Her Warriors' Three Wishes (Dante's Circle) (9 page)

Balin smiled and bit back a groan at the thought of her doing just that. “We’re true halves, Jamie.”

“And, what about Ambrose?” Her voice cracked when she said his name, and Balin wanted to curse himself.

“Why can’t you have us both?” he asked, and Hunter rolled his eyes.

“Both?” she squeaked.

“Jamie,” Hunter began, “you need to rest tonight. There’s nothing we can do at this moment. I was going to find a way to get you out of here as it was, but now with Balin here, we should be able to find a plan.”

Jamie rubbed her eyes. “I really,
really
, want to scream and cry right now like those heroines in those books who don’t do a thing for themselves, but I don’t have time for that. I’m going to trust you, Balin, because for some reason my heart tells me to, but that doesn’t mean I get this whole true-half business.”

Balin nodded, relived that she was even thinking about it, and he caught himself before he pulled her into his body so he could hold her and never let go. But, he let himself weaken just a bit and ran a finger down her cheek.

He’d been right. Her skin was as soft as silk.

He watched as a shudder ran down her body and her pretty brown eyes dilated.

“We’ll talk about it all. I’ll protect you,” he vowed.

She nodded then pulled back, walking to her cot in the corner.

Hunter came to his side and whispered in his ear, “You’re going to have to explain to her exactly how you get your strength back, you know.”

Balin let out a breath. “Oh, I know.”

Hades, he didn’t want to scare her, but now that he’d seen her, spoken to her…touched her…he never wanted to let her go.

He just had to fight hell to get her.

Easy for a demon…right?

Chapter 7

The demon’s scream was cut short as Ambrose sliced off his head. Its decapitated head stared back at Ambrose, his eyes wide and full of the fear he should have had from the beginning. Though the others in hell couldn’t tell Ambrose was a warrior angel, and thereby thought he must have been just a normal demon, he thought at least the stupid soldier wouldn’t have tried to kill him by himself.

The other man had had a weak technique and even weaker body.

It was no wonder the lowly demon had died so suddenly.

He wiped his blade on the clothes of the dead demon and sheathed it. He’d have to clean it fully when he got back to the other realm. At least, he hoped he could get back. He hadn’t devised a plan in which to do so, but he hoped that Dante’s friend Balin could aid him in that respect.

Ambrose looked out onto the barren wasteland of the hell realm and shook his head. Throughout his years, he’d yet to spend any significant amount of time here. In fact, he’d only been here once before, during the last angel and demon war, a millennia or two ago.

There were no children running in the streets, no laughter or promise filling the empty space.

No, this was a place of death, the place humans fought so hard and with such vehemence not to make it to.

It was just too bad that sometimes the demons brought them, not the humans themselves. That was why, if he could find this Balin, he’d save him along with Jamie. The demon hadn’t taken a soul and was dying for it. Ambrose would find a way to protect the man.

Though deep down, Ambrose knew it was for another reason. A connection, something that he didn’t want to think about.

So he wouldn’t think about it.

He had to save Jamie, and she was far more important than an odd feeling at the mention of a name.

Ambrose had seen too much in his long life to bury the images of what could be happening to her—what she could endure. Jamie was stronger than people thought, but that didn’t mean she could survive hell.

He shook his head and tried to clear it. There was no use thinking about things that couldn’t be changed. 

The heat beat on him as he walked toward Pyro’s territory.  He’d have made it there in a fraction of the time if he could have flown, but demons didn’t fly. The medallion he wore only shielded his essence if he acted the part. There would be no hiding if he suddenly sprouted wings.

Ambrose crept along the edge of a cavern and stopped when he heard the telltale sound of footsteps. He risked a peek and saw a younger demon training with a sword, his horns sticking out from his head, as only a son of Lucifer’s could do.

The boy didn’t look old enough to take souls, a teenager at best, and Ambrose wasn’t in the mindset to kill the innocent—he never was.

He snuck behind the demon and tackled him to the ground, surprised when the boy fought back with a skill that surpassed his age.

“What the hell?” the boy asked as he struggled beneath Ambrose’s grip.

