Cipher (Demonica Underworld #8) - Larissa Ione Page 0,47

that he’d spilled all to Lyre, though. Just spit it out like it was no big deal. But then, Lyre hadn’t betrayed him or tortured him, so there was that. Plus, he couldn’t help but like Lyre. Other than the time she’d fed him to demon fish, she’d been pretty cool. They’d spent months talking about mundane things, like the topography of Bael’s territory, the locations of the Harrowgates scattered through his realm, and the best flavor of ice cream.

The ice cream talk wouldn’t help get him out of here, but the other shit might. Not that Lyre had given him intel when he’d asked, or even all at once. He’d pieced it together over time, keeping mental notes on anything that might prove useful. But in the course of the information-gathering, he’d learned enough about Lyre to not hate her. And now he actually felt something for her. A protective instinct that made him grateful she hadn’t been here while the demons had pounded on him. And that she wasn’t here now, when Flail was going to do whatever it was she liked to do. Which he guaranteed wouldn’t be something he liked to do.

He tested the rope binding his hands as he hung from the ceiling by his wrists. Nothing had changed. The rope held, preventing both escape and his ability to use any of his powers. He couldn’t even break the damned rope to get to one of the hundreds of weapons locked on racks around the room.

Too bad, too, because he’d love to shove one of those spears right through Flail’s evil heart.

“I guess I’m getting the silent treatment,” Flail said as she plucked a dagger from a rack. “I wonder if you can scream in silence.”

He already knew the answer to that.

It was no.

The door banged open with such force that a piece splintered and lodged in the wall. Then, in a whirlwind of energy, Lyre burst in like he’d summoned her. Forget wanting her to stay away. She was a badass bundle of fury with lasers for eyes, and it was hot. As. Fuck.

“Get away from him, you bitch.”

Yes! Bonus badass points for quoting Aliens, intentionally or not.

Flail laughed, but Lyre threw a swing and decked the bitch, cutting her off mid-guffaw. The surprisingly powerful blow sent a couple of Flail’s teeth clattering to the ground.

Lyre didn’t back off or even slow down. Like a battle-seasoned warrior, she pressed her advantage, swiping a sword from a rack and attacking while Flail was off balance. Flail fell back under the assault, and just as she summoned an elemental sword of her own, a massive blade of fire, Lyre disappeared in a puff of vapor.

What the hell?

Then he saw it. The vapor was Lyre. Flail shouted in frustration as she whacked uselessly at the wispy rope of smoke that circled her, taunting her, laughing at her. He could actually hear soft giggles as Lyre made a joke out of the other female.

Abruptly, Lyre shot upward and dove down, wrapping her misty form around his wrists.

“No!” Flail ran toward him, but the rope broke and he dropped to the ground, his hands free, power singing through his veins.

Now Flail was going to pay for everything she’d done to him.

And then it was Bael’s turn.

Chapter Seventeen

Lyre had had enough of that skank.

So she loved it when Cipher hit the ground, popped his wings, and slammed Flail with a summoned wave of scalding water.

That was a new power. And it was all kinds of awesome.

Flail screamed as her skin blistered and peeled, steam rising from her body. Somehow she managed to strike back with her fire sword, catching Cipher in the ribs. The stench of burnt and boiled flesh mingled in the air like a demon chef was preparing some sort of savory fallen angel soup.

Clutching the cauterized wound, Cipher hit the ground and rolled into Flail, bowling her over and knocking the wind from her lungs. As she gasped for air, Lyre, still in her vapor form, had an idea. Like, why the hell not?

Mind set on a course of action, Lyre darted into Flail’s open mouth.

Flail tried to scream, but she was choking and gagging, and Lyre wondered what would happen if she slid right into the bitch’s lungs.

Blind to whatever was happening outside Flail’s mouth, she squirmed around, plugging the other female’s windpipe and making her squeal in rage and panic. There were grunts, flailing, and then everything went still and quiet.

“Lyre?”

Lyre slid between Flail’s motionless