Page 114 of Lucifer's Mirror

“What are you going to do with me?” I ask.

He presses his lips together and studies me for a minute. “Apparently, you have the location of something that belongs to my… employer. He would like to have it back.”

“You’re taking me to him?”

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible. I’m to extract the information from you.”

Except Hecate says it’s impossible to do that because my memories haven’t come back. “How?”

“I’ll ask nicely. Then I’ll ask not-so-nicely. He wants you alive, but other than that…”

“I won’t tell you.” Can't tell him, more like it, but maybe I should keep that to myself for now. Presuming, of course, that Khaosti hasn’t revealed my lack of memories. Maybe Trystan will decide I have no worth if he doesn’t believe I can lead him to the mirror. Because I know that’s what he’s talking about.

He just gives me a nasty smile. “Maybe my new friends”—he waves a hand toward the watching shadows—“will help me. They don’t like you—apparently, you’ve caused them no end of trouble. And everyone breaks.”

Sweat oozes from my skin, and a shudder ripples through me. I’m sure he’s right. I don’t think I’ll do very well under torture. My mind shies away from even thinking about it. Except I don’t know where the freaking stupid mirror is. He can torture me as much as he likes, but it will make no difference.

Why the hell did I run? Why didn’t I go back to the house? Because I’m a freaking stupid idiot. And I was angry and hurt and… heartbroken. Because Khaosti made it clear he doesn’t care about me, and I’m falling in love with him.

What’s the point in going over it? It’s done.

I’m bound up tight and surrounded by shadowguard, and likely on my way to an extremely unpleasant fate. I want to ask why the bastard doesn’t get on with the torture thing, but I don’t want to put ideas into his head. Maybe he thinks there might be someone coming after us and wants to get as far away as possible before he gets down to business. But I doubt anyone is coming after me. They probably haven’t even realized I’m not there.

I glare at Trystan. “Khaosti will come after you. He’ll kill you.”

“I think he’ll be too busy to do that. If he’s still alive, that is.”

Shock flashes through me. “What did you do?”

“After we had you trussed up, I knocked out the wards and let a few of my associates in.”

My chest tightens. I think about all those innocent people back there—Erik and the others. Are they still alive? Is Khaosti alive? Though I suspect he’s more than capable of bringing down the shadowguard, especially with Thanouq at his back. What about Hecate? I have to presume they’re okay because, otherwise, I can’t think straight. But Trystan is right; likely they’re too busy to come after me right now, even if they have noticed I’m missing.

This is down to me. I can’t expect help from anyone else. I’m on my own.

It’s over. I’m as good as dead, and I’ll likely never know why.

“You’re working for Lucifer. Why? What do you get out of it?”

He smiles. “Khronus’s throne. I get to rule the Astral Plane.”

“Quite a step up for someone who’s little more than a servant.”

Something dark twists his expression; he jumps to his feet and closes the space between us. Lashing out, he kicks me in the stomach. Agony shoots through me, and I curl into a ball, waiting for him to strike again. When nothing happens, I open my eyes and stare up at him, not trying to hide my hatred.

“Get up,” he says. “We’re moving out.”

I’m not sure Icanget up. There’s a burning pain in my belly, as if something has ruptured.

“Now,” he snaps.

Biting my lip against the agony, I roll onto my hands and knees and use my tied hands to push myself up. I wobble a little but then stiffen my knees.

Trystan points. “Walk.”

I walk. Trystan follows close behind me. There’s a whisper of movement, like leaves rustling, and I glance back over my shoulder. The shadowguard are following; they seem to flow over the land.

I stumble, and Trystan prods me in the back. “Watch where you’re going. I’m not fucking carrying you again.”