the lines of my lips. “You want to be owned, don’t you?”
Bewilderment sparks somewhere inside of me. I’m not sure exactly where it comes from, just that it’s there. Morax leans down like he’s going to kiss me, but instead of responding to that like it’s a good thing, all I can think is that he’s not one of my Guardians. I don’t want to be kissing anyone but them.
Their images flash through my mind as the Ophidian’s chest presses against mine. I can feel my heart steadily beating, and that strikes me as odd too. When my demons touch me, hold me, my heart always picks up the pace with excitement. But now, it’s almost like it’s anesthetized.
Will.
Fight.
Owned.
The words rise to the surface of my foggy brain, and I clench my hands as I become aware of the scythe again.
This is wrong.
He’s not...them.
In a move so quick it rivals the speed of the demon who’s somehow fucked with my mind and is closing in on my lips like a predator does prey, I flip my scythe in my hand so the straight blade is leading. Morax tracks the movement, but I’m sinking the blade into his chest before he can so much as try to take a step back from me.
My eyes widen on the spot where my blade pierces his flesh. I expect him to turn to ash, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even flinch or gasp in pain. Confused and panicked, I pull the end out of him and step back, flipping the scythe again so I can get him with the curved blade now that there’s space between us and room for me to use the other end.
He blocks the second strike like he’s swatting away an annoying bug. Black blood pools onto the fabric of his shirt, but instead of acknowledging it in any way, he reaches down and adjusts himself. I quickly look away from the bulge in his pants.
“You’re stronger than I thought,” he tells me with a lascivious grin, need glimmering in his unusual eyes.
Unease churns inside of me as alarm bells sing in my head. I can feel all the wrongness that’s wrapped around him like a cloak. I don’t know who this dude is or what exactly his power is that he used on me, but fucked up doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“I’m going to have the best time playing with you.”
That creepy smile on his face goes hand in hand with my need to vomit. I feel rattled and violated, and all he’s doing is looking at me. All at once, his snake hair looks at me, and they start writhing around in some kind of weird ass hypnotic dance.
“It’s time to go now, little one. Take my hand.” He reaches out, palm up, and once again, I’m completely discombobulated.
It’s time to go.
Frowning, I reach for him, but before I can close the distance between us and slip my palm into his, a winged being slams down between us, and a cloud of dirt and grass goes flying out all around us from the impact.
“That is my daughter you are fucking with, Snake Charmer,” Tazreel growls, his blond wings held out proudly on either side of him.
Taz’s voice yanks me from the confounding venom Morax keeps slipping into my head. How the fuck is he doing that?
“Why, Pride, it’s lovely to finally meet you. Any friend of Lucifer’s is an enemy of mine,” he jokes.
Tazreel and Morax go at it.
They clash together like two ocean waves battling for control over the sea. I feel their impact through the ground. They hit hard, and this time, no one is laughing.
I look over to find Nefta practically standing on a hill of bodies as she continues to fight relentlessly against the demons who surrounded us. I abandon my spectator status of Tazreel and Morax’s showdown. I want to get as far from the Ophidian as possible. He scrambles my brain, and I feel like I can’t trust myself with him.
I scan for my demons. I haven’t seen them since I was drop-kicked earlier. I was supposed to look out for them, and instead, I got myself netted and just almost left willingly with the enemy. I need to find Jerif. Maybe I can convince him to punch me in the face to knock some sense in me, or at least tell me what the fuck my problem is.
Out of nowhere, something wraps around my waist, and I’m yanked to the