Page 8 of Prince of Demons
“As you wish.” Irral grabbed her above the elbow, his scaly hand like an iron band around her muscles. She flinched away from him on instinct, but Loyt crowded her in on the other side, blocking her off. He didn’t touch her, but he didn’t need to. His nearness was enough to remind her that she would not be able to run from this.
Not that she could, even if she’d had the chance. Not before Larry was okay.
Georgia didn’t struggle as they pulled her through the door and into another room filled with file cabinets and what looked like a safe, then out another door and into a narrow corridor made up of stud walls. The sound of female cries still echoed from further back in the warehouse, but she pushed them to the background until all she could hear was her own harsh breathing and the rush of blood in her ears.
Whatever happened next, she would get through it. For Larry.
The demons only stopped after dragging her through a steel door and into a room clad in metal rather than drywall. Unlike the corridors and Jimmy’s office, it had a ceiling, and when the door closed behind them, the sounds of sobbing women abruptly cut off.
“Get her on the bench,” Jimmy ordered, moving from behind them toward the middle of the room, pausing next to what looked like a medical examination couch—complete with stirrups and buckled leather straps on both ends.
“You can’t be serious.” The protest left her on a wheezing exhale. Her lungs constricted painfully, making it hard to breathe. It didn’t get any easier when she forced her eyes from the bench to the rest of the room. An array of devices hung on the wall and lay spread out on a wooden tabletop pushed up against the far corner. They looked like something out of a medieval dungeon. Of the especially awful variety.
“It’ll be over soon,” Irral murmured, the softness of his voice a sharp counterpoint to his grip on her arm. He pulled her forward, and when her legs refused to move on their own and she stumbled, lifted her with a grip on both her biceps and carried her the final few steps.
“No.” The word escaped before she could fully form the denial in her mind. “I don’t want this. Not… not this.”
“I thought you wanted your brother to live?” There was a taunt in Jimmy’s voice. He gestured to the two other demons, then turned to the table in the corner. “Besides, this is a great honor. Only my most valuable whores get ringed—and they have to work long and hard to earn it. You, my golden goose, get one from first fuck. Sure, there’ll be a little pain now, a little humiliation, but I suspect you’ll be grateful soon enough. Horny demons can get a little, shall we say, enthusiastic. I’m given to understand that bedding one can be rather unpleasant without a ring.”
She did want Larry to live. More than anything.
But when Irral held her still so Loyt could pull off her jeans and underwear, and they then lifted her onto the bench, there was nothing she could do to keep back the tears.
She stared straight up into the ceiling, blurred by her tears, and the single lightbulb illuminating the room while they tied her wrists above her head and forced her legs wide. The stirrups pushed into her insteps as they restrained her ankles. When they tightened the leather straps around her thighs, she bit down on her cheek until she tasted blood.
For Larry. For Larry, for Larry, for Larry.
“Fuck, Jimmy, she’s crying,” Loyt growled. He reached for her just-bound wrist as if to undo the strap, but flexed his clawed digits above the leather instead. “This ain’t right.”
“Of course she’s crying,” Jimmy sighed. “She sold her cunt. Don’t tell me you’re growing a conscience, just because the little twat’s a Breeder. The last whore you broke in sobbed like a baby while you were on her—didn’t seem to give you any pause then, hmm?”
“Jimmy, come on, man.” Irral made an agitated gesture at her teary face. “We’re not like you. We can’t fucking help it. She’s a Breeder. If she cries, we’re fucking hardwired to stop it!”
“Satan’s tits,” Jimmy growled. He returned from the table, entering her field of vision as he stepped between her and Irral. “That’s what I get for surrounding myself with primitive idiots. Get out. Go put your dicks in a bucket of ice water if your pea-sized brains need the blood supply. She’ll be ringed and begging for it soon enough, and if you two breathe another protest, you won’t get a single go on her. Understood? You want a taste of Breeder cunt, you get the hell out. Now.”
Both goons hesitated, their dark eyes darting from her to their boss. Finally, Loyt whispered, “You’ll let us have her? Truly?”
Jimmy rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Of course. You know how I operate. You stay loyal, you get a share in the profits. But if you’d rather trade your yearly bonus for a one time lay with my little prize sow, then I won’t stand in your way. After she’s taken a few hundred paying customers, of course.”
The two of them looked at each other, looked at her. There was a flicker of regret in both their gazes, but it wasn’t strong enough. Without another word, they left.
That moment’s hesitation should have filled her with some semblance of hope. If they didn’t like her crying, perhaps they could be persuaded to help her escape. But it seemed whatever sense of discomfort they had in the face of her fear, it wasn’t stronger than the desire to take their share of her. If they could be convinced to free her, it wouldn’t be before they’d had their payment.
A few hundred customers. Would there even be anything but an empty shell left to save?
“Well. I’ll grant they’re not my cleverest subordinates, but they are loyal,” Jimmy said. He gave her a smirk, as if they were sharing a joke. “It’s possibly not surprising that’s a rare thing in our world. I can put up with a few primitive instincts for that.” His smirk turned sharper. “Ridiculous as they may be. It’s not as if those two idiots would have had any clue what you are, if they hadn’t been told. They can’t smell you—it’s all in those empty noggins of theirs.”
“Smell me?” She wasn’t entirely sure why she asked. She didn’t want to know any more about their depraved customs, but he was holding something in one clawed hand that gleamed metallic. Any distraction from the horrors that were about to befall her was welcome.
Jimmy waved his empty hand in a dismissive gesture. “Awakened Breeders smell irresistible to male demons. It’s part of the magic in a blinding mark. To amp up your natural pheromones and ensure you get mated frequently and produce plentiful offspring. "
He saw her horrified expression and gave her a thin smile. “Don’t worry—I’m not about to let anyone knock you up, little goose. And there will be no blinding mark either. Your pretty cunt’s all the encouragement these idiots need to part with their coin—too much and they might start getting ideas about claiming themselves a mate. Then I’ll have to kill them, and I’m down a customer… You see how that’s bad for business, right?”
Georgia didn’t answer.
“Well, best get on with it.” He smiled a little wider, showing off small, yellowed fangs when his words made her squirm against her bindings. “Now, now. You’ve got nothing to worry about, little goose. I’m not gonna feed on you. It’s just a small pinch.”
Her racing heart didn’t calm down at his syrupy tone, nor when he opened his hand to reveal what he’d picked up from the table: a wicked-looking metal clamp.
