7. Jailbreak
CHAPTER 7
JAILbrEAK
BILLIE
A s I slowly respond to the gentle shake on my shoulder, my half-asleep and still exhausted brain tells me that I’m waking up. Good thing, too.
I just had the weirdest nightmare.
I don’t know what part of it was worse: how Trevor sat me down and told me that he was secretly in love with Sierra, or how I left his sorry behind back in Connecticut, drove home to Manhattan in a pair of three-inch stiletto heels, only to let myself into our quiet apartment and get kidnapped by a shadow demon .
To make matters worse, the giant demon broke his race’s biggest rule by bringing me here and revealing the existence of demons and alternate dimensions when humans aren’t allowed to know about them. Of course, if I was his fated mate—the one female destined to, like, marry him and have his half-human, half-demon babies—then it would be okay. I’d be expected to keep my demon hubby’s secrets. But since I’m just regular old Billie Bickles and I’m not a demon’s one true mate, then I’m kinda screwed.
Luckily, it’s just one hell of a vivid dream. I mean, I always had a bit of an imagination, and if I was a writer instead of Sierra’s manager, it would make a pretty good idea for a book, but it’s not real. It can’t be.
Tell that to the male with the fangs, ridges over his nose, and gleaming black horns who has no concept of personal space.
My eyes blink open, expecting to find Sierra right there, ready to convince me that she’s moved on from worrying about Patrick Ridgefield, her throat feels fine, and I can put an end to the vocal rest her doctor put her on. It wouldn’t work, especially since she’s been attempting something similar for the last week, but I’ll give my friend credit for her persistence—and for only throwing a small tantrum when I give her a look and she knows better to drop it.
But that’s not Sierra. The ends of his thick black hair tickle my nose as I subconsciously turn toward him, but the second my brain wakes up fully and I see Glaine staring down at me, the rest of me jolts back into consciousness.
Right. Because it wasn’t a dream. I really am in the bowels of a palace, locked in the dungeon because I was too proud to act like I might possibly be Glaine’s mate. To make matters worse, we’ve been chained together, and while I warned him not to sneak his way onto the cot with me—as if his big, muscular body could fit—he’s so tall that, kneeling on the floor, he can still loom over me.
I jolt, and his reflexes have him backing away before I can accidentally bash my forehead into the killer points on his horns. My heart’s thundering in my chest. Scowling at the demon, I rub my boobs, the scowl only deepening when his gaze drops, eying up my cleavage.
“Stop that,” I tell him, and there’s less heat in my voice than there was earlier tonight. Spitfire Billie is taking a backseat for the moment. Professional Billie is still looking for a loophole to get me out of this mess, while Billie herself is too tired for this bullshit.
I’m stuck here. The clanking of the chains as I move my hand is a reminder of that. I’m stuck with Glaine. I have to make the best of a bad situation, and on the plus side, at least I know what it is that he wants: me . Meanwhile, I just want to go home.
Let’s see which one of us gets what they want first.
I glare at Glaine. His glowing eyes dim a little, but his gaze lifts so that he’s meeting mine. “Did you sleep enough?”
He doesn’t apologize. I’m beginning to think he’s allergic to it. Whatever. Like I said, guys are guys no matter what world they come from. It doesn’t help that this dress came with a built-in bra so I don’t have anything to cover my tits and, whoops, the fabric must’ve shimmied down while I was knocked out. I haven’t burst out of the top, but there’s more than enough cleavage on display that I can’t really blame Glaine for getting distracted. He’s made it clear from the get-go that he’s attracted to me, and if he doesn’t look as monstrous as I remember, I blame that on still being a little dozy.
Besides, he gave me the perfect excuse to avoid his probing stare.
Grabbing the top of my dress, yanking it up so that my nips are firmly tucked inside of the crappy bra, I purposely look at a point over his shoulder. Oh, wow. The toilet hole is just as fascinating as it was last night…
He continues to stare. In fact, he rarely blinks at all, as though he doesn’t want to miss a split second of watching his mate’s face.
I’d be flattered if I wasn’t so determined to prove that he was wrong .
“Did I get enough sleep? Please. After the night I had, I need more than a couple of hours to sleep it off. And since we’re stuck in this cell for the time-being, plus I don’t have my phone to cancel any of the many appointments I’m probably missing, getting some more sleep seems like a much better idea.”
I keep my voice short. Clipped. Professional . There’s no-nonsense in the tone, and if I offended Glaine by implying that I’d prefer nodding off to dreamland than sitting here while he stares at me, well… I’m not implying anything. I’ll say it to his face and probably just get another grumpy glower for my trouble.
“Very well,” Glaine says, nodding solemnly. “I had thought you’d rather leave the dungeon cell and see more of Sombra, but if you like the cot…”
Hang on.
My head snaps to my left. I stopped paying attention to the closed cell door after that other green-eyed demon closed it behind Glaine. It was a reminder that I was trapped, and while I’m not all that claustrophobic, the closed door made it clear that I couldn’t just get up and go whenever I wanted to.
That’s my problem. I know I’m privileged. I grew up poor, and in a lot of ways I still have that same mentality even after all the success I’ve found; first with Thr33peat, then as Sierra’s manager. That doesn’t make me any less privileged, though it gives me a better grasp on what I have and what I can lose. My freedom is the biggest one I have. Money helps. Without money, I couldn’t go where I want, when I want. The fact that I’m a pretty white woman is up there. I’m slender. I have my health. I do well because I’m tenacious, but I never forget that there are women just like me who could make demands and get laughed at. I snap my fingers, usually in Sierra’s name, and the world is my oyster.
