Page 73 of Insatiable

I slump back down, placing my plate on the table and folding my arms defiantly. “So we just give up and die, then?” I pout.

“I’ll take you to Hades,” Twila says, “but he’s not the only one you’ll need to win over. There’s also Ballam and…”

“Anthura,” Ro finishes for her.

There’s a moment of silence around the room. No one knows more than Ro how unlikely it is for Anthura to be on her side… on any of our sides. Anthura hates like it’s an Olympic sport, but she holds a special place in her cold dead heart for Rowena who dared to sleep with her plaything.

It’s a somber mood when a demon waiter tries to wrestle my food away from me, only succeeding when I realize he’s trying to give me dessert.

“At least when I die, I’ll die happy,” I muse, taking a bite out of the dessert which tastes somewhere between chocolate fudge cake and heaven.

We all eat quietly. Partly because there is nothing else to say and partly because the food is too delicious to waste by talking. Eventually, we all finish and there’s nothing left for us to do. We have to go face the Leadership Team of the Inferno Games and let them decide our fates.

32

IN THE DEN OF DEMONS

ROWENA

My nerves are chattering as we enter the demon’s lounge. The last demon lounge I was in, we were chained to the walls and left as demon fodder. It’s clear that I’m not the only one remembering that as we follow Twila. The air is thick with a heady mix of smoke and something sweet—perhaps incense or the lingering scent of overindulgence. Dim, flickering lights cast eerie shadows across the room, revealing groups of demons lounging on opulent, crimson velvet sofas, their eyes gleaming with hunger as they glance in our direction.

“Keep your heads down and don’t make eye contact,” Dade murmurs, his voice low and tense. As if I need reminding. I get the feeling that it’s only Twila’s presence that’s stopping the demons from lunging at us. I can feel Juliette's hand tighten around mine as we weave through the tables, each step making my heart race faster.

“Maybe they won’t notice us,” I whisper, though I know it’s a futile hope. We’re fresh meat in a den of predators and have a dog with three heads trailing us. Just as I say this, a demon withglittering scales and a wicked grin leans over, his eyes locking onto mine.

“Look what we have here,” he says, his voice smooth like silk but dripping with malice. “A little snack for the evening.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry. “We’re just passing through,” I stammer, my instincts screaming at me to run, but the weight of Dade’s grip on my shoulder keeps me rooted in place.

“Passing through?” the demon echoes, leaning back in his seat, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder. “Where’s the fun in that? We don’t often get visitors down here who aren’t already on the menu.”

Before I can respond, Twila steps forward and places herself between me and the demon. “We’re here on business,” she declares, her voice steady.

The demon raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not yet convinced. “Business, you say? And what business exactly would that be?”

Twila hesitates, glancing back at us before continuing. “I’m here with Hades, as you well know. If you lay a finger on me or my friends, he’ll have you flayed.”

The demon’s grin widens, revealing rows of sharp teeth. “I don’t see Hades here now.”

My heart sinks, dread pooling in my stomach as the tension thickens. Cerby lets out a low growl. With a scaly finger, the demon reaches out and trails it down Twila’s cheek leaving a scorch mark. She recoils from his touch, but before she can regain her composure, his hand is suddenly slapped away.

A long breath escapes my lips when I see Hades towering over the slender demon.

“Maybe you should invest in an optician, Danak,” he says, his voice low and commanding.

“Yes, sorry, sir,” the demon stammers, dropping from his chair into a low bow.

Hades leans closer, his expression darkening. “You will be very sorry if you even think about touching a hair on her head again.”

The demon sniffles incoherently before Hades kicks him clear across the room. I cheer inwardly at the sight of the demon being sent flying, but my relief vanishes when I notice that Hades’ anger is now directed at us.

“Come with me,” he orders.

We all scramble to keep up as he strides toward a private room at the back of the lounge. It’s dark and smoky and, though as opulent as the Brimstone Bistro, has an air of unkemptness.

“Sit!” Hades commands. The four of us sit on a plush velvet covered bench seat.

“What is the meaning of this? How did you even get here?”

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