Page 23 of All the Devils are Here

“You’re here because I want you to be here. You have no idea the kind of magic it took to conjure that storm. So answering your question, no, we are not close enough to anything for you to go back. Even if we were, that is no longer an option for you.”

The storm was his fault? “That boat sank,” I said. “Peopledied.” There was no way for me to know if I was the only survivor, but given the strength of the waves, it was possible. “For someone who’s not special? I don’t have magic and I don’t have mates. I don’t have anything of value.”

“You have one thing,” he said simply. “You have the eye of someone I need. To put it plainly, you’re bait. And if you’re not bait, you’re the answer.”

“Who?” I shook my head. “I’m not—”

Lunging, he grabbed my wrist, and I yanked it away, sprinting to the door. I’d made it past Ariel once before. I could do it again.

“Stop her.”

I didn’t make it.

Ariel evaporated into smoke, only to appear with his arms around me and walk me back into the room. When he released me, I lunged again, but the maniac who’d conjured a fuckinghurricaneto kidnap me was ready this time.

Magic—it had to be magic because nothing else was touching me—yanked me backwards and forced me against the stone wall. My head cracked against it, causing the world to blur with pain. When I opened my eyes, I saw Ban’s feline form writhing on the floor, attempting to overcome whatever power was holding him there, and Ariel was watching me with sorrow in his eyes.

You shouldn’t get on this boat.

He’d tried to warn me, and I hadn’t listened. But how could I have known it was this?

“I didn’t want to do this,” the older man said, approaching me. His hands were spread wide like I was the one who was dangerous here. Light glowed at his fingertips. I didn’t believe him.

“But I need your help, and it doesn’t seem like you’ll offer it willingly. Ariel, hold her.”

The spirit’s gaze snapped away from me and to the man in front of me, but he didn’t move. “You seem like you have her well under control.”

“It wasn’t a request. Hold her still and make sure she doesn’t move.”

Ariel’s body vanished into nothing but dark, shifting mist, leaving nothing but his head and shoulders behind. He glared at the magician, but he started to move toward me, and when his gaze locked with mine again, what I saw was pure, feral rage. Along with grief.

Devastation.

“This isn’t necessary,” Ariel said. “Don’t do this.”

The older man glared at him, and Ariel’s body lurched forward like he’d been shoved, though there was nothing behind him.

I shook my head, pleading. The magic still held me against the stone, and I couldn’t move. Dread dripped down my spine. “Don’t. Please.”

The dark mist pressed against my body, his hands reforming over my wrists as they reappeared and the other magic released me. Now Ariel’s dark presence was the one holding me in place, and I shoved against him, trying to find the strength to push awaysmoke, and it didn’t work.

“Please, Ariel, don’t do this.” I echoed his own words. “I don’t belong here. You told me that. Help me.” Over his shoulder, the magician was only a step away, and desperation took over. Tears flooded my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. How naïve was I that I’d thought he’d wanted to help me?

I didn’t know what was going to happen, but the casual look on the man’s face terrified me. He didn’t care what this would do to me. I was nothing to him. “Please, Ariel. Make him stop.”

Ariel’s lips found my ear with words so quiet I was the only one who could hear them. “I’m so sorry. I don’t have a choice. It’s okay. It will be all right, I promise. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

“Stop,” I begged.

His voice was agony. “Ican’t.”

A second hand gripped my wrist, and both heat and pain surged through my skin. I screamed, Ariel pressing himself more firmly against me.

Raw fire consumed my hand, tearing through blood and bone and breaking me apart. I might have screamed, but the pain was bad enough I couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of my heart in my ears. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt. Worse than any injury I’d ever had.

“Breathe.” The words were a command I obeyed out of desperation. “It doesn’t last long.”

“Fuck you,” I spat the words out as the pain ceased in one wrist and appeared in the other. It felt like putting your hand on a hot burner and not pulling away. Like the man was cutting my handoffwith a jagged blade.

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