I stared ahead of me, rubbing my sore shoulder as I gaped at the large golden bars that had appeared out of nowhere in front of me, blocking the aisle as they formed what looked like a gate, topped with razor-sharp spikes that pierced the air several feet above my head.
I raised my sword like a bat, swinging at the bars as if I were trying to hit a home run. Instead of knocking the bars down, the blade ricocheted off them with a dull clang, throwing me off my feet as my sword vibrated in my hand.
And then I heard a soft chuckle from the balcony above.
“I knew I needed a gilded cage to catch this little bird, but I had no idea she’d run so willingly into it.”
That familiar voice floated over the sounds of Bor’s angry snarls—that familiar voice that clawed my already raw nerves to shreds. Trembling, I scrambled to my feet, retreating away from the golden contraption, this creation of Aiden’s designed to somehow torment me. Would it electrocute me? Impale me with those spikes? Unleash whiplike spines intended to slash me to pieces like his last little invention?
That was the problem with magical torture devices invented by demons—the possibilities for inflicting pain really were endless.
I looked up, finding Aiden leaning forward on the balcony, his chin resting in his hands as if he were watching a cute scene play out in the theater.
In a sick way, that’s exactly what he was doing.
“Oh, no, little bird, I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” he purred, grinning at me with his calculating, confident smile as he rubbed his shoulder. He appeared to be wearing some kind of armor over his right side, where Logan had stabbed him previously, and he tapped it, mimicking a beating heart.
I screamed for Logan, but he didn’t hear me over Bor’s savage howls, which reverberated in the auditorium. Logan’s back was to me as he furiously hacked apart the bloodied demon. Bor’s left arm was gone at the elbow, his right arm a dark, pulpy patchwork of deep gashes as it wildly clawed for Logan. Bor was nothing but a relentless, ruthless beast, tasked with distracting Logan so Aiden could get to me. And it was working.
“He can’t help you now,” Aiden cooed, a delighted smile on his face. “I just love how useful a rage demon can be. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but it took me forever to find just the right guy for the job.”
A shimmering, spark-filled mist coiled around the bars on both ends of the gate. The sparks condensed into a vertical line, solidifying into another golden pole. Then another. The mist was everywhere as the golden bars began multiplying, one tall, spike-topped pole after another materializing at a rapid pace, lining the aisle where I stood.
Caging me in.
Logan’s shouts echoed in my ears as I turned on my heel and started racing toward the stage. I had to outrun the bars that kept appearing, forming an expanding cage that threatened to wrap around me, trapping me in this magical jail. The bars made a sharp turn inward as I reached the end of the aisle, and I flung my sword on the stage, the blade hitting the floorboards as I launched myself forward. My fingers gripped the high edge of the stage and I hoisted myself up. I’d just managed to swing my other leg up, and I rolled across the boards as the golden bars crashed into the stage with a dull clang before disintegrating into mist.
I heard a loud swear from Aiden, followed by a slamming door as I grabbed my sword again, pushing myself into a standing position with one hand. My eyes first fell on the now-empty balcony before searching for Logan, who was taking one final swing at Bor’s neck. The demon’s furious roar sputtered—turning into a sickening gurgle as Logan sliced through his throat. Then Bor was silent, and the only sound was the hollow, dull thud of the demon’s head landing on the floor, where it unevenly rolled down the sloped floor of the auditorium. Bor’s body remained standing, his weight swaying back and forth. With the tip of his sword, Logan poked Bor’s chest, and the beast fell back with a weighty thud that reverberated in the auditorium.
Logan spun around quickly and ran toward me, leaping on the stage and joining my side in mere seconds.
“Paige, are you hurt?” he asked, his tone agitated but his face full of nothing but concern as his eyes roamed over me, checking for injuries.
“I’m okay,” I said in a trembling voice, my body shaking as I tried to come down from my adrenaline overdose. “But Aiden was here. He was in the balcony, he almost trapped me,” I told him, and Logan’s eyes narrowed as they darted from the now-empty balcony around the auditorium.
“Come on, we’re getting you out of here.” He wrapped his arm around me as he started swiftly ushering me to the edge of the stage, his head swiveling around as he glared at all the darkened corners of the auditorium. I knelt down to hop off the stage when I noticed movement on the balcony.
“He’s here!” I yelled, pointing up at the balcony, where Aiden had his arm pitched back, a bulging satchel slung across his chest. He pulled out his fist and flung a handful of coins at us, light glinting off the shiny metal discs as they flew through the air. The spines unfurled, lashing at the air with audible whipping sounds as Aiden reached back into his bag for more ammo.
Logan grabbed me around the waist, spinning and pulling me into his arms as we ran into the wings. As if they could see where we were hiding, the discs sharply turned to seek us out. The small, deadly weapons whizzed above, and we dove to the floor, the discs embedding themselves in the wall behind where our heads had been moments earlier.
We huddled on the floor, Logan’s body covering mine as the projectiles flew overhead. They pierced the forest backdrop, shredding the painted canvas into long, heavy sheets that tumbled to the stage alongside sparks from the severed electrical wires.
The discs relentlessly flew overhead, glittering gold whips lashing at the walls backstage and shattering them like they were made of thin crystal, not thick concrete. Metal crunched loudly next to me as the coins found the door to the dressing rooms, the thrashing spines effortlessly carving the steel into slivers.
I burrowed my face into Logan’s neck, my fingers clinging to his shirt as his hand rested against the exposed side of my face, keeping me shielded. And then he cried out, his head falling to my shoulder. I felt him shudder in pain as one of the gold discs sliced into the wall just inches over his shoulder.
I tried to disentangle from him, desperate to check his injury, throw myself over his wounded back—protect him in some way—but Logan braced himself above me with one palm over my shoulder. His other arm wound around me, keeping me close against his chest.
“You’re hurt!” I cried, but Logan merely gripped me more tightly.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, still protecting me in spite of his pain. I shut my eyes as chunks of black-painted concrete rained down, the coins scarring the walls with deep gouges.
And suddenly it was over—the auditorium grew quiet again, and the only noises piercing the silence were the faint, steady sounds of concrete chips dropping on the floor, the flapping of the shredded canvas and the popping sound of sparks from the severed wires on the stage.
Logan pressed his finger to my lips as we listened for Aiden.
“He’s gotta be out of ammo. He won’t face me in hand-to-hand,” he whispered, wincing as a bolt of pain shuddered through him.
I tugged on his collar, begging him with my eyes to let me up, but he just shook his head. Logan took a deep breath before shouting, “Nice try. Wanna come face me so I can skewer you again?” His voice sounded strong and clear, but his face told another story, his features twisted in agony.
We heard the unmistakable sound of a door slamming, and Logan relaxed slightly. Still, we remained crouched against the floorboards, tangled up in each other until we heard the indisputable sign that Aiden truly was gone: Dottie and Travis were back—and they were frantically calling our names.