Page 57 of Malicent (Seven Devils #1)

Cage

THAT’S IT. I AM GOING to kill this bitch.

I fantasized about it the entire time I rubbed her feet. I could make it slow and peel back every layer of skin until only bone remained.

Or quick. I could snap her neck like a twig, but where’s the fun in that?

I sat quietly, listening as they spoke, watching to see if Millicent could actually extract any useful information. Fights are loud and messy—the opposite of what Felix commands. It’s easier to fake my compulsion and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Arella was telling the truth, that much I knew. I was in her head as well as in everyone else’s in the room.

What did Millicent not know? That Arella had Kalix. Which is very, very bad for everyone involved.

I discard the trash against the wall. I hope her ribs cracked in the process; maybe she’ll stay down this time so I can focus on Arella.

The moment she asks how I’m free is the last thing she says.

Power pulses through me. With the beat of my heart, rings ripple outward, sharp and fast. At lightning speed, they slice clean through the torsos. Some take heads. Bodies fall over, impacts are echoed by wet thumps of blood pooling on the floor.

I run a hand through my hair smoothing back a few wild strands before I turn my attention back to my pet.

Her hand drops from her ribs, trying to hide the pain.

Too late. I prowl toward her, locked in on my injured prey.

“Up,” I command.

She exhales a sharp, reluctant huff. It almost makes me smile. Almost. Her body’s fighting her as she tries to push herself off the floor but falters. One or more of her ribs must be broken and the collar’s keeping her from healing.

“Aw, poor baby,” I coo, letting a sly grin curl my lips.

I extend my hand. A black tendril slithers from beneath my sleeve, down my palm, and stretches toward her collar.

It latches on.

In seconds, it solidifies—black leather, coiled into a leash. I wrap the end around my hand and give it a tug.

She’s yanked to her feet, stumbling to keep up. I make sure to give her no choice on the matter.

“The moment I have this thing off,” she snarls, “or the second I get my hands on a weapon, I’m starting with your heart. I’ll carve it out and devour it in front of you.

“No—better yet, I’ll start with your fingers. I’ll make you eat them.”

I don’t respond, but she continues anyway. Detailing all her plans to mutilate or consume me.

I pull on the leash—hard—just enough to nearly send her face-first into the floor.

She stumbles but still doesn’t shut up.

“Yeah, yeah. Can you shut up? I’m thinking.”

“Oh I’m sorry! Am I inconveniencing you?” Millicent snaps, the situation infuriating her voice.

“Yes, as you tend to,” I mutter. “They have Kalix. I’m trying to find where they’re keeping him. I’ve been digging through as many minds as I can reach.

“So, for once, can you shut up and listen, Millicent?”

I rub the bridge of my nose in frustration, sighing as we head down a long hallway back toward the main chamber.

To my disbelief, she goes quiet. Her pace quickens too, which must mean her ribs are finally healing. Ahead, a group of girls with men round the corner.

Shit.

We don’t need more eyes on us right now, not when they have Kalix. He can’t resist compulsion like I can. My immunity is tied to my mind magic. Unfortunately, Kalix doesn’t have that edge.

I turn sharply and shove Millicent against the wall.

“Pretend to like me for a few seconds while they pass.” I whisper, wrapping the leash tightly around my hand to tug her chest against mine.

I keep her legs between mine as I place my other hand next to her head on the wall.

I lean in, just close enough to pass for intimacy. Just two lovers, lost in conversation.

“Do not actually kiss me,” she hisses, eyes glowering.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I whisper back. “The last time I did, you literally stabbed me in the back and tried to bond me.” This is truly a strategic move to avoid further confrontation. Of course, with Millicent there is no such thing.

“Tell me—do you try to trap all your men permanently?”

“They’d be so lucky,” she snarks, tilting her chin up.

I take the invitation.

I ghost my lips over her exposed throat, just beneath the curve of her jaw. Her pulse jumps beneath my mouth. I press firmer.

My lips part, tongue sweeping over her soft, heated skin. I suck gently, tasting vanilla and jasmine. Her scent crawls into my brain, its uniqueness riling the evil within. Okay, maybe this is not the best strategy. I don’t even try to listen for those who pass when my senses hone in on her.

Mark her.

I bite down. She gasps, sweetly. I soothe the indented, milky skin with my tongue and the sound she makes nearly undoes me.

Her head tips back. A silent invitation.

