“Here we are,” said Treszka, as they arrived at their destination.

He was too far away from the young now to do anything to protect them. They were on their own, a fact that hovered in the back of his mind like a vulture waiting for its prey to die.

He followed her flowing skirts into a large stone chamber. The floor here was relatively level, covered with rugs and pillows. A large iron bed filled half the space, leaving the other side open as some kind of sitting area, complete with upholstered furniture.

The whole place smelled . . . odd. Almost human, beneath the caustic stench he’d come to associate with Treszka.

“Have a seat,” she said, waving toward a love seat.

What the hell? After hours of being on that rock floor, a soft surface looked pretty damn good.

Eric sat and was instantly surrounded by that strange human smell. It took him a second to realize that it wasn’t regular leather he was sitting on. It was skin. Human skin.

Revulsion surged up his throat, but he choked it down rather than give her the satisfaction of seeing his distress.

She eyed him with an air of amused expectation.

“This is nice,” he said, running his hand over the seat. “Young virgins?”

Her black eyes narrowed in irritation, but she hid it quickly. “Are you hungry?”

He stretched out on the love seat. “Sure. I could go for some tacos. Maybe a loaded pizza. There’s a great little hole-in-the-wall I know of that delivers.”

“Human food? I would have thought better of you, Slayer.”

He shrugged. “Human food didn’t make so damn many people fat by being unappetizing. You should try it sometime.”

She was getting pissed. He could smell her anger falling out of her, see it in the way her white pupils constricted. “You will eat what I provide or not at all.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He forced himself to stare into her freaky eyes. “Just know that if you try to feed me meat from a human or one of my own, I will kill you where you stand.”

She beamed. “That’s what I want to see. Fire. Spirit.”

“You want me to come after you?” he asked. “Hell, honey, why didn’t you say so?” He stood, and several guards took a step forward, weapons raised.

“Stand down,” she told the guards. “He wouldn’t be able to kill me on his best day. And with that lump on his head, today is far from his best day.” She clapped her hands twice, and instantly another demon entered the room, as if he’d been waiting for the invitation.

“Vazel, I’d like you to meet our guest, Eric Phelan.”

Vazel loped across the room, eyeing Eric with suspicion. He was grotesquely built, with knobby patches of skin on every joint. He wore only a loincloth that shared way too much with the world. His head was bald and fleshy, with an almost reptilian texture. His thin lips were pulled back in a snarl of warning, showing off several pointed teeth as well as gaps where more had once been. His arms were too long for his frame. He had only three fingers on each hand, and two of them had an extra joint. His skin was a pale gray color, with mangy patches of gray fur.

For a moment, Eric wished he were unable to see in the dark.

“Eric, I’d like you to meet my second in command, Vazel.”

No way in hell was he going to touch this demon. Instead, he nodded in greeting, pretending like Vazel wasn’t the ugliest thing he’d seen in decades of fighting ugly demons.

“You should kill him,” said Vazel, the words slurred through sharp teeth.

“We talked about this. He’s a Slayer. I need him,” she said.

“Bad blood,” said Vazel. “Too far from our own. No power. He’s a bad match.”

They thought Eric didn’t have power? That was good to know. If they didn’t think he could defend himself, they might let down their guard.

“He is perfect,” she said.

“I hate to get in the way of a good argument,” he said, “but you promised me dinner.” He didn’t know how he was going to hide enough food to feed the young, but he had to make an effort. There was no way of knowing if they’d be provided for otherwise.

“Of course,” said Treszka. “Send them in.”

Eric smelled his kin before he saw them. The two missing young were shackled around the neck. A heavy chain dangled down, dragging on the ground before sweeping back up into the hands of one of the demon guards. Each of the boys carried a tray of food. Their eyes glittered with tears, but neither of them let those tears fall.

Eric did his best to hide his relief and the anger that followed swiftly on its heels. “Are you hurt?” he asked them.

“They’re untouched,” said Treszka. “And will remain that way as long as you obey.”

Yeah. Obedience wasn’t really his thing. It took all his self-control to stay where he was and not rush to their sides. “Are you hurt?” he repeated, looking each boy in the eyes.

Both shook their heads but didn’t open their mouths.

“They’re not allowed to speak,” she explained. “They know the rules. Now come and eat.”

The food smelled good. Untainted. There was some kind of charred beef and even some fruit—not at all what he would have expected down here.

“Serve us,” ordered Treszka.

The young scurried to obey. They set the trays down on a small table. Eric could hear their stomachs rumbling from here.

He sniffed the food carefully, letting his powerful nose search for even the slightest sign of toxin or filth. All he smelled was food. Plain, but safe.

“I won’t eat until they do,” he said.

“You will eat when I tell you to do so,” she said.

She lifted one black-tipped finger. That was all.

The guards holding the chains attached to the boys’ collars jerked on them, knocking the young to their hands and knees. One of them stifled a sob, but Eric still heard it.

He took a step toward her.

Vazel was faster than his appearance would suggest. He drew a sword and leveled it against Eric’s chest, pressing hard enough to draw a trickle of blood.

“You will not touch her,” said Vazel.

“Touching her is the absolute last thing I want to do, but if she hurts those kids again, I’m going to have to put her in the ground.”

Vazel growled. Treszka laughed. “Boys, boys. No need to fight over me. Let’s all sit down and have a nice meal together.”