Jegudiel (Deadly Virtues 2)

With that, he slammed the door to the iron maiden shut. Noa screamed through her bruised throat as the spikes pierced the flesh on the front of her body. She tried to keep her breathing steady, keep herself totally still so the spikes wouldn’t run her through completely. But she was weak, and her legs threatened to buckle any second.

An explosion rattled the foundations of the cave. Noa stared through the slit of the iron maiden’s face and watched with grainy vision as Auguste fled, following the narrow path of the stream. “No,” she tried to protest, not wanting him to get away again. Then she saw the twins by the door. They opened it and rushed out, readying to kill whoever came down the stairs.

Dinah … Naomi, Jo, Candace, Beth … Diel … Diel …

Noa cried out in frustration as she fought to remain unmoving. She knew it was only a matter of time before she could no longer keep upright. And a part of her cried at the thought of her sisters, Diel, finding her in the iron maiden, too late.

She heard a commotion up ahead as another explosion sounded above ground. Noa began to drift in and out of consciousness. She heard guns and fighting, but she’d lost sight of any sign of the twins and where they might now be.

Then something seemed to be happening in the cave. She heard fighting close by but couldn’t see clearly enough to make out who and what. She tried to breathe steadily. She saw a flash of movement, but her vision was too blurred.

“Noa!” The frantic call of her name was a shot of caffeine to her exhausted body. She jerked, but then screamed in pain as the spikes dug into her further, the agony unbearable. “NOA!” the voice called louder, and tears filled Noa’s eyes when she realized who that voice belonged to.

“Diel!” she tried to shout out, but her voice was nonexistent. She couldn’t tap on any part of the iron maiden as a signal, as she couldn’t move or be impaled—as was its purpose.

“Noa!” Diel screamed again. She could hear him tearing apart the room, desperation in every frantic footstep. When he flashed before her, Noa whimpered, fearing he wouldn’t find her in time. But then Diel froze, and he turned to the iron maiden, his gaze immediately finding hers through the tiny slit in its face.

He raced toward her and tried to wrench the door open. “The lock. The fucking lock!” he spat, then disappeared from Noa’s limited view. She felt the door move again and heard a loud crunch echo around the cave. He was trying to break it open. Her jaw clenched as Diel’s effort made the spikes dig further into her flesh. But she held her legs firm.

Diel was here.

Diel was actually here.

Noa bit her lip to quell a cry of pain as the door pushed into her stomach and breasts. But then she heard the lock break, and Diel slowly opened the door. She fought to open her swollen eyes. “Noa,” Diel breathed, devastation clear in his voice. His eyes roved down her broken and bloodied body, pierced and bruised over every single inch.

Noa smiled at the sight of him. Always so beautiful, especially post kill and drenched in Brethren blood. Mustering all the energy she could, she leaned on the elation she felt at seeing his beautiful face. “Hello, pretty monster.”

But exhaustion spilled from her along with blood, and her legs buckled. Diel rushed forward to take her in his arms before she hit the ground. The minute he held her, Noa felt a flicker of warmth in her broken body. “Baby,” Diel whispered, just as brokenly, and pushed the matted hair back from her face. “Baby,” he said again, a tincture of panic and relief in his raspy tone.

He laid her down on the floor, hovering above her, then he was wrenched to his feet. Noa watched, heart in her throat, as Diel was slammed against the cave wall. She wiped her eyes, straining to see what was happening, and saw the familiar sight of black leather pants and shirt and the Coven’s favored large leather hood. Her heart thrummed in recognition.

But then Diel launched himself at whoever was holding him, the two of them falling into attacking stances. “Pris …” Noa tried to clear her throat to speak louder. “Priscilla.” Noa wanted to cry in happiness when the hooded head turned to face her, and a pair of familiar obsidian eyes locked onto hers. But Diel charged at Priscilla and wrapped his hand around her sister’s throat. Priscilla did the same to him, the pair of them circling, each primed to tear the other apart.

Noa crawled forward, and Diel’s eyes moved from Noa’s sister to land on her. It was all the distraction Priscilla needed. She swiped Diel’s legs from underneath him and pinned him to the floor. She straddled his chest with her strong thighs and placed her knife at his throat.