Page 6 of Cage Me

These demon dragons searching for her weren’t any worse than the gang bangers in her old neighborhood in Chicago. They were definitely as dumb and as easily manipulated by power and violence. She’d seen that first hand. Back then and right now.

The Black Dragon chopped off the head of another demon dragon with a flick of its tail while Azy watched incognito. It too disintegrated into a pile of black ash like the three before it. Then the Black Dragon shifted back into its human form, a darkly evil man on a mission. Kur-Jara, the king of hell. “The rest of you find that girl or I’ll slice each and every one of your heads from your worthless bodies.”

Yeah. She was that girl.

The demon dragons scattered and Azy shrunk back into the hidey hole she’d climbed into a few hours before. The light from the pools of lava didn’t quite reach up here and her dark skin helped her to blend in. The only thing that could give away her position was the light that continued to sparkle in the crystal she wore around her neck.

She would never take it off. It was the only thing keeping her alive down here. That and her street smarts. Every time she grasped the shard in her hand, which was pretty much constantly so it’s light wouldn’t be visible, a sense of hope filled her, kept her going.

Without it she would have given up days ago.

“They won’t find her, father.” The woman’s voice carried up through the rocks and directly into Azy’s ears. “She’s not here.”

That woman and the sacrifice she’d made for Azynsa was the sole reason for staying in this literal hell hole.

“Fallyn, my little red devil. You said she was.” His tone was like an irritated parent trying to get a recalcitrant child to tell him where she’d hidden his car keys.

Azy had done that once, with the keys to her father’s police cruiser. Even threats that he’d put her in jail, which she’d believed at the time he could do, didn’t convince her to give them back.

Fallyn was no child. She was over a hundred and fifty years old but looked like she was only a few years older than Azy’s twenty-three years.

The scars on Fallyn’s back from Kur-Jara’s fire whip were the only mar on her beautiful curvy body.

Fallyn tipped her head to the side as if thinking. “She is.”

“Which is it?” Kur-Jara growled.

Fallyn glanced up and looked Azy straight in the eye. The hot air in the cavern evaporated, or maybe Azy forgot to take another breath. Would Fallyn finally give her away, betray her after all?

“Both. Neither. She’s here. But, she isn’t.”

Another much older woman joined them. She was the one to be afraid of. A black witch,theBlack Witch.

She scanned the area, but didn’t spot Azy, even though she’d looked right into the hiding spot, just the same as Fallyn did. The witch crossed to Fallyn, throwing a glare at Kur-Jara and wrapped an arm around her.

“Child, use your gift for me, to tell us where she is. You know how important it is that we find her. She could be the key to making those horrible dragon warriors pay for everything they have done to us. You want that don’t you?”

Fallyn blinked and frowned. “It doesn’t work that way with her. She’s here and there. Mated and not.”

Kur-Jara growled and stomped around the small cavern. Such a whiny bitch.

“That’s why we need her, dammit. If we control her, we control her dragon. I want that soul.”

Fallyn shrugged, not intimidated by Kur-Jara even a little. “I could tell you where she is. But, she isn’t there.”

Even Azy wasn’t sure at this point whether Fallyn was friend or foe, lying, playing games, or just damn crazy-pants.

Azy would be a slobbering mess, sporting a straight-jacket, chilling in her padded room, if she’d been raised by these two fucktards. Her money was on that Fallyn was completely insane, like we’re talking Harley Quinn obsessed with the Joker cuckoo for cocoa puffs insane.

And it was partly Azy’s fault.

“Talk some sense into her, crone. She does what you want. Brat.” He snarled at Fallyn but didn’t strike her. She was the only one who he seemed to be able to control his violence toward. Even the Black Witch wasn’t safe from his rages.

“Then send some of your Annanuki to my chamber. I need fuck at least three of four of them to work off my frustration over this bitch of a mermaid, and,” he glanced at the black stains on the floor, “my army is dwindling.” Kur-Jara stomped off.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph. The things she’d seen and heard down here, skulking around and trying to stay hidden. If she ever escaped, she should write a book.

God, she missed books.

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