I kiss lower, taking my time to explore. I savor the trail down to her shoulder. My tongue traces the edge of her witch marks. She shivers under me.

Control slips further away.

When I reach the scar—my initial carved into her skin—I pause. Gratification blooms hot in my chest.

I press a kiss to it, then lift my hand to trace the lines with my fingertip.

“I should’ve put my name on your collar too,” I murmur, more to myself than to her. My fingertip flexes at the urge to dig into her chest, carve her out and wrap myself around her spine.

“They passed,” she says flatly. “You can get off me now.” She elbows my ribs.

I chuckle, releasing her and letting the leash dissipate. She’s walking just fine now anyway.

The act worked. To anyone watching, I was just another patron indulging in his favorite girl.

Maybe I got a little lost in the role.

We continue down the hallway. The noise from the main floor grows louder as we emerge into the open. I navigate through the crowd, weaving past dancers and drunks until we reach a narrow wooden door tucked off to the side. More of a broom closet than anything else.

“From what I gathered, there’s a holding cell system below,” I explain, relaying what I pulled from the minds around us.

Of course the door is locked. Blasting through it would draw attention.

“Is there an issue?” Millicent asks, voice laced with condescension.

“It’s locked.”

“No,” she gasps, the sarcasm in her voice weighing it down. She looks at me like I have no functioning brain cells. “You said it’s a holding cell entrance. It’s going to be locked. Just break it.”

I shoot her a flat look. “Millicent, if I break the lock, we’ll alert half the building.”

She rolls her eyes and shoves me aside. “Move, You’re useless.”

I scoff, crossing my arms and leaning back to watch this supposed solution unfold.

She plucks a red jewel from her earring and shields the door handle from view. Sliding the post into the lock, she works it like she’s done this before.

“You were so convincing back in the hall. Talk to me now, so it doesn’t look like I’m breaking into a door,” she murmurs.

“You can lockpick? She’s a murderer, a liar, totally manipulative…and now a thief?”

“You forgot something.”

The lock clicks. And she opens the door with a flourish.

“Extremely good-looking,” she finishes smugly before descending the stairs.

I briefly consider pushing her down them. No—that’s too childish.

Throwing her? Now that’s more my style.

I settle for just following instead.

The stairwell opens to a dank corridor lined with rusting iron bars. The air is wet and sour. A rat darts past as water drips steadily from somewhere overhead.

“There you are!”

Iris’s voice cuts through the gloom. She waves us over, standing at the end of one of the rows beside a cell.

When I reach her, I peer into it.

Kalix sits on the floor with his wrists and ankles bound in iron cuffs.

“Oh, I thought they were going to compel him. They just locked him up?”

“He started a fight,” Iris says, shooting a look of disapproval into the cell.

“They put him in here to sober up and they let me come down here with him. I told them I’m a healer.

” She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed. “They don’t like vomit from drunks in the cells, I guess. So, I’m babysitting a grown man.”

I laugh.

That earns me a slap on my shoulder. “It’s not funny! We’ve been of no use because he got in trouble. Did you guys find anything?” She sighs, placing her hands on her hips.

Dark magic prickles up my spine as Millicent approaches. Her presence hits before her voice.

“We did,” she says coolly, “I’ll fill you in once we’re both out of this place. I think we’d both prefer to be clothed and far from these men.”

“Agreed.”

Iris walks past me and loops her arm through Millicent’s. “We’re heading out to get some fresh air. Meet us when you’re done in here. And it’s dinner time…I’m starving.”

Iris is the same as Millicent. I am not shocked that they have slowly grown toward one another.

Still, I can’t silence the small voice in the back of my mind that warns Millicent’s nature is far more sinister.

A nature that could just doom us. Once they’re gone, I melt the cell lock with a quick pulse of magic, then turn to the cuffs.

“Magic’s handy,” Kalix mutters. “I’d be down here attempting to pick a lock for centuries.”

“That’s because you’re a terrible lockpicker,” I say, smirking as my magic slices through the last of the cuffs.

He rises slowly, stretching out sore limbs.

“What made you get into a fight?”

His eyes flick toward the far wall. “Someone touched something that doesn’t belong to them.”

He doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t push. He’s not his usual self so I decide not to pry.

I know the look.

This is about Iris.

We walk out of the cellblock together, stepping into the cool open night air where the others wait. Finally, a sense of tranquility flows over me. Only our boots crunching as we walk to the horses, some insects chittering, and the birds calling out in deep baritone coos reach my ears now.