Lotho strode in, the leather pants hanging low—way low—on his narrow hips. There was a whole lot of pale skin on display. Stomach. Chest. But that wasn’t the only thing. As he strode past us, I saw what Hunter and Lore had been talking about before we came down here.
Opal.
The gemstones glistened from where they were embedded in his back, following the straight line of his spine. Seeing them seriously sewn into his skin . . . that was crazy.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Oh jeez.”
“Did your shirt fall off?” Daemon asked, his arms tightening around me.
Lotho laughed. “No.”
“So why do you need your shirt off to feed?” Even though Daemon sounded perfectly calm, I knew he was seconds from turning into the alien Terminator on bath salts.
“Feeding can get messy,” he replied nonchalantly. “Don’t want to ruin my favorite shirt.”
Heat blew off from Daemon like nuclear fallout. Wrenching my eyes open, I watched Lotho make his way across the room and then throw himself onto the bed. He lay down in the middle, on his side.
Lotho winked as he patted the spot before him. “Let’s do this.”
My feet were attached to the floor. “I . . .”
Daemon’s arms were like steel bands around mine. “No. Not like this.”
“But I want it like this,” Lotho purred as he rested his head on his closed fist. “After all, it will be really comfy.”
I was going to puke.
“You’re taking this too far,” Daemon warned.
“I haven’t even begun to take it too far.” Lotho’s pale eyes flashed. “It’s not about me, now, is it? It’s about how far you’re willing to go to get my help.”
A low, inhuman sound rumbled from deep within Daemon as I tried to drag in air, but the oxygen didn’t make it past my throat.
“Need I remind you of the fact that I don’t need shit from any of you?” he said with a slight, almost playful smile. “I’m not the one asking for a favor. You don’t want to do this my way, fine. But there’s no other way. So you can get the fu—”
“No.” The word burst from me. “We can do this.”
“We cannot,” Daemon said.
Lotho arched his brows. “I’m confused.”
I turned in his arms until I faced Daemon. “You promised to try.”
“I did.” He was staring over me, pupils white once more. “I tried. He’s being a—”
“Nothing has even happened,” I cut in, trying to reason with him. “So we haven’t tried. Not yet.” I really wished Lotho wasn’t lying on the bed behind us, smirking, because that was so not helping anything.
“Please.” I clasped Daemon’s cheeks, forcing him to look at me. My words carried the weight of everything riding on this. “We have to do this.”
Daemon closed his eyes, and several long moments passed before he spoke in a voice that ripped up my insides. He only said one word. “Go.”
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding and then took another I didn’t need. I tried to step back, but his grip was fierce. I gently grasped his arms, and it took everything in me to force him to let go.
He did, and by the way the heat flared off him, it looked like it killed him. And hell, it tore me up. Eyes burning with tears I couldn’t let fall, I turned around and stepped toward Lotho.
I had to do this.
There would be pain—lots of it. There would be revulsion—a ton of that. As I forced my feet toward the edge of the bed, a bright white light reflected off the walls. Daemon had shifted into his true form.
Kitten . . .
Sucking in a shaky breath, I sat on the bed, my hands trembling so badly I couldn’t feel the tips of my fingers. This was wrong, so wrong.
Lotho reached out, and I had to force myself to sit still as he placed his hand on my cheek. His fingers were so bitterly cold, and I flinched as he sat up, pressing his other hand into the bed next to my hip. He leaned in, and his hand slipped down my throat, sending waves of revulsion and fear rippling through me. Lotho wasn’t even watching me. His gaze was fixed on where Daemon stood, his lips spread into a taunting grin.
I’m sorry. Those two words blazed through my consciousness. I can’t allow this.
My body locked up as I prepared for a whole lot of bad to go down, and then it did. Daemon was a blur of light as he lunged toward us.
Everything happened so fast.
I was pulled off the bed, thrown away from the bone-chilling cold, and Daemon was leaning over Lotho. Horror set in as I realized it was Lotho holding him there without even touching him. Wind roared from behind me, blowing my hair across my face. It was like the Arum was a vacuum, sucking everything toward him.
Suddenly, Daemon was tossed back against the wall, and he was held there, several feet off the floor, as Lotho stood at the foot of the bed.
I couldn’t let this happen to Daemon, but we couldn’t walk out of here without Lotho’s help.
“Stop!” I shouted, rushing forward without really thinking that one through.
“Please! Just do it now.”
Lotho glanced at me, a quizzical expression on his face, and then a toothy grin appeared. I squared my shoulders.
But he didn’t. Lotho . . . he flopped onto his back and let out a loud cackle of laughter as he pulled his knees up and planted his booted feet on the bed. The force pinning Daemon against the wall eased off and he landed on the floor.