“Where is the demon they call Balin?” he asked, his forearm against the kid’s throat.

“Why do you want him? Let him be. He doesn’t need trouble from the likes of you. He has enough on his plate.”

So the boy defended Balin, meaning he had to be a friend. Or at least an enemy with a conscience. 

“What’s your name, boy?”

“Fawkes, what’s yours?”

“I am Ambrose.”

Fawkes eyes widened. “I know that name. You’re the warrior angel who defeated Balin’s dad, aren’t you?”

Ambrose took a risk and leaned back. “They tell you of that story still?”

They both stood and Fawkes grinned and rubbed this throat. “Of course they do. Pyro’s an ass and deserved what came to him. Why do you want to see Balin?”

“Because he might be of aid to me.”

Fawkes rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I figured that. Now why don’t you tell me the real reason because I’m not just going to let you hurt him.”

The kid had balls. That was for sure. “What makes you think I can’t get it out of you?”

“Because despite this badass, old-as-dirt persona you have, you’re not a bad guy.”

“Old as dirt?” he asked wryly.

“Hey, I said you were a badass too.”

Ambrose let out a breath. Dante hadn’t mentioned Fawkes, but the kid might have been too young for the old dragon to have even met. 

“Pyro stole my true half, a human woman who shouldn’t have to endure the pits of hell. A friend from the human realm said Balin would be able to help.”

Sadness spread over Fawkes’ face, and he shook his head. “I don’t know how much help Balin will be to you.”

“I know his age and his choices, Fawkes.”

The boy swallowed hard but clenched his jaw like a boy becoming a man. “I don’t want him to spend his last days in any more pain. I will say, I’ve heard they brought a human woman down here for the games.” 

Fury spread through him. “The games? They’ll kill her.”

Fawkes frowned then shrugged. “That’s the point with Pyro. I can’t help you, even though I would if I could. I haven’t hit maturity yet, and I can’t get into the games without sneaking in. Plus, I don’t have the strength I need. But I’ll tell you how to get in.”

“You’re a good man, Fawkes.”

Shadows filled the boy’s eyes, something far darker than a demon his age should have. “No, I’m not sure that I am. I haven’t made that choice yet.”

Ambrose gripped Fawkes’ shoulder. “When you reach maturity and you’re allowed to go to the human realm, if you choose not to take souls, I will help you in whatever way I can. You didn’t have to tell me where you thought Jamie was, and you didn’t have to protect your friend. You’re already stronger than you think.”

Fawkes gave him a long, pleading look then shook it off. “I might take you up on that. I don’t know my decision yet. I do know that we better hurry if I’m going to show you how to sneak in. Just keep that medallion around your neck. The last thing we need is another war. Oh, and please don’t tell me how you got that, okay?”

“You know what this is?” Ambrose fingered the medallion around his neck.

“Uh huh, and that’s why I’m not going to talk about it.”

Curious, but more worried about Jamie, he let it slide. He followed the younger demon to the coliseum, each step growing heavier as he thought about what would happen if he was too late. Jamie couldn’t survive what they would do to her in the games.

She would have stood a chance though if she’d had her powers. No, Ambrose had been an idiot and denied the both of them their mating because of his own insecurities. He swallowed hard but bit back the emotion that threatened to drown him. 

The large stone structure looked reminiscent of the one in the human realm—at least how it had looked when the human one had been new. Ambrose remembered the gladiator games and had been glad the barbaric custom had died out…at least in most places of the world. Looking now at the demonic one, Ambrose suppressed a shudder.

The stone rose up to the sky like giant claws ready to break through the red clouds and watch them bleed. There were no entrances or exits easily navigable. Except for the owners and patrons, whatever went in did not come out alive.

He’d be dammed if he let Jamie become one of theirs to play with.

“I can get you in through the sewer on the other side,” Fawkes explained as they crouched behind a boulder. “It isn’t pretty, but it should do. I can’t go in with you because my dad would shit a brick, but I can at least make it so you can get in.”

“Thank you, Fawkes.”

