Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,12

angel. And then he’d give Bael what he wanted, and Flail would take the credit.

No way. Lyre was tired of waiting to get back at her enemies. She needed this win, and she needed it badly.

“Listen to me,” she said as she kicked Flail’s corset into a corner. “Flail is going to destroy you in the arena—”

“Never,” he spat.

His fire was magnificent, but fires could be put out.

“You know it’s true, Cipher.” She met his tortured gaze, hoping he’d recognize her genuine concern. He just had to mistake concern for her own situation for concern for his. “You know it is. She’s going to crack the shield you’ve got around yourself, and evil is going to pour in and turn you into someone your friends and family won’t recognize. And then you’ll willingly give up the list Bael wants. But if you give me the list, you won’t have to go through the hell Flail will put you through. You can hold on to your sanity and yourself for a while. Let the effects of being in Sheoul seep into you gradually instead of pouring in like a dam breaking.”

“You think I’m stupid?” he rasped. “You don’t give a shit about me. You just want to deny Flail a victory while scoring one for yourself.” He inhaled a gurgling breath, his fingers tightening around his gaping chest wound where the ascerdisc had been. “And fuck you for making sense.” He spat blood onto the floor, where it froze instantly, little drops of color on a canvas of white. “Is that how it went down for you?”

“I wasn’t forced to give up anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Nope, she’d entered Sheoul with a heart full of screw-you-Heaven enthusiasm. She’d expected evil to take her immediately given that she’d come here of her own free will. Instead, she could barely feel the slow creep of it and sometimes she wished it would happen faster. She’d love to be devoid of empathy. Too much of that crap got you in trouble. Having her own emotions sucked enough as it was. Having to feel for others bordered on overwhelming.

It was why she tried to avoid being anywhere nearby when Cipher was being worked over by torturemasters. It was also why she interfered with said torture as often as she could without looking suspiciously sympathetic. She wasn’t squeamish; some people deserved what they got. But during the months she’d spent with Cipher she’d grown to realize that he didn’t deserve any of this. The most offensive thing she could find about him was that he liked black walnut ice cream when everyone knew rocky road was the best.

“What about Bael?” He made a gesture that encompassed the glazed ice walls of his cell. “Did he lock you up in the Hellton hotel?”

Lyre almost laughed. If Cipher thought this was bad, he should see the prison where Bael kept the people he didn’t want to work for him. His true enemies. People who he thought might have slighted or cheated him. People who looked at him the wrong way. The suffering that radiated from the mountain complex fueled entire villages of demons who thrived on the pain of others.

This, the Hellton, as Cipher called it, was downright luxurious in comparison.

“I was never imprisoned,” she said, surprised she hadn’t told him this before.

They’d talked a lot over the last couple of months, keeping the conversation light as she tried to pry information out of him about Azagoth’s realm. Cipher had always deftly shifted the topic away from Sheoul-gra, but in truth, she hadn’t minded. She’d been stuck in Bael’s territory for years, prevented from leaving by a magical barrier that wouldn’t allow her to flash, walk, or take a Harrowgate out. Cipher’s stories had given her a tiny sense of freedom in a place where all she knew were shackles.

“I knew of Bael because I’d studied him as an angel,” she continued. “I came to him for employment. Now, let me heal you.”

He backed up so fast he hit the wall. “I said no.”

“You’ve let me do it before.”

His gaze dropped to his erection, just for a second, and her heart skipped a beat. He’d been naked in front her before, but he’d never been...aroused. Was that Flail’s angle? Had he been traumatized sexually and she was trying to exploit his pain?

As an angel Lyre would have proceeded from here carefully, with tact and sensitivity. As a fallen angel she didn’t have to do any of that.

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