Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle) (8 page)

The other demon staggered, Balin’s knife embedded deep in his chest, but still raised his sword, prepared for battle. Balin ducked at a clumsy blow, shifted to his steady leg, and sliced the bastard’s head off with one quick strike.

The look of surprise on the demon’s face was priceless.

As if the weakling son of Pyro couldn’t have killed the demon in one quick blow.

Balin wiped his sword off on the pants of the dead soldier and did the same to his knife once he took it out of the demon’s chest. He didn’t want to leave any weapons behind in case the other man had friends, and frankly, Balin had a feeling he’d need all the weapons he had in the upcoming battle for Jamie…and his life.

Pain shot through him, and he coughed. Hell, he’d used up too much energy fighting. Quickly, he surveyed the area and didn’t see anyone else there. That didn’t mean he was alone, but it was the best he could do. He had only another ten or so minute hike until he made it to the mouth of the cave, and then he could recharge as he made his way to Jamie.

Jamie.

Yes, she was the reason he did this. It was worth it.

It had to be.

He practically stumbled the last few feet but gave a thankful prayer to whatever god would take him as he made it to the cave. The lack of fire, explosive heat, and red sky would help him breathe as he made his way, thankfully.

He could only hope he wasn’t too late.

Balin made it through the tunnels with relative ease, the path familiar to him, as he’d taken it numerous times as a kid so he wouldn’t be beaten. Pyro had always found him later and hit him harder, but Balin had at least had those few minutes of peace, and he was pretty sure Pyro had never found out how Balin had escaped—something that had angered the man even more.

Balin suppressed a shudder at the phantom feeling of the hot poker Pyro had used to sear his flesh as punishment. 

He couldn’t let Pyro do that to Jamie.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, Balin pressed his hand along the outwardly invisible seam and twisted the hidden handle. The door popped open with a quiet hiss, and Balin made his way through, closing it firmly behind him. He didn’t sense anyone near him, but he couldn’t be too careful.

He crept along the halls of the dungeons his father loved to build and made his way to the top floor. There were no guards below, only ones on the first floors. Once someone made it past the dungeon door, they didn’t make it out alive so there was no reason for guards below. Well, at least in all cases but Balin’s.

According to Pyro, though, he was special.

Lucky him.

Balin had looked through the cells as he made his way up and didn’t see Jamie, only dead demons that needed to be cleaned up eventually.

Demons didn’t last long in Pyro’s care.

Balin made it to the room where he’d last seen Jamie, uneasy that he hadn’t seen or heard his father yet. He could only hope the bastard was asleep in his room or out killing something weaker than him.

He slowly opened the door and cursed, a deep disappointment sliding through him.

Fuck
.

She wasn’t there.

Terror hit him hard, but he buried it. He searched the other two rooms on the ground floor but didn’t see her.

Hades, that could only mean one thing if what Pyro had said was true.

He’d taken Jamie to the games early.

Why? 

Balin slinked through the house, dodging guards, and made it through the front door so no one would sense him. He hid behind a boulder, trying to catch his breath and gather his strength.

Why had Pyro taken her so early?

His father wouldn’t have become bored with her so easily, not when he thought she was Ambrose’s. No, he’d have wanted to play with her longer, savor the experience.

Again, he swallowed the bile at that thought.

Shit, could Pyro have noticed the connection between Balin and Jamie?

He’d tried to smother his expression when he’d entered the room, but there had been that split second of surprise and awe at seeing the woman who’d been his dreams—who could save him.

Hell, had it been his fault?

He prayed that Pyro hadn’t gotten angry and killed her. Though Balin hadn’t smelled a recent death within the walls, that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.

He gripped the hilt of his sword harder and cursed.

No, she was alive—she had to be.

Pyro would see Ambrose’s punishment and pain through, and if his father had sensed something was wrong with Balin, he’d made sure his son would feel that agony as well.

That meant that Jamie had to be at the games now.

Alone.

Not dead, no, she couldn’t be.

