Unreap My Heart (The Reaper Series) (26 page)

For the hundredth time, she cursed Granmare Baba. If the witch hadn’t connected her to Balthazar to mask her human scent, he wouldn’t have had the power to use her in his scheme. Did Balthazar call selling her using everything at his disposal to help her? Did he consider whoring her out protecting her?

Arianne’s skin crawled the second the thought entered her head. Oh god, what did one night with her mean? Would they force her to…

Arianne doubled over and puked. She didn’t have anything in her stomach to hurl out, so she dry heaved instead, which hurt ten times worse. Her stomach squeezed then tumbled inside her like it wasn’t attached to her body. To her ear, she sounded both horrible and pathetic.

Again and again the same thought repeated in her head.

She’d been sold to save Ben.

The lesser demons gathered around her. One rubbed her back while the other held her shoulders. When the dry heaving stopped, Arianne wiped the back of her hand over her wet lips. Just because she didn’t have anything in her stomach didn’t mean she didn’t have spit. She swallowed, then took a deep breath before straightening. One of the lesser demons gave her a sympathetic smile.

Arianne tried to smile back but her lips wouldn’t stop trembling. She took a couple more deep breaths and reminded herself what she did all of this for. Her knees shook when Niko’s face came to mind. Would he still want her after tonight?

Arianne shook her head.

She’d saved Ben. That had to count for something. Ben had given his life for hers without thinking twice. Surely she could survive a night. Just one night.

Arianne took one last deep breath and nodded at the demon still smiling at her. She gestured for them to lead on. They climbed one more flight of stairs until they reached the hall that led to Balthazar’s private suite. Arianne closed her eyes. She didn’t want the image of him naked in her head.

She opened her eyes when she heard the doors open. The lesser demon to her left ushered her in before closing the doors behind her. Arianne turned around and stared blankly at the doors. Then she turned in a tight circle inside the empty room.

“What now?” she asked the still air.

Arianne’s eyes landed on her folded clothes on the couch. On top lay the knife Tomas had given her. She ran for it and clutched it to her chest. Considering her slave outfit, she had no way to hide the thing on her body. Shaking, she moved away from the couch toward the bedroom.

Thinking fast, Arianne stuffed the knife under one of the pillows. No one said she couldn’t defend herself against whoever was spending the night with her. When the doors opened again, she froze. She stared at the entrance to the bedroom.

A large Demon King filled her line of sight. The thing must have been over seven feet tall and all muscle. She recognized him as the one who’d bid for Ben before the angel and Balthazar had outbid him. He looked bigger up close with skin blacker than the darkest night. His eyes burned a fiery red, watching her carefully. His massive wings spanned the entire height of him. The tips curled toward each other to keep from touching the floor. He had hooves for feet and long claws at the end of his fingers. He kept his lips firmly closed, but Arianne suspected he had a wicked set of teeth under there. Her fingers itched to inch back and grab the knife beneath the pillow. If it could kill Balthazar, then surely it could kill a Demon King.

“You look lovely,” he said in a gravelly voice, like he had a sore throat. He inhaled. “You smell lovely too.”

“It’s the rose oil,” Arianne said, surprised she managed to speak without trembling. The muscles in her stomach quivered. She leaned against the side of the bed’s headboard.

The Demon King licked his black lips with an impossibly red tongue. “I’ve never been with an attached slave soul before. I will relish spending the night with you.”

Arianne thought fast. If she could make a deal with Death himself, surely she could do the same with a Demon King. “Are you the one who will spend the night with me?”

The Demon King hesitated before he nodded. Arianne wondered what that second’s hesitation was about, but she pushed forward with what she had in mind. If she could get the Demon King to somewhere public, maybe she could still escape, or at least buy some more time until she could find someone willing to help her.

“You must be very powerful for a Demon King,” she said. Rule number one in getting any guy to do what you want: stroke his ego. She’d learned this from Carrie. Hopefully it would work.

His chest puffed up like a silverback gorilla. “The most powerful.”

Arianne batted her eyelashes through her fear. Predators smelled fear. She’d learned this from her father. “I thought so.” She adjusted her stance so she looked curvier. This she’d learned from her mother. She never thought it would come in handy, but the bikini helped, too. Little did her family know when they were teaching her all these tricks that their lessons would be used to get what she wanted from a Demon King.

“Then you can take me to where the auction items are being kept.”

The Demon King snorted. “Of course I can. But why would I?”

“Because…” Arianne paused, thinking about what to say next. Then something Ben told her long ago about bad boys came to mind. “Wouldn’t it be cool to get a look at what else they have down there? Maybe there’s something we could use.”

Bad boys equally liked bad girls, according to Ben. Arianne couldn’t remember why they’d had that conversation, but judging from the smile on the Demon King’s face, it worked. She never in a million years thought it would.

She raised her chin to seem haughty, staring at him through her eyelashes. She’d seen an actress do it in one of these teen dramas she’d watched over the summer. The episode was about seducing the lead male away from the lead female. Arianne thought it might help now.

“Show me the way?” she said.

Instead of leaving the room, the Demon King hauled Arianne over his shoulder. She struggled against him, but she might as well be pounding on a brick wall. The Demon King laughed.

“Do you honestly think I will fall for your attempts at distracting me?” he said.

Arianne stopped struggling immediately. She should have known her little seduction wouldn’t work. The Demon King had agreed way too easily to what she wanted. She cursed Balthazar one more time for putting her in this position. She wasn’t about to become demon bait. Not if she could help it.

“I’m new at this,” she said softly, like someone helpless.

The Demon King grunted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“And why’s that?”

