He looked at her like she’d just asked him if Hell was real. “Obviously.”
She blinked. She wasn’t going to thank him, and she didn’t care if he shoplifted vegetables. Not if it meant she got to eat.
They stared at each other. She glared at him, her eyes full of hatred, and he just … watched her. Like he truly felt nothing. The same way he’d pushed through that crowd of people like they were inanimate objects, he watched her now with complete detachment.
In fact, before her eyes, she watched his eyes grow more and more distant, until suddenly, she knew he’d gone back into his head.
“Can’t understand why it failed,” he muttered, shaking his head. “All the ingredients… Everything in place … More blood needed perhaps? But how—”
“Your spell failed?” she asked.
He blinked, and suddenly he was back in the room with her. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” By the set of his jaw, he wasn’t lying about that.
“That means you’re going to keep me longer, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.” He didn’t look smug, but he didn’t look sorry either. He simply didn’t give a shit.
Bastard.There was no chance of Stockholm syndrome with this one.
“How long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“People are going to think I’m dead. No one knows where I went.”
“That was the point,” he replied easily.
She gritted her teeth against the wave of despair that crashed over her. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her fall apart. Not that he’d care either way.
He was a demon. It wasn’t like she’d expected anything different, but damn. She hadn’t realized she could hate him any more than she already did, but somehow, she found a way.
“I must return to work now,” he said, more to himself than her. But he didn’t make any move to get up. And his voice suddenly sounded exhausted. “There’s much to be done and little time left.”
She frowned, trying to figure him out. “My blood is a key ingredient in your spell. What kind of spell? What are you trying to do?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“Maybe it should be. I’m a blood-born witch. Maybe I could help you.”
His scoff made it clear he didn’t believe her. And yeah, she didn’t blame him. He was a god-knew-how-old demon who’d probably been practicing black magic longer than she could comprehend. She was a smart, powerful witch, but she couldn’t match that.
“I already told you that trying to trick me won’t work,” he said, but she didn’t miss the spark of intrigue in his eyes. Like he was enjoying watching her try.
“I’ll be honest then,” she said. “I’d do pretty much anything to keep from being left in this cell again.”
His eyes narrowed, and she thought she might have surprised him with her candor.
“Maybe it’s not smart to tell you that, but I need to make it clear that if you think I’m trying to manipulate you, it’s only because I’m desperate.”
“Why?” He looked around. “It’s not that bad. I didn’t even chain you up.”
She shot him an incredulous look.
He shrugged. “You should see how I treat my other prisoners. Most are chained so tight they can’t even lift a finger.” A sickening glint lit his eyes, like he got off on that.Of course he does.“My most prized prisoner is decapitated regularly so he’s constantly using all his energy regrowing his head.” His lips curved at her expression of revulsion. “I’d say you have it easy.”
