Page 142 of Their Demon

They both muttered curses as we rushed through the entryway to the floor-level seating, stopping short at the waist-high stone walls as we saw Lillian rise from underground to the middle of the arena. We couldn’t actually see her, dust flying around her, but I knew it was her.

When the dust settled, she was left standing alone out there, looking from one side of the arena to the other as the crowd went crazy. She wasn’t facing us, so I couldn’t read her expression, but I could feel her fear.

“She’s not hurt,” I told my brothers with relief. “But she is terrified.”

“Of course, she is. Who wouldn’t be?” Aiden said.

“We’ve gotta get out there,” Nicholas said in a hushed voice.

He started to scale the wall separating the crowd from the arena, but I grabbed his shoulder, gesturing at the guard several feet away, who was watching us closely, waiting for an excuse to pull his sword.

“Wait. Look.” I pointed at the man responsible for this, our father.

He was on a raised, enclosed platform maybe forty feet from where Lillian stood. He loved looking down on his victims, and that’s still what he saw her as after all this time.

“If he fucking hurts her…” Aiden started.

“I am so pleased to see such a large crowd for this wonderful event!” our father told the crowd, a microphone in hand.

“He always has to put on a show,” I muttered as the gears in my head started turning, trying to come up with some sort of plan to rescue our girl.

“I do hope you find the show enjoyable. I know I will be having heaps of fun myself.” He looked at Lillian, pointing the microphone away from his mouth as he mouthed something to her that we couldn’t decipher.

Whatever he said made her turn her head, her eyes quickly catching on us. She tried to remain stoic, her tactic for dealing with our father, but I could see her true emotions bubbling to the surface.

Lillian.

Keir.

I breathed out a breath of relief. Hearing her voice in my head was something I would never take for granted again.

Are you okay, princess?

I’m scared. He hasn’t told me anything, Keir. I have no idea what’s coming. I’m freaking out.

“We have an extra special event as the third and final trial for the human,” my father continued, riling up the crowd.

It's okay. We are going to get you. Just give us a minute to figure out a plan.

She didn’t say anything before she turned her head back to our father. He looked over at us for a second, pure evil radiating from him.

“For her third and final trial, the human must take the life of an innocent.” Our father smiled proudly, as though this demented idea had been his plan all along.

The crowd cheered loudly, the prospect of bloodshed exciting them. They were ready to see someone die for their entertainment. It made my blood boil.

Lillian would never kill an innocent; that wasn’t who she was. Watching our father kill the unhatched hippocampus nearly destroyed her. There was no way she’d do it herself. She’d sooner die than take an innocent life, which was why we had to figure something out.

“And we have a special person picked out for her too, someone sure to spice up the show,” he chuckled as the rumble of another piece of the floor rising through the trapdoor sounded.

The person brought forward, just behind Lillian, was shoved to their knees, bound with rope, helpless to the situation as their long black hair flowed in the wind.

No.

“Holy shit, that’s Ida,” Nicholas whispered.

“Mom!” We heard Mavis’s worried scream from somewhere up above, close.

Lillian was already shaking her head, which made our father smile.

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