“Any slave of Balthazar’s should be of the highest quality. Why do you think bidding you managed to win him the soul of that boy against a night with Jezebel?”

Arianne didn’t know who this Jezebel person was. Her name didn’t ring a bell, so it meant Granmare Baba didn’t include that piece of info. But she did give Arianne ways to kill a Demon King. Arianne steeled herself. If she wanted to survive the night, then she had to work around her aversion to hurting another living thing. She quickly realized the only person who could help her out of the situation was herself. Balthazar had been right all along. Everything in the Underverse was dangerous. If she didn’t man up now then she didn’t deserve to survive.

She swallowed and forced herself to say, “If we’re going to do anything, I’d rather do it on the bed, if you don’t mind.”

The Demon King slapped her backside and tipped his head back, laughing loud enough that the walls vibrated from the inhuman sound. Arianne raised her hands to cover her ears then realized her wrists were still shackled together. The Demon King—still laughing—flipped her onto the bed. Arianne yelped, her breath catching in her lungs. She struggled to inhale. Before the Demon King could position himself above her, Arianne raised her wrists.

“Can you undo these?” she asked in the sweet voice she used when she wanted something from someone—specifically a male someone.

The Demon King blinked at her, confusion clear on his face.

“I can hold you better if my wrists aren’t tied,” she added, ignoring the twist in her stomach at having to say those words.

Finally getting what she meant, the Demon King used one of his claws to cut off the shackles holding her wrists together. Arianne sighed as if she hated being tied up and rubbed the aching skin on her wrists. Then she did something she didn’t think she could do under these circumstances: smiled like she meant it.

“Go on,” she said. “Take your…” She meant to say clothes but the Demon King only had that tight Speedo looking thing on.

She didn’t have to say much more because the Demon King backed away then turned around, presumably to do what she’d asked. Arianne averted her eyes and reached for the knife beneath the pillow. She pushed it out of its sheath, leaving the leather where it was. She clutched the hilt and hid it behind her back.

The Demon King turned back around then leaped on top of her. Arianne saw nothing but blackness. At first she thought she’d blacked out. But when the Demon King shifted above her, she got a glimpse of the ceiling. Her heart hammered a million beats a minute, sending roaring blood to her ears. The Demon King smelled rancid, like rotting road kill. He dipped his head and licked her neck from base to chin. Forcing herself not to squirm from the gross touch, Arianne steeled herself for what she had to do. If she didn’t move now it would be too late.

Just as the Demon King grabbed her breast, she pulled the knife out and screamed.

Chapter 29

ISO

S
OLARA
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EFT
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without a second thought. She didn’t even leave instructions. Like D, the Voyeur liked order in her entire operation. She didn’t need to micromanage anything. The party would go on flawlessly even without its mistress keeping a close watch. The guests were already thoroughly entertained, judging from the cheers and jeers. Which was no surprise given the amount of Nectar circulating. Most of the creatures in the ballroom were already hammered.

Balthazar trailed the Voyeur as she weaved through the increasingly boisterous crowd. The auction resumed around them as if tonight’s excitement had never happened. Balthazar should have known better than to expect that his antics with the honorable-to-a-fault Heavenly Host would leave a lasting impact. Call it ego. Call it whatever you wanted. Balthazar had at least wanted to make an impression. Sadly, he played for a jaded crowd. They’d quickly moved on.

He sighed under his breath. Might be better this way. The more waves he and Arianne created tonight, the harder their escape would be. Solara wouldn’t take their deception lying down. The thought of Arianne led to other unexpected things. Or should he say emotions. Chief among them: guilt, something Balthazar never had any use for until now. It ate at him like a parasite. The look on Arianne’s face bothered him every time he blinked. The betrayal in her eyes haunted him. When had his chest grown so tight?

Balthazar forced himself to ignore the irritating guilt picking at him. Instead, he concentrated on following Solara. They ducked into the concealed entrance without anyone else being the wiser. Balthazar hadn’t seen Zakariel among the crowd, so the Heavenly Host must already be waiting for him inside Solara’s office.

Not once did Solara look back at him. Balthazar expected it. He’d managed to outwit her and he used her sister to do it. The Voyeur’s relationship with Granmare Baba had always been a tumultuous one. Over the centuries they’d made a game of one upping each other. Anyone who got in between the battling bitches usually lost their heads.

Balthazar rolled his head from side to side, popping the vertebrae in his neck, the muscles there tense. He had to find a safe way out of the mansion with Arianne.

None of his plans would work if he didn’t play it right with Zakariel. The Heavenly Host held the key to the Redeemer. Balthazar reminded himself to take things a step at a time. He was so close, so very close to his goal. The thing now would be not to trip and unravel everything he’d worked so hard for.

At the mirrored hallway, Balthazar caught a glimpse of Solara’s face. Her lips had disappeared into a white line and her brow crumpled. He grinned, unable to help himself.

“Stress causes wrinkles,” he said.

Solara stopped abruptly and faced one of the mirrors. She raised her hands to her face and leaned closer, checking for the wrinkles Balthazar had mentioned. When she found none, she straightened and faced him.

“What are you playing at here, Enforcer?” She raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze damning.

He used every ounce of will power he had not to react to her use of his dead title. He hadn’t been the Enforcer for the longest time. Nothing made him happier. Unfortunately, the memories of the creatures in the Underverse lasted millennia. When someone like Solara held a grudge, a thousand years in hiding wouldn’t be enough. Balthazar had to keep things simple.

“Last I checked, you’re not my mother. And even then I wouldn’t feel like explaining myself to you.”

Solara crossed her elegant arms and waited.

Balthazar narrowed his gaze for a moment. “I made a bargain to protect her.”