will be able to get closest to him without casualties.
Ignoring their arguing that hasn’t stopped, I pour the ink into the smaller container and pocket it along with the stamp. Not a single one of them looks my way, so I take my chance.
“You boys fight it out, I’ll be in my room changing,” I announce, trying not to sound suspicious. They all look at me for a moment but let me pass. I take a long look at each of their faces before walking out. I lock my door behind me and change into my leathers, wrapping my chain around my waist like a belt to keep it handy. I tuck the stamp and ink into my new outfit, put daggers in each of my boots, then pull on the gloves and open the portal.
“Luz, what the fuck are you doing?” Sam’s voice bellows through the door, followed by loud thumping.
“I’m sorry, I love you three! Take care of Thea,” I yell back, which only causes more arguing. They are pounding so hard on the door it starts splintering under the force.
I take one last deep breath and run through the portal, not looking back. As soon as I exit to the other side, the demons swarm me. I’m not even given a chance to fight back or defend myself.
A blow to my head knocks me over, and blow after blow rain down on me until even breathing is a chore. I curl up into a fetal position, protecting the rune and ink with my life.
“Enough!” Drekavac’s dreaded voice rings out. I cringe at the sound of it. He approaches me slowly, a creepy smile on his face. “Ah, my queen dares to return? I knew the souls would draw you in. Your kind nature won’t leave them to disappear forever. Why do you think I took so many this time?” His patronizing tone has me looking up and glaring at him.
“Fuck you,” I mumble, which is about all I can manage. He scoops me up roughly and carries me inside.
“I intend to fuck you, don’t worry,” he promises, then turns to his demon minions. “See that you give us time alone.” I cringe at what he implies, but I reserve my strength for when I will really need it. I knew this was going to happen, prepared for it, but it doesn’t stop the bile from rising as he holds me close.
Drekavac carries me into his room, and I recognize it from before. I’m dumped unceremoniously on the floor before I can even brace myself. He kicks me swiftly in the stomach. The impact leaves me gasping for air.
“You stupid bitch. You think you can make me look like a fool and get away with it? I think I will have fun playing with you. I intend to torture you mercilessly for days, until you beg me to take you as my mate. Only when you beg me for mercy will I take you,” he spits his words out at me. I curl up just as he moves his foot back to strike me again.
He takes out his anger on me for hours, each angry word punctuated with a kick, punch, or something slammed onto me. My body is broken in more places than I care to admit, but I keep trying to tune out the pain and focus on happier memories.
It works in small reprieves, but I’m quickly brought back to reality when the pain becomes strong enough. Finally, I see him tiring out, his anger slowly ebbing away. I can barely raise my head to watch as he walks away.
He walks to a nearby table and picks up a metal rod of some kind. A scream slips out as he brings it down on my arm, the bone underneath shattering under the blow. He throws the rod down as I wail in pain, but I force myself not to lose consciousness. I refuse to be vulnerable around him.
Drekavac turns again and I take the opportunity to grab the stamp. The container is cracked but not enough to leak out just yet. I pour it on the ground next to me and coat the tip of the stamp in it. Using one hand isn’t easy but I put every ounce of strength and concentration I have into not fucking this up.
I curl my hand around the stamp carefully, trying not to touch the ink in case it seeps into the gloves. It’s ridiculous to care about staining my skin permanently at a time like this, but I’m careful regardless.
He stalks back towards me slowly, tapping something shiny in his hand. I see the point of the knife glint in the light and whimper. Now is my only chance, otherwise the demon will damage my body beyond repair, and I’m not willing to find out what happens if he manages that before I bind him.
I mumble incoherently, hoping his curiosity will win and he will come closer to find out what I’m saying. He falls into the trap and crouches down in front of me. I reach out my arm slowly while I mumble, praying he won’t notice my hand slipping toward him.
My impatience gets the best of me and I ignore the pain in my arm and slam the stamp against the skin on his leg. The whole moment is ridiculously anticlimactic. I assumed it would burn or something, but he doesn’t even react, except to kick me off of him. I tuck the stamp into my pocket discreetly, not wanting to raise suspicion. He’d kill me for my disobedience, or torture me with renewed vigor. I want neither outcome.
At least now I know the souls are safe.
With my goal accomplished, I let myself give into the exhaustion threatening to take hold.