Page 80 of Guardian

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The small cave-like cell was dimly lit. It wasn’t cold, but Winter shivered nevertheless. Her jacket was gone, and with it the dagger in its pocket. The floor beneath her feet was rough, the ceiling jagged. The shape of the cell wasn’t symmetrical, but created by nature, by the shifting of tectonic plates. There was oxygen down here, but it was cut with the intense stink of Sulphur and other gases that were released by the active earth underneath through crevices in the rock. Geothermal energy heated this place, and most likely provided it with energy to use for whatever purposes the inhabitants of this underground maze deemed necessary. She knew where she was. She’d seen it in her visions many times. Feared it. This was the Underworld, the place the green-eyed demons called home.

Everything she’d seen in her visions was coming true. Only it was worse. In her visions, she’d seen Logan slay the demons for her. But she knew now that he wouldn’t come. Not now that she’d found out that he’d killed her grandmother. He had no reason to come for her now. He wouldn’t risk his life for a woman who hated him. His betrayal hurt more than anything she’d ever felt. He’d lied to her, lied all this time to hide his cruel act.

The sound of heavy boots hitting the stone floor made her snap her head to the thick wooden door that looked like it belonged in a medieval castle. A key was turned in the lock, and a moment later the door swung outward and a demon appeared, filling almost the entire frame. He wasn’t the same demon who’d dragged her into the vortex.

“You! Come!”

The words weren’t an invitation. She had no choice but to do what he said. He let her exit the cell then motioned her down a corridor, sticking to her heels like pesky toilet paper to a wet shoe. Every so often, his hand shot forward to direct her toward another corridor, grunting his displeasure when she didn’t react quickly enough. She’d seen the corridors before. In her visions. This was the vast tunnel system of the Underworld. She’d drawn it.

“Stop!” The command was like a slap in the face.

Her heart began to thunder.

The demon squeezed past her, his vile body rubbing against her and making her want to gag. He knocked at a door that she would have missed. A voice from inside invited them in, and the demon opened the door wide, but Winter couldn’t see past him into the interior.

“The psychic, oh Great One.”

“Send her in.”

The brutish demon stepped aside and grabbed her upper arm, shoving her into the room not too gently, almost as if he had to prove to his superior that he hadn’t treated her with any kindness or consideration. Not that he had. But now, he made this fact abundantly clear.

“Dismissed,” the demon behind the massive desk said.

Winter barely heard the door close behind her, because her focus was on the demon the other one had called Great One. He had to be their leader. She perused him carefully. Just like the other demons she’d encountered previously, his eyes were poison-green. He was a large man, broad-shouldered, muscular, strong. His dark hair was short, his face clean-shaven, though a dark shadow around his chin and mouth indicated that if he wanted to grow a beard, it would be just as dark and thick.

He was dressed in the clothing of a guerilla fighter, reminding her of Fidel Castro in his younger years. He exuded confidence and power. But there was something else about him that she hadn’t expected to see in a demon. He was handsome. Movie-star handsome.

She tried to shake off the notion. It couldn’t be that she found this vile creature attractive. Was she hallucinating?

He rose now and walked toward her, an easy smile forming on his lips. “Miss Collins, I apologize for your rough treatment at the hands of my subjects,” he said with a deep, soothing voice that would make any radio personality jealous. “I’ve tried to teach them manners, but alas, it’s useless. I’m having more luxurious quarters readied for you as we speak.”

He reached for her hand, and she was too paralyzed to refuse it. His touch was warm and gentle. With it, she realized that this demon was more dangerous than any of his underlings. This demon had charisma and knew how to use it. Just like so many serial killers who’d lured their unsuspecting victims into a trap. But she wouldn’t fall for it. She knew better. She knew what the demons were capable of.

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it again. “You may call me Zoltan. May I call you Winter? Such a pretty name. So unusual, yet so fitting for a special woman like you.”

Oh God! Was he flirting with her? Did he think this was a date rather than a kidnapping? This was sick! Absolutely sick!

“You kidnapped me!” she ground out with a clenched jaw.

Another charming smile, but behind it she saw his barely leashed anger. “Now, now, Winter, let’s not start our new friendship with accusations.”

“I’m not your friend! I’m your prisoner.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, but then he seemed to relax again. She’d never seen a man who had such iron control over himself, when she knew he wanted to crush her resistance with brute force. But this demon, this Zoltan as he called himself, was smart. He had a plan.

“I’m going to rectify that. As I said before, my subjects are a little on the rough side and don’t know how to deal with honored guests.” He motioned to the door. “But it’s time to eat. I’m sure you’re hungry. I’ve brought in a chef specially for you.”

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” she sniped. “I’m not intending to stay long.”

A belly laugh suddenly filled the room, bouncing off the uneven rock walls.

There was even a sparkle of mischief glimmering in Zoltan’s eyes. “And I, my dear Winter, intend to change your mind.” He stepped a little closer, his face serious now, his eyes cold and hard. “I always get what I want.”

There was an underlying growl in his voice that sent a chill through her bones. Yes, Zoltan was dangerous, because he knew how to manipulate others. But she was prepared for it. She wasn’t stupid and wouldn’t fall for his tricks. Instead, she would try to learn as much as she could about him. And somehow, she would make it out of here. Or she would die trying.

“I believe dinner is served. Shall we?”