They turned and left, the metal door clanked closed behind them and I was left alone with whatever this was.
“Hello?” I say to the form on the floor.
The being shifted, one of his wings dropping down, revealing his body. And he was definitely male and definitely not human. He had dark hair and light skin that had an almost blueish undertone. And horns. He had freaking horns that jutted up from his head in a corkscrew pattern and ended in blunt points. Like they’d been filed down.
Looking closer, I realized his wings might not be actually black, but they were so covered in blood that they appear a shiny black color.
I skirted around the body to the door, my heart pounding, and hoping this guy wasn’t going to wake up and eat my spleen. I know I said I’d sacrifice it to get out of prison, but I didn’t mean it. Not like this.
“Hey, somebody tell me what the hell is going on.” I slapped my palm against the metal bar, then hissed when pain radiated across my hand. “Hey!”
A rustle sounded behind me, and I froze, unable to turn around. I hadn’t seen the winged guy’s face. Just his horns and the back of his head.
I needed to get a grip. Me and whatever—whoever—this was locked in here with me. With fear clawing up my throat, I turned. His wings ruffled and his back muscles rippled as he groaned.
I flattened my body as best I could against the bars of the door. A zap on my backside sent me leaping forward toward the winged guy. Laughter echoed behind me. The stupid guards had sent some kind of electric charge into me. But now I was a mere arm’s length from the creature.
The cell suddenly seemed even smaller than it did before. I sucked in a breath as he pushed up and rose in front of me. He blinked, one silver eye was bloodied and swollen almost shut. Bright, bluish blood trailed down his cut chest and ribbed stomach. Gashes and cuts crisscrossed across his body. He wore thin, prison pants over his—um—I jerked my attention back up to his chest.
The wounds appeared slightly healed now. They seemed to seal as I stared at them. The blood flow slowly stopped. He heaved like he was coming out of some deep, pain management mojo or something. Deep lines marred his wrists and ankles. So he was a prisoner like me?
He cringed, moving more until he was nearly standing.
Oh my god, he was massive as he bent at an odd angle to keep his horns and head from hitting the low ceiling. He looked like…like a freaking angel. Well, minus the horns.
My heart lurched.
I shuffled to the side to get around him when his arm shot out, grasping me around the throat and hauling me up in the air. I kicked at him, clawing at his hand. His good eye snapped to me, dilating like a cat about to pounce. I screamed—or tried to.
Nope, this guy was not an angel, he was a fucking devil.