Page 115 of Spit

“He’s dead,” Mars said, his voice scratched out his throat. I could tell that it was painful for him to speak. “He won’t hurt you again.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him someone had already hurt me. “How are we going to get out?”

Quinn stirred on the other side of the room, finally waking up from whatever sedative Dr. Wise had given him

Both red-headed, Quinn’s face was slimmer and his brow heavier. Mars had a rounder face and eyes. Both were beyond attractive but in a dangerous kind of way. The way a tree frog was a beautiful array of colors, but you knew it would kill you if you licked it.

Neither man seemed to cut up about Dr. Wise’s death.

“I have a theory.” Mars placed his hand on his chest. Taking a breath so he could speak. He spluttered with the presence of the silver in the air. He put his hand to his mouth as he coughed, and his fingers came away bloody. Mars closed his fist and hid it behind his back as if he hoped we wouldn’t see. “When Alexis touched me earlier, I was able to hear Legion. Just for a moment.”

“That’s what that was?” I wondered, remembering the strange voice that had rung in my ears.

Mars nodded, his eyes shuttered. I held out my hand, and Mars took it in his grip. Nothing happened. Quinn reached over and placed his hand on mine. I tried to ignore that both men were naked and there was an expanse of muscular flesh on display, but I was only human, and the feeling of their skin on my cold hands was bliss.

“It’s not working,” I said; disappointment was a sinking weight in my chest.

“It appears not.” Quinn cocked his head to the side.

“Is there any way we can strengthen the bond?” I asked.

Both of the redheaded demons shared a glance. Quinn winced, and Mars shook his head.

“No,” Mars stated.

Quinn’s lips disappeared as if he was holding himself back.

“What is it?” My eyes narrowed. “Come on, if it gives us a shot of getting out of here before our lungs collapse, I’m all for it.”

Mars looked down at Dr. Wise and the sticky pool of blood haloing his head. “No.” The demon said again, his voice a quiet boom as he crossed his arms over his chest and marched to the corner, turning his back on both of us.

I flinched when I caught sight of the wounds on his back, even worse than the front. I shot Quinn a look of apology and followed Mars, putting my hand on his shoulder. The demon allowed my touch when he could have shrugged me off.

“What is it?” I murmured. “What’s bothering you?”

Mars shot me a look, and I was reminded of how ancient he truly was. “I might have been incapacitated, but I knew what that pitiful man tried to do to you.”

I had nothing to say to that, so I stayed silent.

Mars nodded as if confirming something to himself. “I smelt your fear. It was old fear that comes from wounds that refuse to heal.”

“I killed Dr. Wise,” I stated plainly, pretending I had no idea what he was talking about. Hoping that I could continue to ignore the truth. The truth about Dylan. The truth about my curse. “I don’t feel bad that I killed him.”

“You shouldn’t,” Mars told me as he turned to face me. He was a head taller, staring at me with an intensity that made me want to run away—like watching a tornado across the water as it raced towards you sucking up everything in its path. Too fascinating to turn away from.

“You kept me warm. You tried to protect me.” I said, my head tilted up to his.

Mars blinked slowly. He didn’t smile. He didn’t say a word. He just looked as if to say it was his duty—but I didn’t understand why that was.

“Tell me what you were going to suggest.” I urged. “Please.” My voice lowered to a breath.

Mars’s brow furrowed, and his teeth clicked together.

Quinn cleared his throat, and I glanced over my shoulder at the other demon. Quinn was toeing Dr. Wise’s dead body. “I might have another plan.”

Mars exhaled, his body flooding with relief.

“We paint a circle and call a hell denizen with this blood,” Quinn suggested. “This cell doesn’t have the same runes as the upstairs one. It might work.”

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