In Earth, though. Being dragged to Sombra is a reality check. I have no power here. I have to rely on Glaine, and with the two of us trapped in this cell, I can do so without having to play into his belief that I’m his mate. He’s stuck, too, whether he chose to be or not. He could ignore me if he wanted to, but since he obviously wants to make a good impression on me, I doubt he will.
That doesn’t mean I appreciated the reminder that I’m completely at his mercy, and that of the pale demon duke upstairs. Looking at the closed door… I haven’t hit one day locked in this cell. I’d go nuts if I didn’t stubbornly pretend that I could leave this whenever I want to.
So I’ve been ignoring it, even going so far as to turn my back on it while I struggled to fall asleep. It was better to stare at the wall than admit I’m stuck on my own, far from where Sierra and Three and Roy have any idea where I am. They’re probably looking for me right now, and all I want is to find a way back to them?—
—and that begins by getting the hell out of the dungeon.
Which I can. Because the cell door?
It’s open .
“How?” I breathe out. Is it a trap? Something tells me that it might be, but without Glaine’s essence, I don’t know for sure. I honestly don’t care, either. I ask, but I’m barely listening as he explains that he called in a favor from a fellow guard to ‘forget’ to close the door behind him before he scampered off.
Sure, he doesn’t say it quite like that. His English is a lot more stilted and formal, probably because, as a language, so is Sombran. I get the gist, though, and he could’ve told me that Duke Haures opened the door himself because he realized he made a mistake, and I would’ve accepted such a whopper just to get the hell out of here.
Glaine will have to come with me. He promises that our next step will be to find a mage who can take these chains off of us, but unless I want to gnaw off my own hand to lose him, I’m having company on my jailbreak.
I don’t argue. I wouldn’t even if I could. He made a very valid point earlier that I won’t fit in to his world without his essence. Refusing his offer to share it with me might be a mistake, but I don’t like the idea of not knowing quite what it’ll cost me to say ‘yes’. With Glaine right there with me, he can help me survive this world.
Besides, he asked me what I wanted from him to prove himself. Help me get out of here. Help me get home. Maybe he feels bad for upending my life the way he did. Maybe this is his way of making amends…
And maybe I’m hoping the demon is a good guy because he’s the only hope I have to get back to New York.
The guards take sporadic tours through the dungeon. We’re meant to have two meals a day, one that’s like breakfast, one that’s dinner, and I slept for an indeterminable amount of time. I don’t know how long it’s been since Glaine’s guard buddy agreed to leave the door open, only that he’d come with the breakfast meal when he did. I see it on the tray on the ground behind Glaine, the unfamiliar meat we ate last night still steaming.
So not long then. Glaine probably waited for the guard to disappear, giving him plausible deniability, then started to shake me awake.
I’m up now. Excited about the prospect of getting out, but the way my stomach aches… yeah. I’m hungry, too. Scooting off the bed, Glaine’s eyes watching my every move, I use the napkin on the tray to wrap up the meat. I’m taking my meal to-go.
Glaine nods approvingly. “We can eat as we travel,” he says. “But we must hurry. Harth only promised that he’d keep the back hall clear until the next guard takes his patrol.”
I don’t know how long that is, but as one of the duke’s guards, he does. If he thinks we must hurry, it can’t be that long.
“I’m ready when you are,” I tell him.
For a moment, he seems stunned that I’m not arguing. That I’m not trying to come up with a way to leave him behind. Please. Give up my guide through Sombra who has a selfish reason to keep me safe? Even without the chains keeping us together, I learned my lesson. Until I’m home again, I’m trusting him to watch over me the same way he did while I was asleep.
It isn’t often I trust others, Sierra and Roy excluded. Anytime I finally let down my guard, like I did with Trevor, it tends to bite me in the ass. I have no reason to believe that Glaine won’t be another Trevor—despite the fact that he seems to want me as his mate—but I have no choice other than to hope he wants to get laid bad enough that he’ll help bring me back home.
Am I above trading sex to get what I want? Right now, not even a little. I won’t go there if I don’t have to. It’s not fair to either of us, not when I’m sure I’m not his mate and Glaine’s sure I am , but if a little nookie gets me back home before Sierra discovers that I’m in trouble… hey. He’s not looking so bad at the moment, and I can only imagine how he might become more attractive the longer I know him.
It’s my turn to stare at him now. Can he tell what I’m thinking? I know my essence gave him access to English, my name, and my memories… but the way his expression has turned heated, his eyes glowing impossibly brighter as he starts to inch his way closer to me…
I dart around him before he can get any closer. In a heartbeat, I’m standing outside of the cell while Glaine is dabbing his bottom lip with his tongue, reaching up to stroke his right horn with his free hand.
“Billie…”
The way he groans my name is a plea. If I had any doubt that he’s attracted to me, or that he sensed that fleeting yet charged moment between us, they’re gone .
Crap. I’m playing a dangerous game with this demon, but what else can I do? He stole me. I want to go home—and I’ll do whatever I have to to make sure I do.
His voice is a plea. Mine? It’s a hint of a tease as I tug on the chain, gesturing for him to join me outside the cell. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”
Glaine doesn’t hesitate. Leaving the half-touched tray behind him, he’s by my side in seconds. He shudders, then straightens, as if putting his obvious arousal away for the moment. “This way,” he rumbles. “If we go down that hall, we can leave the palace without Duke Haures realizing we’ve left.”
I fall into step behind him. The chain won’t let me get too far from him, but I’m not taking any chances.
Keeping my voice low, I ask, “Won’t the duke be pissed you’re helping me escape?”
“It doesn’t matter what his grace thinks of me.” His glowing green eyes slide my way again. It’s like he can’t keep them off of me for long. “He is not my mate.”
Yeah? Well, neither am I.
Right?