He’d know, right?

It didn’t matter. Either way, he had to make it to the games. Either to know for sure that both of their fates had been decided for them or to save her.

Then maybe they could get out of hell and have a life filled with something more than just the fires of hell. He’d never even spoken to this woman, but he knew she was the source of his hope. If Ambrose was also her true half, that also meant there was a chance he was part of Balin’s future as well—a triad.

He’d take anything he could get.

They could be his hope.

They
were
his hope.

Balin took a deep breath and began the long trip to the coliseum where the games were held. He could only hope that in the few short hours he’d seen Jamie, that she’d been healed and prepared for the games…not
in
the games.

As a human, she’d be a huge draw due to the fact that her death would be brutal, and the demons would want to see that.

He shook his head, pissed at himself for even thinking that.  He’d find her first, damn it.

Ambrose was an angel and couldn’t come to hell to save her. That meant it was up to him to save her—something that made him feel stronger than he was.

Balin looked at the sturdy stone coliseum and cursed. This would be harder than just taking her from Pyro’s home. There were guards, dungeons, fighters with such scarred minds that their brutality was a thing of legends.

 He made his way to the back entrance of the games, knowing he’d have to sneak in. Damn, he really didn’t want to do fight and kill, but it would be worth it to live and to find Jamie.

He’d have to make sure when he found her that she knew he wasn’t there only for himself, that he wanted her for him as a true half, not just to save his life.

Balin was pretty sure women liked hearing things like that.

Okay, now he was getting ahead of himself.

The back door was actually a large chain and iron gate that would be hell—literally—to break into. Meaning he’d have to take a key from one of the guards.

Balin took out his dagger and leapt at the first one he found, slicing the demon’s throat before he could take a breath or scream, alerting the others to Balin’s presence. Balin searched him and cursed. 

This particular guard didn’t have a key, but he did carry a large sword, meaning he was the muscle of the operation.

Balin crept behind the other guard and made quick work of him, though each movement sucked out more energy from within. He felt his skin sweating, his body drawing on too much energy. He knew he must have looked pale and drawn, not the best condition for fighting, but it was all he could do until he found a way to save Jamie or die.

He just hoped it wasn’t the latter.

The key to the door lay on the second demon’s chest, attached to a chain around his neck. Balin took it from him, hid the bodies, and went in, locking the door behind him. He hoped if anyone came by they’d think the dead demons were passed out drunk, not dead, thus letting the world know there was an intruder amongst them.

There were hundreds of cells in the basement below the fighting floor of the coliseum, and it would be pointless for Balin to search them for hours, but he knew there was a list of prisoners and cell numbers in the back room where the game leaders would make bets of their own.

Instead of hiding, he strode through the place like he owned it. After all, he was a demon, scarred from war and his father; he’d fit in. Better to hide in plain sight than look like he was out of place.

He made his way to the back room, ignoring the other demons as they walked past, though they ignored him as well.

Thankfully.

The board was a mishmash of names, cell numbers, species, and fight times. There was no real order for anything, but Balin looked anyway. He scanned the names, cursing when he couldn’t find her…

There.

Human. Cell 475. Midnight Death
.

As far as Balin could tell, there wasn’t another human on the board. Relief then fury spread through him at what she would have to face if he didn’t get her out of there.

Midnight Death was the highlight of the games. A bloodbath of torture and rape before they killed their victim.

Well, fuck that, Jamie wouldn’t be part of it. He’d get her out of there before then.

He made his way through the tunnels, aware he had to be careful not to draw attention to himself, though, in reality, no one knew him past a quick glimpse here and there in his life due to his father’s torture, so he was in the clear.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he found her cell.

Each door unlocked from the outside without a key so he made his way in once the guards left for another section of patrol. He clicked the door open and slid in, anticipation on his tongue.

This was it. 

“Who are you?” a deep voice said from the shadowed corner.

Hell, did he have the wrong cell?

