Immortals After Dark 10 - Demon From the Dark

knew."
    "Particle Man, Particle Man, doing the things a particle can ."
    Between gritted teeth, she said, "Ruby, stop singing."
    She pouted, flouncing to the foot of the Sorceri's bunk. "You said we were going home!" She reminded Carrow of that constantly.
    Emberine rose and tsked. "Carrow is mean, isn't she?"
    Carrow no longer tried to keep Ruby separated from the Sorceri. Because of their being trapped in a ten-by-ten-foot cell together and all. The two were continually slinking around Ruby, gazing at her with interest, tilting their heads at the girl as if they couldn't quite place something about her.
    "You've been sharp with her," Lanthe murmured.
    Carrow hissed back, "Don't you feel the tension?"
    "From you."
    "You're the one who told me to be firmer with her."
    "Particle Man, Particle Man --"
    Carrow leapt to her feet. "Ruby, damn it! I said no ."
    Lanthe yanked her to the other side of the cell, muttering, "Gods, Carrow, why didn't you just snap, 'Mummy has a headache! Go fetch Mummy's scotch!'?"
    Ember cried, "Hide the wire hangers!"
    Ruby asked, "Why hide the wire hangers?"
    Portia patted her head. "May you never find out."
    "I told her not to sing, and she's still doing it"--Carrow leaned around Lanthe to glare at Ruby--"just to annoy me."
    "Of course, that's it," Lanthe said. "Not because she's seven, with no toys or anything else to occupy her. Think about it--the high point of our day is when they drag by victims."
    Earlier, it'd been Regin again. As the guards had hauled the Valkyrie past Carrow's cell, her normally radiant skin had been ghostly. Blood had streamed from her mouth.
    "Carrow ... is that y-you?" She'd coughed, spattering crimson. "Can't s-see."
    Carrow had leapt to the glass, motioning for Lanthe to cover Ruby's eyes. "I'm here!" she'd said, cringing at the V of staples that tracked from Regin's collarbone down toward her stomach. Vivisection.
    "Kill him, witch!" Regin's voice had sounded crazed, her amber eyes darting blindly and spilling with tears. "Curse Chase. He ordered this." Never have I seen fearless Regin cry. "He is Aidan the Fierce. T-tell my sisters."
    "Aidan, the berserker?" Carrow had heard Regin speak of him before.
    "Aidan the Betrayer," she'd screamed as they dragged her away, "Aidan the Defiler!" To the guards, she'd shrieked, "You fools! You're following one of our kind! You take orders from one of us. ..."
    Centuries ago, Aidan--one of Woden's berserker warriors--had fallen in love with Regin, one of Woden's beloved daughters. Aidan had been killed, but he'd continued to reincarnate, seeking Regin in different lifetimes.
    Could Chase be Aidan ? And why would Regin believe Carrow could escape before Regin ever could?
    Now Carrow exhaled. "You're right, Lanthe. I am freaking out." She pinched the bridge of her nose and lowered her voice. "But I have a male in the same building who wants to gruesomely murder me!"
    Lanthe scoffed. "Like I don't?"
    "One day you'll have to tell me what went down with you and Thronos."
    "What went down? How apropos," she said, her tone cryptic. Before Carrow could question her, Lanthe said, "But that's a story for another time. We're predicting your gruesome murder now. And speak of the demon, they intend to bring him out."
    "How can you tell?"
    "Look, they have twice the number of guards as usual, and they're heading for the end of the ward. So it's either Slaine or Lothaire."
    Let it be Lothaire.
    Carrow snapped her fingers at Ruby. "Go behind the screen."
    "Crow, I wanna see--"
    "Now!"

Chapter 29

    The witch is in a dark building, filled with screeching sounds and intermittent explosions of light. Dressed in skintight leather trews and a skimpy vest, she dances provocatively atop a table with a redheaded friend. Together they tease scores of males.
    Drunken from spirits, Carrow leisurely begins unfastening her top. One button, then the next. The crowd cheers wildly, throwing colored necklaces at her, urging her on. She holds the edges of her loosed top together, shimmying forward, working the males into a furor .
    When their calls grow deafening, she proudly displays her breasts, shoulders back and chin lifted.
    Malkom jerked upright on his cot, waking into a fresh rage. How could she let those men leer at her body like that? Why taunt their desires?
    Just as she had with him!
    He rose, pacing his cell. Yet another new memory of the witch's. Though they'd begun coming each time he slept, full-blown scenes like this were rare--but always