Page 86 of Prince of Demons
“Come. He is waiting.”
She got out and frowned as she looked around. This place… why did it seem… familiar?
The demon by her side grabbed her by the elbow, his fingers still gentle, but the tug he gave her was firm.
Automatically, she followed him as he led her around the car—and she finally realized why this place seemed so familiar.
Ahead of them was a grim-looking warehouse, its roof covered in rusting corrugated steel. Atop the singular door, the word Hell flickered in red neon.
He’d brought her back to the brothel.
“Wait…” Confusion and a gut-level hit of dread made her feet falter. “Kesh said to meet him here? That… that can’t be right. Why would he?—?”
His hand around her elbow remained firm, the gentleness of his grip waning when his steps didn’t slow with hers and she was pulled along beside him. He didn’t look at her. Didn’t answer.
“Mallorn? Why are we meeting him here?” Her voice pitched higher, the dread solidifying. She dug in her heels. He grabbed her by the arms and slung her over his shoulder.
Too late, realization set in.
Kesh wasn’t waiting inside.
“No! No, what are you doing? No! You can’t do this, please, no!”
She screamed and kicked and fought to get off his shoulder. It was no use. He held her in place with no visible effort and carried her over the threshold, back into the nightmare she’d only narrowly escaped.
It was dark inside, the air frigid against her skin. No one sat at the reception desk this time, and as Mallorn’s long strides carried her down the long corridor with the makeshift chambers of horror lining each side. But though the smell of sex lingered, no one occupied the fluid-stained beds inside. The brothel was empty.
“Why is she screaming?” There was a voice up ahead—unfamiliar, but authoritarian. Disapproving. “Tell me you haven’t hurt the girl.”
“Of course I haven’t,” Mallorn growled. He carried her the last few paces, then put her down on her feet in a horribly familiar room: Jimmy the Pimp’s office. “She’s just familiar with this place. No woman willingly steps foot in a brothel twice.”
Georgia immediately tried to dart back out of the room, but Mallorn easily kept a hold of both her arms, rooting her in place.
“Let go of me!” She kicked at his shins, and connected, but he didn’t so much as flinch. He did, however, give her arms a small squeeze, as if to settle her. It didn’t have the desired effect, but the gentle contrast to the kidnapping he’d just performed startled her enough to cast a look around the room.
There were two men in there with them. One was heavy-set, wearing a pinstripe suit she recognized as easily as she did the calculating look in his eyes: Jimmy, in his human disguise. The other was a stranger—one with an intimidatingly tall and broad frame that somehow seemed to contain more mass than it could believably hold. A lord.
“She’s ‘been here before?’” There was dark ice in the stranger’s voice. Slowly, he turned his dark eyes toward Jimmy. “You whored a Pure Breeder?”
Jimmy swallowed and took a half-step backward. “N-no, of course not, Your Highness! I would never— There was a misunderstanding, you see. She was brought to me as payment for a debt. Once I realized what she was, of course I immediately changed any plans to work her. She’s untouched. I swear it.”
“Well. Not entirely untouched,” Mallorn grumbled.
The stranger shifted his focus to him, his black eyes narrowing slightly. “Not entirely…?”
“Prince Kesh had her. Released inside her. He would have claimed her, had I not interrupted.”
“The usurper’s brother is no more a prince than his brother is king. If you wish to live under my family’s benevolent protection, you will do well to remember this.” The lord held Mallorn’s gaze for a moment longer, then he turned his attention to her.
Instinctive fear ran up her spine the second his eyes connected with hers. They were cold, ruthless, despite the smile he offered her.
“Ah. Well. Mishaps happen, don’t they, little Breeder? We’ll have you tested for pregnancy, and should the mongrel’s seed have taken root… Well, there are remedies for that.” He inhaled softly, his smile tightening at the corners. “You reek of fear, sweet one. Please try not to. I don’t much enjoy the urges it brings up in me.”
Georgia stared up at him, the horror of his words filtering through her panic. Remedies. He was talking about… She hadn’t even considered the possible consequences of her wild, heat-fueled time with Kesh. Hadn’t had the presence of mind, with all that came after. But this stranger was right—she could be pregnant.
Her knees turned soft with fear, one hand finding its way to her abdomen on instinct alone.
The lord flattened his lips in an expression of overbearing annoyance. “Ah yes, my apologies. That was… indelicate of me. You are hard-wired to feel protective of any offspring, even if sired by a cretin. But worry not—if we do have to take unfortunate measures, you should be gestating again within your next cycle. Now, really. Do try to control your emotions. You’re making my skin… itch.”
