Wicked Road to Hel (League of Guardians 1)

“I’d rather stand, if that’s all right with you.” The girl’s voice was husky, as if ill used.

“Suit yourself.” Ransome shrugged and moved toward his liquor supply. “Anyone want a drink?” The wolf seemed edgy, and Ana watched him closely as he poured himself a generous amount of whiskey.

She moved toward the woman and took a moment to study her. She was attractive, slender, with long crimson hair, creamy skin, and a figure that was almost boyish. Dark circles bruised the flesh beneath her eyes and she was still dressed in the clothes she’d worn the night before.

“Nice tats,” Ana said. The woman had intricate markings that encircled her neck.

Francesca remained stone-faced and kept her eyes trained ahead, focused on the trashy velvet paintings that decorated the walls of Ransome’s office.

Declan moved closer. “Those aren’t tattoos,” he murmured. Ana watched the woman flinch, but she recovered quickly and remained silent.

The sorcerer had everyone’s attention now. Francesca’s face was pale, her lips pressed tight together.

“What are they?” Ransome asked as he, too, moved toward Ana and the necromancer.

Declan glanced at Ana. Something was up.

“Yo

u’re enslaved,” he said to the woman.

Francesca’s bottom lip trembled and Ana was certain her eyes glistened with unshed tears. A crack in the lady’s facade.

“What the hell is it? What do you mean?” Ana whispered.

Francesca opened her mouth to speak but the markings along her neck began to move. As they slid along her flesh a gasp of pain escaped her and she bit her lip hard. She recovered quickly and remained still as blood started to seep from the tattoo.

“It’s a demonic slave collar.” Declan’s face was shrouded in something akin to pity. “I’ve seen them before.”

Another groan escaped Francesca, and Ana took a step back. The scent of her blood was wonderful, full of power and darkness.

“Can’t you do anything?” Ransome blurted, and Ana looked at the wolf in surprise. Did they really care that she was in pain? The woman had sent a pack of ghouls after Kaden. If it was up to Ana the lady would rot in Hell.

Declan shook his head. “No, there’s nothing I can do. Only the demon who put it there can remove it and I’m guessing that would be Samael.”

The woman’s eyes widened and then she exhaled slowly. Several seconds later the markings stopped moving and the blood disappeared from her skin, like water evaporating.

“Are you the demon lord’s bitch?” Nico moved toward them, his tall body humming with predatory grace. Ana sensed his animal scratching below the surface and she knew it wouldn’t take much to set the warrior off.

Francesca remained quiet though her hands were now trembling.

“What does he want with Kaden?” Ana asked, deciding the most direct approach was the best. If it didn’t work they could always use torture. That usually did the trick.

Ana took two steps until she was in the woman’s face. She pointed toward the teenager, who was now watching the entire scene unfold with rabid interest. “That is who your ghouls were after the other night. He’s a child. You would hand him over to someone like Samael?”

Francesca met her gaze full-on and yet she remained silent. The shimmer of tears still clung to the corners but she wasn’t giving anything up. Her attitude enraged Ana, and Ana’s fangs slid out.

That got the woman’s attention.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Francesca whispered. “You are nothing compared to what waits for me if I fail.”

Ana’s features shifted subtly, for just a second, but it was long enough for the necromancer to catch a glimpse of her true self—the one who could drink her dry with no qualms. Ana hissed and walked away.

“I hate to break it to you, sweets, but from where I’m standing, seems as if you’ve already failed. Big-time.” Ransome took another long draw from his tumbler and set the empty glass down on his desk. He looked at Francesca. “You think your visitor last night was from the welcome wagon? You’re a smart woman, Francesca, figure it out.”

“Don’t call me that.” The words were uttered rapidly and the woman’s eyes slid away as she once more gazed at the ground.

“What do you want us to call you?” Ransome moved closer and Ana stepped back. She watched the werewolf closely, and though she could tell he was still edgy, he seemed to be focused.