The young demon shrugged. “Don’t thank me. For all we know, I’m sending you to your death. I don’t like knowing humans are dying down here because of who they know, not for what they did.”

Ambrose nodded and followed in silence as they made their way to a sewer drain filled with mud, rain, and other things he was determined not to think about. Considering they were at the edge of a place where demons and other creatures died frequently, he really didn’t want to know.

“This is where I leave you. Head north and you’ll end up right at the prisoner cells.”

“You’re kidding me,” Ambrose said. “If they have a way out right there, why don’t people escape?”

“Because it’s easy as hell to get in this way, but to get out, they have to get through their doors, the guards, and magic. You can get in, but you’ll need luck to get out.”

“Well, hell.”

Fawkes cracked a smile. “Considering you’re in hell, that makes sense. The doors will be easy for you because you’re not behind them. You’re a warrior angel, so you should be able to take care of the guards. As for the magic?” Fawkes shook his head. “All I can say is that if you’re quick enough, you should make it.”

“Should.”

“I don’t know, Ambrose. The risk is worth it if you consider what’s going to happen if you don’t try.”

Ambrose opened the grate, the heavy weight of it surprising him. As he stepped in the gunk that shall not be named, he looked over his shoulder at Fawkes. “Remember what I said. You make that choice, you can come up with me. We’ll find a way.”

Fawkes just nodded, uncertainty in his gaze. “I remember. Good luck.”

Ambrose nodded back and crouched down in the sewer. He headed north for a few hundred feet amongst the rotting corpses, blood, and grime, and then he found himself at another grate with a small sliver of light shining through.

Oh, thank God.

He wasn’t sure even his tough stomach could handle the gore much longer. He didn’t want to think about what Jamie would have to endure when he took her back through it.

He looked through the small opening and couldn’t see guards, nor could he hear them. Careful not to attract attention, he slowly slid the grate off its hinges, almost buckling from the weight. He was a strong angel, and he wasn’t sure others would be able to lift the damn thing. No wonder it was a deterrent.

Ambrose crept down the darkened hallway, looking back and forth and keeping his senses on high alert. Demons occupied each cell, most dying or dead. Only a few looked like they could fight worth a damn, but they didn’t pay him any attention. With the medallion around his neck, he looked like a demon with a right to be down there.

Because of the bond he held with Jamie, at least the initial makings of a bond, he had the ability to find her if she was close enough. He couldn’t close his eyes and concentrate on it because he had to make sure he wasn’t spotted by a guard, he could still settle into that bond and reach out to her.

He almost fell to his knees and wept when he found that thread. He followed the path in the tunnels while following the fragile thread leading to Jamie. 

That meant that she was alive.

That she still had a chance.

Thank God.

After another turn, the bond felt stronger, and he stopped at a gate.

She was in there. 

This had to be it.

“Who’s there?” a deep voice growled, and Ambrose stiffened.

“No one you need to concern yourself with,” he answered.

“Am…Ambrose?” Jamie whispered as she hesitantly made her way up to the door.

Oh, God. His knees felt weak, and he pressed his palm against the bars. She did the same, and at the touch of her soft, soft skin, he melted. 

She was real.

Alive.

Bruised, but otherwise she looked okay. Her wide eyes made her skin look paler than normal.

“Jamie,” he rasped out.

“You’re Ambrose?” another deep voice asked, this one different from the first one. 

Ambrose looked behind Jamie at the demon who’d said his name and froze.

Hell, that connection. He could feel it clear as day, just the same as it had been with Jamie, that warmth spreading through his chest, wrapping and locking itself around his heart.

This was that third, the other man he had felt for Jamie.

He wasn’t just for Jamie…no, the man was for him as well.

A triad.

“Well, hell,” the demon whispered as he rubbed his chest.

“What?” Jamie asked as she looked between them both. “What is it?”

“You better get in here if you don’t want to get caught,” the first voice said. “They won’t look in the cages as long as you don’t make a scene.”

Ambrose nodded, took another look around him to make sure no one was there, and slid into the cell. He didn’t close the door all the way so he wouldn’t be locked in. Without words, he pulled Jamie into his arms, and she sank into him.