Bryce tried to use the time in the air to stop shaking, but she couldn’t. Couldn’t even form a solid thought.
They glided downward, her stomach tipping with the movement, and then they landed, the thump of the demon’s boots hitting the ground echoing through her. He set her down, taking her by the hand. A door creaked open. Warm air greeted her, then the door shut. He said something she didn’t understand, and then she was toppling forward—
He caught her, and sighed. She could have sworn he sounded … exasperated. He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread?
They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet.
Floorboards groaned beneath his boots, and then Bryce found herself again on solid ground, carpets cushioning her feet. He led her by the hand and pushed her downward. Bryce tensed, fighting it, but he did it again, and she sat. In a comfy chair.
He spoke in that silken voice, and she shook her head. “I don’t understand you,” she said rawly. “I don’t know Hel’s languages. But … Aidas? Prince Aidas?”
He didn’t reply.
“Please,” she repeated. “I need to find Prince Aidas. My world, Midgard—it’s in grave danger, and my mate …” Her voice broke, and she doubled over in the darkness. I will find you again, Hunt had promised.
But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He had no way to get here. And she had no way to get home.
Unless Aidas or Apollion knew how to use the Horn. Had magic that could charge it.
She’d left Hunt and Ruhn. Had run and left them, and … Bryce sobbed. “Oh gods,” she wept. She tore off the blindfold, baring her teeth. “Aidas!” she shouted at the cold-faced male. “Get fucking AIDAS.”
He didn’t so much as blink. Didn’t reveal one hint of emotion, that he cared.
But—this room. This … house?
Dark oak wood floors and furniture. Rich, velvet fabrics. A crackling fire. Books on the shelves lining one wall. A cart of liquor in crystal decanters beside the black marble fireplace. And through the archway beyond the winged male, a foyer and a dining room.
Its style could have fit in with her father’s study. With Jesiba’s gallery.
The male watched cautiously. She swallowed down her tears, straightening her shoulders. Cleared her throat. “Where am I? What level of Hel?”
“Hel?” he said at last.
“Hel, yes, Hel!” She gestured to the house. The complete opposite of what she’d expected. “What level? Pit? Chasm?”
He shook his head, brow furrowing. The front door in the foyer opened, and multiple people rushed in, males and females, all speaking that strange language.
Bryce beheld the first one and shot to her feet.
The petite, dark-haired female with angular eyes like Fury’s drew up short. Her red-painted mouth dropped open, no doubt at the blood all over Bryce’s face and body.
This female was … Fae. Clad in beautiful, yet thoroughly old-fashioned clothes. Like the stuff they wore on Avallen.
Another winged male, broader than the other, swaggered in, a pretty female with brown-gold hair at his side. Also Fae. Also wearing clothes that seemed out of some sort of fantasy film.
Bryce blurted, “I’ve been trying to ask him, but he doesn’t understand. Is this Hel? I need to see Prince Aidas.”
The dark-haired one turned to the others and said something that had them all angling their heads at Bryce. The swaggering male sniffed, trying to read the scent of the blood on her.
Bryce swallowed hard. She knew only one other language, and that one …
Her heart thundered. Bryce said in the ancient language of the Fae, of the Starborn, “Is this world Hel? I need to see Prince Aidas.”
The petite, dark-haired female staggered back, a hand to her mouth. The others gaped. As if the small female’s shock was a rare occurrence. The female eyed the Starsword then. Looked to the first winged male—Bryce’s captor. Nodded to the dark-hilted knife at his side.
The male drew it, and Bryce flinched.
Flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed.
It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger—
The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega.