“Liar,” the prisoner said.

Tristol was very still. So still it made Anna afraid. The guard was shaking in his boots. Tristol turned toward him, whispered something, and left.

The guard stood in front of the prisoner’s cell, his manner docile. “Time for another trip.”

The prisoner’s body tensed. “Move back and be quiet,” he whispered to Anna, and then he stepped away from her, toward the door.

“Not you,” the guard said. “Her. Let’s go.”

“No,” the prisoner whispered. He gripped Anna’s hand so hard it hurt. “No!”

The guard opened the cell and took out his gun. “Now.”

The prisoner kept his body between Anna and the door. “No. Take me.”

The guard pointed his gun at Anna. “Get out of the way, or I’ll shoot her. You think she’d be just as pretty missing a finger or a toe? Maybe an ear.”

Anna pulled her hand free and touched the prisoner’s arm. “Please.” If he didn’t stop, they would hurt him again. She was afraid he couldn’t withstand another beating. “I’m coming.” You fat toad. She went to the door and slipped out. The guard locked it as the prisoner rattled the bars.

“Take me!” he roared. “You bloody bastard.”

“Not this time,” the guard said.

The minute Anna stepped outside, she turned on the guard. She spun and kicked him in the crotch. He doubled over, and Anna lunged for his gun, but the guard quickly recovered and jumped out of reach, pointing the weapon at her head.

“Stop,” the prisoner pleaded.

Anna took her eyes off the angry guard and looked at the prisoner. His eyes were desperate. “Don’t fight him. He’ll make it worse. I beg you.”

She clenched her jaw and let the guard march her toward the torture room. She glanced back and saw the prisoner pulling against the bars.

* * *

Tristol watched from the shadows as the warrior tried to bend the cell bars. His muscles bulged, and one of the bars gave. Magnificent. Tristol smiled. This was what he wanted to harness. Even brutalized—and the guard would pay for taking it too far—the warrior was powerful and fiercely loyal. He would fight to the death for Anna. Both were characteristics Tristol hoped to breed into his vampires.

And Anna was a surprise. A pleasant one. She had a body and face that would bring human males to their knees. Tristol wasn’t usually attracted to human females, but this was the closest he’d gotten to Anna, and he had to admit that she was one of the most stunning of any species that he’d seen. Even imprisoned, with her gown torn and dirty, she exuded beauty, power, and grace. But that beauty was wrapped in fury now. If not for the gun, the guard would already be dead instead of nursing sore balls.

Both warriors would have to be moved. Tristol didn’t trust the bars or his guards now. It was obvious that Bart was lying. He would pay for abusing the experiments. Lance would pay too. It was time to take charge of this experiment. The outcome was too important to let anything stand in the way, even the Dark One’s frequent summons, which were interfering with Tristol’s plans.

The breeding plan had been twofold. Feed his vampires some of Faelan’s blood to strengthen them and then breed the warrior with his most powerful female vampire. If the outcome was successful, he would gather more warriors. He hadn’t planned to use female warriors yet, since they couldn’t produce as many children as quickly. But since Anna was already here, why waste the opportunity? He would breed her with one of his male vampires. There was no one quite like Anna. No one with her pedigree, though she didn’t realize it. He had only discovered it himself recently. If he could combine her strength and prowess with that of his strongest male vampire, the results could have great potential.

A roar sounded down the corridor, and Tristol had a brilliant idea. His hybrid had some vampire blood, but was still mostly human. Tristol hadn’t been able to determine his ability to reproduce since the hybrid killed all the female vampires as soon as they were brought to him. There was more warrior blood in him than vampire blood. Perhaps he would recognize Anna as a fellow warrior and not kill her. With Anna’s genetics and the hybrid’s, a child born to them could prove to have extraordinary abilities. If the plan succeeded, then he would give her to his best male vampire. Or keep her for himself.

He hadn’t created his own offspring because a child could become a weak link. Most ancient demons avoided procreating for the same reason. The other demons would use the child against the father. Especially in his case. All demons were bitterly jealous of his position. But two of the League were gone. After Voltar was destroyed, Tristol would have greater freedom to pursue his goals.

In a black mist, he moved to the cell where the warrior was still struggling to break free. “Calm yourself,” he said to the warrior. He didn’t want him injuring himself to get to Anna.

The warrior had no choice but to stop moving, but his face was still filled with rage. Along with the swelling, he made a frightening sight.

“Sleep. You will need your rest.”

The warrior tried to fight it, but his eyelids started to droop, and he leaned against the wall.

“Sleep,” Tristol said again, and when the warrior slumped to the floor, he went to catch up with the guard and Anna.

* * *

Anna wanted to rip the guard into pieces. She was considering giving it another go when Tristol appeared in front of them. She stopped in surprise. Where had he come from? Again, she felt the compelling pull and had to force herself to stand still.

“Change of plans. Put her back there,” he said, nodding deeper into the dungeon.

“But he’s—”

“Yes. Exactly.”

The guard’s look of surprise didn’t bode well with Anna. When she glanced back at Tristol, he was gone, as if he’d simply vanished. She wasn’t aware of any demons with that ability.

“Let’s go then,” the guard said.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To see him.” He gave her a cruel smile.

Him? Surely he didn’t mean the hybrid. “Are you taking me to the hybrid?”

“You know about him?”

“I heard you talking. What is he?”

“You’ll see.” He sneered at her. “And he’ll probably be the last thing you see. The other women didn’t last ten minutes with him. And they were special.” The guard sniffed Anna. “You smell good. Really good. Maybe he’ll like you.”

“Get your nose away from me or I’ll break it.”

“Let’s see if you talk that tough after he’s finished with you.”

The hybrid must be part of the breeding plan. God no.

Anna considered her options. The guard was out of reach. If she attacked him, he’d probably shoot her. Even if he didn’t, if she managed to kill him, Tristol would come after her. He was probably watching now. She’d never seen anyone move with such stealth. She couldn’t attack Tristol without being assigned. That would be instant death. And Tristol would take out his anger on the prisoner.

The only thing she could do was wait for a better opportunity. Where? In a locked cell? Piss-poor options. Better than dying now and leaving the prisoner alone in this hellhole.

The guard forced her down the long, dark corridor. They paused at a doorway blocked by iron bars. The guard pushed a lever, and the bars lifted.

Lance appeared behind them. “What are you doing here?”

The guard paused, repositioning the gun at Anna’s head. “Taking her to him.”

Lance seemed surprised. “He’s going to breed her?”

Anna’s throat tightened. The other man she’d felt in the cell when she woke up must have been the hybrid. He hadn’t killed her then, or done anything worse. Maybe he wouldn’t this time.

“She’ll probably be killed like the others,” the guard said. “Why are you here? The master is looking for you.”

“Tristol’s servant had a question for you. I can take this one if you want to go.”

The guard looked hesitantly at Anna. “Hell, she’ll die anyway,” he muttered. He handed Lance the gun and hurried away.

Lance’s helpful expression faded the minute the guard left. “Just you and me now,” he said, pressing the gun to her head. She felt a sting in her arm.

“What was in that needle?” she asked, rubbing the spot. Had he drugged her or poisoned her?

“Something to keep you from fighting back. When he’s finished with you, you won’t be talking to anyone.” Lance laughed and steered her several more yards toward a thick iron door. “Step back.”

Anna debated whether she could take him. He wasn’t as strong as the fat guard, but he had the gun, and the drug was already kicking in.

He unlocked the door and shoved her inside. “Good riddance,” he said, slamming the door.

She pressed herself close to the door and reached for her talisman, forgetting it was gone. She searched the shadows of the dark room. There wasn’t even a sconce here. Slowly she made out shapes in the dark. A sink, like the one in her cell, and a toilet, a bench. This one even had a bed. And someone was in it. A sound came from the bed, something between a growl and a cry.

She stayed near the door, fists clenched, ready for an attack. But her legs were already wobbling from the drugs Lance had given her. This would probably be her last fight. Images raced through her mind. People she loved. The people she considered her family—Angus, Ronan, Faelan, Duncan, even irritating Brodie with his pranks. And the women. She’d never been close to women, only Sorcha, until Bree and Shay. Then there were the people she hated—like her father. You didn’t have to know someone to hate them. And lastly, the prisoner. She couldn’t leave him alone with these monsters. He was powerful, but he was hurt.