“I doesn’t matter. I’m here for someone else,” he answered, cursing himself for not finding Jamie right away. He didn’t know who was in the cell with him, but because of the way the door was, he couldn’t have seen in right away anyway.

“Who?” the voice asked.

“No one you’d know.” Balin squinted, trying to see in the dark corners. When something shifted behind the large shadow, Balin’s body shook, his heart connecting to something he hadn’t thought possible.

“Jamie?” he asked, his voice raspy.

“What? How did you know my name?” Jamie slid from behind the dark shadow, fear and tears on her face.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been bloody, her cheek broken, and her body chained to a wall. It looked as if Pyro had healed her before sending her to the games—most likely for more money.

Wait…what was he supposed to say now?

He’d had everything planned yet hadn’t. He felt like a fish out of water. He was an alpha demon—even if he hadn’t been acting like one since his world had turned on end when he’d found her. Yet the sight of this little woman who could be his—who
was
his true half, left him speechless.

The shadow moved, and Balin found himself against the stone wall, the rivets digging into his back.

“Who are you?”

Balin struggled, but he knew he was too weak at this point to fight much harder. “I’m Balin. I’m here to get Jamie out of here.”

“Hunter, put him down,” Jamie said, her voice soft and strong, though Balin could still hear the fear beneath it.

He didn’t want to be jealous of the way she put her hand on Hunter’s arm to settle him, but hell, he couldn’t help it. She was his—and maybe Ambrose’s—no one else’s.

“Tell me how you know her,” Hunter said but lessened his grip a bit.

“I’m Pyro’s son.” He winced when Jamie blanched, but he continued on. “I’m not going to hurt you; I promise. I hate my father far more than any of you could hope to know, and I don’t want you to fear me.”

“Why are you here for me?” Jamie asked.

“Because you’re my true half.”

There. It was out, and he couldn’t take it back, but it seemed like the best thing he could say at this point.

“No, you can’t be. Ambrose is,” she whispered.

Fuck, that hurt, but he let it go. If what he thought was true, then he and Ambrose would have to find a way to work together. Though he could live without this Hunter prisoner hurting him.

“It’s true, Jamie. I promise. Can’t you feel that connection?” He prayed she could. He knew humans couldn’t, but for some reason, he didn’t think she was fully human. No, there was something else about her.

“I don’t know. Hunter, let him go.”

Hunter grunted but relented.

Balin rubbed his neck and gave the man—no werewolf—another look. “You’re Hunter, the games’ lead fighter.”

Hunter nodded. “And that means you know I can kill you quickly if you hurt Jamie. I’ve heard of you Balin, and I know you don’t take souls like other demons do. Meaning you’re weak.”

“You don’t take souls? I thought I’d read that all demons need that to live.”

So she knew about the supernatural and had read about them before coming here? He’d have to make sure he found out all he could about her. Everything.

“We do need it to live. There’s another way to get around that, but once we hit three hundred, it’s over for us.”

“How old are you?” she asked.

He gave a self-deprecating smile. “Two hundred and ninety-nine.”

“Oh, Balin,” she whispered.

Hades, he loved the sound of his name on her lips. This wasn’t the time for that. Well, at some point, he’d have to explain to her exactly how they’d get out of hell—sex and all—but right now, he needed to make sure she was safe for the moment.

“I’ll explain everything.”

“The place is on lockdown at night, Balin,” Hunter explained, and Balin nodded. “We won’t be able to get out until they open it back up.”

“I know, but I can get you out when they open. I’m a demon, and they won’t look twice at me bringing Jamie out.” They’d just think he was taking her for some personal play, but he wasn’t about to tell Jamie that.

“Me
and
Hunter,” she corrected.

Balin cast a look toward the prized fighter who was rumored to be a good man, hence why he’d become a prisoner in hell.

“Fine, Hunter as well.”

“Before we do any of this, you’re going to explain to me exactly who you are and why I feel the need to wrap myself around you and never let you go,” Jamie said, her chin raised high.