Page 5 of Prince of Demons
More sobbing rang through the warehouse from multiple directions, along with unmistakably rhythmic slaps of flesh against flesh. The smell assaulting her nostrils was a mixture of blood, decay, and sex.
“What is this place?” she asked, even as that neon sign flashed in her memory. Hell. She had a sinking feeling that perhaps that was intended a bit more literally than she’d initially thought.
“Does it matter? You wanted your brother healed—this is where you’ll find the cure to save him.” There was nothing soothing about the look Lewin gave her, but… Larry.
Her heart gave an achy spasm as a flash of memories of his easy laugh flickered for her mind’s eye. When Lewin pulled her along by his tight grip on her shoulder, she didn’t resist.
They headed down a narrow, makeshift corridor flanked by five-by-eight cubicles on both sides. Each opening was covered with rough-spun fabric, but the sobs, grunts, and fleshy smacks from within ruined any semblance of privacy. About midway down the corridor, one of the curtains was only half-pulled, and what transpired inside confirmed, with all too much clarity, what the sounds and smells had already revealed.
A human woman was strapped to the wall of the tiny cubicle, her wrists secured over her head and her knees pulled up and out to the sides, leaving her spread open and unable to escape the monster in there with her.
He was big—much bigger than Lewin, with many more demonic features, his skin scaly and black, leathery wings flexing from his muscled back as he drove into the helpless woman, ignoring her babbling pleas for mercy.
Georgia dug her nails into her palms and forced herself to keep walking. Her stomach clenched with empathy as the woman’s tormented voice was lost in the cacophony of human cries echoing from every cubicle they passed. Gross as Lewin’s payment for her contract was, at least it wasn’t that.
Perhaps… Perhaps when Larry was okay again, she could try to save them. Somehow. Alert the police. Even if they didn’t see the demonic features of the males brutalizing the women trapped here, they would do something. They would have to.
They reached the end of the corridor and stopped in front of a closed door. Lewin drew in a deep breath, as if steadying himself, before he rapped his knuckles against it with his free hand.
It swung open two seconds later, and someone snarled, “What?” from within. A huge, burly demon, with features not unlike the one they’d just passed in that cubicle, took up most of the doorframe, his bumpy forehead locked in a glower. His eyes narrowed further when they landed on Lewin. “You again? You’ve gotta be shitting me.”
Georgia let out an involuntary squeak at the monster’s sudden closeness and made to scramble backwards, but Lewin’s hold on her shoulder kept her in place.
“I’m here to see Jimmy. Got a trade for him,” Lewin said. His Adam’s apple bobbed under the newcomer’s glare, but he raised his chin. “He’s gonna want to take this meeting, Irral.”
The bigger demon arched an eye-ridge before he took a half-step back. “It’s your funeral.”
Lewin crept sideways through the door, dragging Georgia along.
“Now, now. What do we have here?” a drawling, nasal voice sounded from inside the moment they stepped through. “Lewin the Grave-robber. I thought I made it perfectly clear what would happen if I saw you in my establishment again.”
Georgia darted her gaze from the huge demon in the door toward the speaker—and clenched her jaw. There were two more monsters in the room. One was the approximate size and shape of Irral and stood casually, leaning against a closed door on the opposite side of the room. Another demon, more rotund than the others, sat behind a large mahogany desk far too opulent for the grimy warehouse. A pinstriped suit clung tightly to his body, the jacket gaping open between straining buttons as he leaned forward, his small, beady eyes fixed on Lewin. A thick gold chain completed the impression of a low-budget movie mafioso. Only the redness of his gaze and yellowed claws on his fingers gave away his true nature, but that cool, calculating look in his eyes made him no less terrifying than his two burlier companions.
“I know, I know. But I can pay this time, I swear,” Lewin said. He forced Georgia forward with him, stopping only a few feet from the large desk. “I’ve got a contract you’re gonna want a bite of, Jimmy.”
“What?” Georgia turned to the demon by her side, that sense of foreboding that had pounded in her blood since she saw where he brought her turning to a dull throb low in her gut. “My contract is with you. You can’t share me.”
Jimmy’s cold eyes finally moved to her, flicking over her for less than two seconds. “You bring me an untrained cunt? You broke one of my most prized girls, and you think I’ll just, what, swap her out for whatever street whore you’ve picked up and we’ll call it a day? Do you know how much money I’ve lost out on while she’s been unable to fuck? How long it takes to break in a new girl?”
“This one’s worth it,” Lewin said. His fingers digging deeper into her arm were the only indication that he’d heard her protest. “She can see us. What we really are.”
Jimmy froze, gaze whipping back to meet Georgia’s. Excitement bloomed in it, along with unmistakable greed. “She can what?”
“It’s true—she clocked me, no probs.” Lewin seemed a bit less panicked, since the big brute who’d been advancing on him had also turned to stare at Georgia. “Ask her.”
Jimmy raised up from his chair, surprisingly nimble for his size, and waddled around the desk to them, those red eyes never leaving hers. When he stopped in front of her, he held out a hand and offered her a smile that held no warmth. “Come to me, my dear. Don’t be afraid.”
Georgia didn’t move so much as an inch toward him. A shrill scream broke through the underlying cries and moans drifting into the makeshift office from the warehouse beyond, making her heart thump unevenly in her chest. Don’t be afraid—said the creep who had God knew how many women tied down like sacrificial offerings for horny demons. Yeah, hard pass on getting any closer.
“This is not our deal,” she said as evenly as she could muster, turning her attention back to the demon who still had his claws in her. “You said you only wanted my… fluids, and you’d heal Larry in return. I only signed your contract to save my brother—and it doesn’t say shit about selling me.”
“Don’t tell me you signed a contract for nothing more than her fluids,” Jimmy said, annoyance tainting his voice. He snapped his fingers. “Show me the paperwork.”
“How dumb do you think I am?” Lewin muttered. He reached into his jacket with his free hand and produced the now slightly crumbled piece of paper she’d signed.
One of the large goons snatched it from him and took it to his boss—but his eyes stayed glued to Georgia.
Jimmy unfolded the contract, tsking as he smoothed the paper with his hand before skimming his red gaze over it. An unpleasant smile hiked up the corner of his mouth.
