Page 33 of Cosmic Power

She had no idea there were other prisoners stuck down here with her.

“I knew you had not forsaken me! My Lord and saviour, come to rescue me! Hallelujah!”

“Seriously, either shut your trap or I’ll do it for you,” the feminine voice growled, and Zamorra smiled.

“Go for it. It’d be a hell of a lot more entertaining than sitting here, twiddling my damn thumbs. Come on, come get me. Cell twenty-four.”

Zamorra had no idea what cell she was actually in, but she did always like to talk shit when the opportunity presented itself.

“These cells don’t have numbers, you nitwit. There aren’t even twenty-four in here.”

“Oh yeah, and how would you know?”

“I’ve been here for fifteen years, so I think I’d know.”

Zamorra drifted to the iron bars, being careful not to touch them. “Fifteen years?” she breathed in shock. “You’re kidding me.”

The woman snorted. “I wish. You’ve been bitching and moaning because you’ve been stuck down here a few days? You don’t have a clue whatrealboredom is.”

She couldn’t do that long. No fucking way. She really would go insane. She’d end up scratching her bloody eyes out.

“Why are you here?” Zamorra asked, trying not to lose her mind.

The idea of being stuck here for that long terrified her. She needed a distraction if she was going to keep her mind intact. And this woman provided the perfect one.

“I’m not looking to make friends, Chatty McCathy. I just wanted you to shut up for longer than thirty fucking seconds.”

Zamorra scoffed. “Neither am I, but I figure this could be a good way to pass the time. You can either talk to me or I can keep talking to myself. Doesn’t bother me either way, to be honest.”

The woman grumbled.

“Soooooo, why ya here?” Zamorra asked again.

She was met with silence.

“Come on, tell me. You know you wanna. Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell—”

“Alright!” she yelled. “I’ll tell you, just stop fucking talking,” she hissed.

Zamorra knew she was being annoying, but she honestly couldn’t help it. If she sat here in silence with nothing but her thoughts to distract her, she’d start to panic. To overthink things and worry about what it was that Barnabas wanted from her. Her mind could run rampant when left unchecked. Her werewolf was usually the one to pull her back from shit like this.

“Barnabas’ goons grabbed me while I was leaving the festivities surrounding the monthly Regent Meeting. I was on my way back to the Demon Kingdom—”

“No way! You’re a demon?!”

“Do you ever stop talking?!” the woman screeched.

“Sorry, jeez.”

“Yes, I’m a demon. Barnabas said he needed a demon to complete some stupid plan he has. He neglected to mention that said plan would take years to accomplish.”

Zamorra frowned. Barnabas had said something similar to her too; that he needed her for his grand master plan.

He needed a demon, too?

Okay, now she was really fucking stumped. What kind of plan did he have that required both a demon and a shifter? Where they the only ones, or did Barnabas have more supernaturals locked down here for his sick, twisted mind to fuck with.

“Did he say what that plan was? If there were any others he kidnapped for it?” Zamorra asked.

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