The instant his thought solidified inside hers, she freaked.

Every muscle in her body went stiff. She snarled, grabbed his head and flipped him over her. He slammed into the ground hard enough to rattle his bones. Before he knew what was happening, she had drawn his sword and held the tip of it to his throat.

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again.” Her voice was a rough growl of warning. Her pupils narrowed to slits, and her canines seemed to lengthen.

Joseph didn’t dare move. Not when she was on the edge of skewering him where he lay with that razor-sharp steel blade.

“Promise me!” she demanded.

He kept his voice nice and calm. No need to rile the wild animal in her. “No. That’s the way it’s supposed to be between us. One day you’ll see that. Until then, I’ll try to be as patient as you need me to be.”

She lunged to her feet and tossed the blade onto the ground. “Keep your distance, Theronai. We’re done.”

Lyka stalked away, making a beeline for her suite.

Joseph knew exactly what she was doing, and there wasn’t a thing he could do to stop her. He’d promised her she could leave, and now she would.

But she wasn’t going alone. She might not like it, but that was just too bad. She’d taken his luceria. She’d given him her vow. She was his now, and he had made a promise to protect her life with his own. He couldn’t do that if she was out there and he was in here.

Joseph picked up his cell phone as he went to pack his bag. The first man on his list answered.

“I need you to hold down the fort while I’m away,” said Joseph. “I’m going on a field trip.”

*   *   *

Eric suffered through a surge of panic. The two Slayer boys both started crying.

He’d made a mistake. He’d pushed Treszka too hard, and now those kids were going to pay the price.

“No,” he said, rushing to fix the damage he’d done. “Don’t hurt them.”

She aimed those white pupils at him, creeping him out down to his toes. “You will obey?”

For now he would. For now he would bide his time and figure out a way to get out of here without losing a single one of the young. “I will.”

“Then sit and eat.”

Eric sat and started eating. He didn’t taste a thing. His focus was too tightly on the boys who were crying quietly on the far side of the room.

Poor kids. He had to get them out before they were irrevocably scarred.

“What do I have to do to free the young?” he asked between bites.

Vazel, the grotesque demon sitting across from him, pulled his eyes off Treszka long enough to glare at Eric. “They’re ours now. We need their blood.”

“Silence,” she barked. “You have no idea what my plans for these creatures are.”

He bowed his head in obedience, but the glare of hatred on his face was still aimed at Eric.

“So you admit you’re not going to let them go?” asked Eric. “If that’s the case, then go ahead and kill them now. I’d rather not see them suffer.”

The boys whimpered.

“I have no desire to kill them. I will if you force my hand, but my intent is for them to live a long, healthy life. We need them down here.”

That’s when Eric realized the truth, and it was far worse than he’d hoped.

Slayer blood was powerful. It held the traces of magic that the Synestryn needed to live. Slayers healed fast. Regenerated blood and tissue faster than even the Theronai or Sanguinar did. And they didn’t burn up any precious magical resources doing so. If fed and protected from injury, a Slayer could lose a lot of blood every day and live for decades.

That was what she’d meant when she said she wanted the young to live a long, healthy life.

She was going to bleed them to fuel her troops.

His desire to keep the kids alive warred with his need to see every last Synestryn die. He couldn’t stand the thought of the young being used as food, living their lives down here, knowing nothing more than pain and imprisonment.

He’d rather see them die a swift, painless death.

“I can see what you’re thinking, Slayer,” she said. “I won’t let you take my resources away.”

“You’re not leaving me much choice.”

“They’ll be comfortable.”

“The metal collars around their necks say otherwise.”

“A necessary precaution. These two tried to kill my soldiers.”

Eric glanced toward the young. “Excellent work, boys. I’m proud of you.”

“Take them away,” ordered Treszka, clearly irritated that Eric wasn’t paying complete attention to her. “Feed them. Let them sleep.”

“Stay strong, boys. I will come for you. We’ll get out of here soon.”

The young didn’t respond, but he knew they’d heard him. That was enough for now. They were strong. They’d survive as he’d trained them to do.

Vazel ripped a piece of meat free and shoved it into his mouth. Juices dripped down his knobby chin. “I told you he was more trouble alive. Let me take him to the pens. He’s no better than the others.”

“What others?” asked Eric.

Treszka’s nostrils flared in anger. “Leave us until you can learn the art of silence. Now.”

He shot Eric another death stare, but picked up his food in his giant fists and stomped away.

That left only her and about a dozen guards for him to take out. He glanced around the room, calculating his odds.

“You won’t make it out alive,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “There are two hundred more of my men between you and the surface. You might as well get used to the dark.”

The information she accidentally provided was useful. Assuming any of it was true. “I will find a way out.”

She gave him a sexy smile, and for a split second, he almost forgot she was a bloodthirsty demon. Her beauty had a way of clouding his judgment, but the toxic smell coming from her reminded him of exactly what she was.

“Is that all you really want?” she asked, running her fingers down her neck to dip just inside the top of her velvet gown. Breasts were designed to make men stupid, and she really did have a spectacular pair. Especially for a demon.

He shook his head to steel his resolve. “Yes. I want the young and I want to leave. I’d also like you and every demon down here dead, if I’m being completely honest.”