Page 52 of Immortal Throne

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Istared at the portal to the second trial, ignored the wailing sirens of my premonition magic, and waited for the pain medication to kick in. My head pounded and my vision wavered. Getting drunk last night hadn’t been my best decision, but I’d been known to make worse choices.

The alcohol let me relax and helped me sense this weird tingle that Chupey assured me was my demon magic. It felt similar to the premonition magic I embraced in the cage and the anger I grabbed onto when I formed the portal to bring me to Hell, so once I recognized the similarity, reaching for it became easier and easier.

And I got drunker and drunker.

Miraculously, I only punched Zane once for making fun of me for tongue wrestling with Ryker before the first trial.

I met this morning with a headache and upset stomach, my mind so fuzzy, I hadn’t put up an argument when Chupey and Zane chose my outfit for today.

So now I stood in front of the golden archway for the second trial in my tight shorts, layers of tank tops, and leather boots. At least I’d managed to braid my hair away from my face, the long red plaits falling down my back.

My image in the mirror still shocked me. In the light, my red hair almost had a pinkish tone and when I gripped my demonic magic, my eyes flickered as if they contained live fire. But at least I still looked like me. Mostly. I hadn’t sprouted horns like most of the demons in the Underworld.

The crowd of contending demons had thinned out considerably. Apparently, a ton of demons didn’t even make it through the portal, and only half of those who did managed to return. Of those survivors, a number of demons decided not to return for the second trial. Instead of a throne room packed with competition, only about a quarter remained.

Unfortunately, Mobius was one of them. He stood a few feet away, murder still evident in his red gaze.

I blew him a kiss.

“Rough night?” Ryker stepped up to stand beside me. He kept his gaze forward, studying the second portal. He wore leather pants and a matching studded vest that looked more like armor than a shirt.

“Fuck you.”

“Say that again.” He leaned closer. “I like how it sounds.”

A shiver spread over my body, not from fear, but anticipation. God, I hated him. And I hated myself, too. “Why do you have to be such a dick?”

“Demon, remember?”

The magic for portal number two snapped into existence and a swirl of red filled the space inside the golden archway. A large demon with claw-like hands and flaming red eyes stood beside the portal. He didn’t speak. Instead, a slow smile spread across his face.

I raised my eyebrows. The last portal had been blue and involved water. Lots of water. So much water, I had a lovely nightmare about it. If this one was red, what would it mean? Fire?

“Ifrit,” Ryker noted. “Demon of the dead.”

“What does that mean?”

“Failure will be painful.”

Yeah, I didn’t like the sound of that.

“Let’s go.” Ryker nodded toward the portal. “But you’re on your own this time.”

Ignoring Ifrit’s creepy grin, I shouldered past Ryker and, without hesitation, marched through the portal.

I fell flat on my face, my forehead smacking against solid rock. Heat singed my hair and smothered my body. I pushed up from the rough surface and froze. Mere inches away from my face, magma bubbled and popped. Droplets of red, viscous liquid plopped down on the rocks and solidified.

If I had landed even slightly more forward, if I had sucked just a little more at walking through portals, my head would be melted in magma right now.

Shuffling away from the edge, I stood up and brushed the loose dirt from my shorts and legs. I stood on a rocky platform in some sort of valley. A sheer rock face rose up all around me while steam lifted off the burbling magma and made the air thick with heat. I was in some sort of a narrow ravine.

Sweat already dripped from my face and ran down my arms and legs.

Hah! I bet Ryker was melting in his warrior outfit.

I scanned the area and found him smirking at me from another platform a few feet away. The other contestants stood on similar platforms, positioned in a semi-circle in the magma, their expressions more hostile than Ryker’s.

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