The Demon’s Delight (The Demon Princes #3)

Prologue

HAILON

I thrashed against the cloth being pulled over my head, the rope that bound my hands burning into my wrists.

Dr. Lang tsked at my behavior, his patronizing tone doing the opposite of calming me down.

“Now, Jane, be smart. It’s just the veil. Would you rather Ignus came to retrieve you?” Ignus was the man who owned this house, my primary captor, and he was far less kind in his treatment of me. “There are people here to see you. We wouldn’t want to disappoint them, now would we?”

I didn’t give a single damn if they were disappointed. And my name wasn’t fucking Jane.

I yelled as much against the leather strap he’d stuffed in my mouth, protesting every step, as Dr. Lang and another man hauled me from my room. The chains around my ankles clanked heavily as they guided me down the stairs.

Once we arrived in the den, they sat me in a stiff wooden chair with no cushion, covering my shabby nightdress, bindings, and bruised limbs with an itchy robe. The rope around my hands was undone, but fingers brutally gripped my wrists and guided them to the table in front of me. I couldn’t see much of anything out of the heavy veil, nor was it easy to breathe through.

“Now, be a good girl, Jane. These people have paid for proper healing. Don’t disappoint them. Or us.” Dr. Lang patted my shoulder and stepped to the side. The other man stayed, one heavy palm on my shoulder.

This was his favorite job, the one he always volunteered for. He liked to hold me down. There were two men near the doors on this side of the room, two stationed on the other, and one more across the room near the fireplace. He always struck me as the most dangerous, though he was present infrequently and said the least. He was some kind of councilman and acted as though he were above any rules.

Seventeen weeks I’d been held in this terrible house, routinely forced to use my healing gift. Sometimes, I was brought so many people to heal I was depleted to the point I couldn’t move.

This motley band of men seemed convinced they could replicate my gift, if only they could figure out the origin of it. Unfortunately for me, finding the origin required experimentation. And experimentation was easiest when I was weakened to the point of immobility, though that was never a requirement for these men to take the samples they wanted from me.

“We’re ready,” Dr. Lang confirmed, and one of the men near the doors tapped a coded pattern on the wood.

I could smell Ignus before he got past the threshold of the room. I stiffened in response to the sour odor. “Mr. Holleran is first,” he said, leading in an older man with an audible wheeze.

“Alright then.” Dr. Lang took a seat at the table to my left, the older man to the right. “If you please, Jane.” He guided my hand to the man’s chest, wordlessly ordering me to use my magic.

After I healed the old man, I was brought a little boy with a broken wrist. I had several questions about the cause of such a thing but was forced to keep them to myself. After that, a woman with a stomach ailment, a man with a limp. On and on they went, until I was swaying in the chair. The only thing keeping me upright was the silent man’s hand, which had never once strayed from its place on my shoulder.

I fought the nausea that rose up, wishing for a drink of water to quench my raging thirst. But none would be forthcoming until they decided it was time—my needs were irrelevant here. I was just their tool. Rage simmered under my skin, my eyes seeking out any kind of weapon nearby since my hands had been left unbound. Unfortunately, the empty table was the only thing within my reach.

Dr. Lang went to speak with the man by the fire, leaning over conspiratorially instead of speaking normally. Ignus was loudly pouring drinks in celebration of another profitable day, my bodyguard was all but snoring on his feet, and the men by the door were playing cards.

I wanted to scream. A piece of me worried that if I started, I might never stop.

Dr. Lang and the councilman stood, gesturing around the room as they continued to speak in whispered tones. I drew my hands down into my lap, hoping that nobody noticed they remained unbound.

The councilman pulled a small book from his pocket and flipped to a page near the back. Dr. Lang looked at it thoughtfully, then nodded, gesturing for my bodyguard to join them. My body listed as he removed his hand from my shoulder, my balance thrown off.

Ignus came over and roughly removed the veil and robe, adding a chill to my list of bodily complaints.

“Hands,” he ordered, and my heart sank as I raised my arms in front of my body.

I scolded myself for not having done something more while I’d had them free, though I knew if I had, the consequences might have been more than I could reasonably manage given my weakened state.

Ignus pushed me back down into the chair and ordered me to stay put.

I was fading in and out of consciousness when Dr. Lang stepped into my vision.

“Ready to go, Jane?” He and the silent bodyguard yanked me to my feet.

I stumbled my way across the den, dizzier now that I was vertical.

“Watch it!” the councilman grumbled as my lack of coordination forced my bodyguard to bump into him.

I raised my hands in apology, and he turned away, disgusted. My bodyguard clutched me tighter, and Dr. Lang spent a moment accepting partial blame and apologizing himself. I kept my eyes down and found myself looking at the little book, half hanging out of the councilman’s pocket.

My pulse beat like a hummingbird’s wings as I made the decision to take the risk. I leaned heavily to the side, hand stretched out. The leather felt smooth as I snatched it up between the tips of my first three fingers on either hand just as I was tugged out of the room. I sucked in a breath, praying I wouldn’t drop it as I wiggled it between my palms.

Dr. Lang walked ahead of me on the stairs, the bodyguard at my back. I clutched the spell book as tightly as I could between my hands, braving a quick glance to be sure it wasn’t visible.

Once I was seated on the bed, Dr. Lang sent the bodyguard down for my evening meal as he rearranged my bindings. When he knelt to swap out my leg irons, I stuffed the little book under the neckline of my shift. He glanced up, and I covered the motion by putting my hair behind my ears. His eyes glided over me, but didn’t linger. I could barely make myself breathe until he turned away.

I gratefully accepted the skin of water he offered as he slid the tiny table close enough for me to eat from.

“You did well today, Jane,” he praised, though his words were meaningless. “I feel we’re getting rather close to a breakthrough.”

I said nothing, heart in my throat, pulse thrumming so fast I could taste blood.

He removed the ropes from my wrists and crossed the room, squinting at me again before leaving, closing the door behind himself.

I sank into myself, tears prickling behind my eyes. I’d just stolen the councilman’s spell book. If they figured out it was me, there would be no amount of apologizing that could get me out of a punishment I probably wouldn’t survive.

But it was a chance to escape, and I had to take it.