Page 103 of Lust

Not even Rowena fucking Bagshot.

51

GRUESOME RITUAL

QUINN

I’ve been burned through before. My entire body once collapsed in on itself because of the burning poison Anthura inflicted on me and now, because of her, I’m going to have to go through the same thing, except this time my body will burn from the outside in. And this time I don’t get to fall down unconscious and be taken to the hospital wing. This time I either save them despite the pain or my body burns to ashes and everyone gets tortured for eternity.

The prospect is as terrible as it is terrifying, but there is no decision to make. I’m going to be tortured whatever I do, so I might as well make it mean something.

I take a deep breath. “I love you!” I scream as I run forward into Hades’ light.

The searing maelstrom engulfs me in an instant, igniting my body with insurmountable fire, robbing me of breath, and flooding my lungs with torment. The blinding pain forces my eyes shut, casting me into darkness as I navigate solely by touch and instinct.

“I love you too!” I hear twin voices tell me as I reach Hades.

I can’t speak through the pain, so I have to feel up his arm to where he’s manacled.

“Don’t use the keys yet, Valentine. Pull the knives from Hades first. It’s the only way to stop the light.”

My fingers are already charred and swollen and there’s a horrible hissing sound reminiscent of bacon frying in a pan that my body is making as it blisters. A surge of panic overwhelms me, causing the keys to slip from my grasp, clattering to the floor. Swiftly, I wrest the knives free, flinging them to the ground. With each pull, Hades body heals slightly, and as his wounds heal, the light stops shining. But there are so many knives and so many points of light that each one feels like an eternity to pull out. I’m gripping four or five at a time, using both hands to yank them and fling them to the floor, but my body is breaking up.

Every facet of this gruesome ritual resounds with horror and agony. My skin is sloughing from my body and the flesh underneath is oozing to the floor, sizzling and spitting. There’s nothing about this that isn’t horrific and excruciating, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to keep yanking. I can’t see them, but I can feel that it’s not just knives that have cut through Hades’s body. I pull pieces of sharp glass, swords, and even darts from him. As the room becomes darker, I try to open my eyes, but as I do, my eyes fizzle and with horror, I lose both of them to the light. I choke with terror and my throat fills with the smoke of my own body burning.

All the while, I hear words of encouragement from both Dade and Twila, but eventually, I can’t hear anything beyond the sound of my body hissing and popping and fizzling.

“My hand, Quinn!” Hades’ voice cuts through the noise and I’m not sure if I’m hearing him or if his voice is only in my head. It’s the first words he’s spoken since I came in here.

Summoning my final reserves of strength, I extend my hand, seizing the nail embedded in his palm. I scream out a dying breath as I pull on it, leveraging my full body weight. And then, in a moment that feels both endless and fleeting, it's over. My bones in my fingers crumble to ash and I fall backwards onto the floor and turn to dust.

52

A DANCE OF DECEPTION

ROWENA

Letting Juliette rip my skirt off was a moment of madness, but it was all too clear that Felix needed a nudge. Now, though, feeling the fabric of his suit on my almost bare legs is a torment in itself. He dances amazingly. Of course he does. He excels at everything, and thanks to the numerous dance lessons I took in Purgatory, amazingly I keep up with him. In my peripheral vision, I see everyone watching us. The contestant’s eyes are fixated on us as they waltz past and the demons lining the walls can’t keep their eyes from us. It would be a dream if it wasn’t for the venom in Felix’s eyes. We’re locked in a dance of deception shrouded in layers of disdain. The lilting melody of the waltz seems to taunt us, a cruel reminder of our situation, as our eyes lock in a silent battle of wills. “This doesn’t mean anything.” Felix hisses. “We need to win. That’s all.” He rests his hand on my waist. His touch sends an unexpected shiver down my spine, an involuntary reaction that I quickly mask.

I grimace. “I’d believe you if it wasn’t for your dick pressing into my thigh.” It’s not, but I’m in a bad mood and sick of him minimalizing everything.

He twirls me and I gracefully spin away from him. Not far enough away.

“Bitch!”

I move back to his side. “Disgusting ass-wipe.”

I allow him to lead me through the intricate turns and graceful twists, my body poised as if under the sway of his control. In return, he masks his hostility with practiced charm, his gaze fixed on me as we put on a show for the audience.

His eyes are narrowed in anger and his grip on me is tight to the point of pain. “After this dance, I won’t have to speak to you again.”

“Please stop,” I deadpan. “You’re turning me on!”

He really is. Desire courses through me, setting my senses ablaze in a way that I both crave and despise. My mutinous body is enjoying the thrill of being so close to Felix and yet I’m forcing myself to look unruffled as he tries everything he can to hurt me.

“I’m going to fuck Anthura’s brains out after this,” he snaps, his words laced with irritation “Just so you know.”

It’s meant to wound me and I really despise that it does. I keep my expression as neutral as possible. “That shouldn’t take too long, which I suppose is good news for you.”

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