Icy water ran down Rosalind’s face, and she gasped. Her eyes snapped open, but she could see only white light filtering through dark canvas. Panic coursed through her, nearly drowning out the screaming pain in her lungs. Something covered her head—a hood, probably, and a rough piece of fabric gagged her mouth, compressing her tongue. She coughed, nearly choking on the cloth. Its oily taste was suffocating.
She needed to get out of there, but she couldn’t move. Coarse rope bound her wrists behind her back at an awkward angle. She tried to tear her wrists free, and her skin chafed against the rope. Terror exploded through her skull. Her arms had been fastened tightly to behind the back of a chair. When she tried to move her legs, she found they were trapped by rope, too. She was completely helpless, unable to do anything except exist.
She took a deep breath, the air burning her lungs. Gasoline. She was in one of the interrogation rooms.
By the deep ache in her chest and the sharp whistling sound, she could tell a bullet had collapsed one of her lungs, even if Caine had partially healed it.
Heels echoed on a concrete floor, and someone yanked the hood from her head. Her captor strode in front of her, peering into her bleary eyes.
Rosalind stared into the pale, freckled face of Randolph Loring. She glanced to the right and caught a glimpse of Caine, his body bound to a chair with thick, iron chains—chains that would leach all the power out of an incubus. Black duct-tape covered his mouth, and blood soaked his chest from gunshot wounds to his shoulders.
She gazed around at the iron-walled room. It was nearly bare. A bright light shone overhead, and a metal watering can stood on the floor by two cement blocks. There was a video camera mounted on a wall. She’d seen this setup before, and the sight turned her blood to ice.
Caine’s blackened eyes burned into General Loring with an ancient, primal hatred.
Loring leaned down, examining Rosalind’s eyes. His cold fingers slid over her cheeks, and she shuddered.
In desperation, she wanted to tell him how much she hated being tied up, but the cloth still gagged her. Raw panic gripped her lungs like a vise.
“Mmm. I can see you’d like to speak,” he said tonelessly. He pulled a knife from his belt, cutting through the cloth.
She gasped, looking up at him. “Please untie me.”
“I don’t think so, Rosalind. You look so much like your sister.” He shook his head. “Do you know, Rosalind, that I’d wanted to promote you? We were alike, or so I thought. Not everyone understands that we must take extraordinary measures to fight evil, or that there are strict lines separating the pure from the corrupted. Not everyone has a visceral revulsion to magic like I do. Not everyone understands that the demons won’t respect us if we’re weak and refuse to fight back. I thought you and I were the same.”
“Magic still repulses me,” she said. Apart from Caine’s magic, but she wasn’t going to bring that up now.
“It is a poison. A toxin that corrupts a human body. You seemed to understand that. I’d been watching you from afar. I’d hoped you’d work on our security team. I’d heard about you, and your clever skills. I thought perhaps you’d make a nice wife for one of my officers, or even me. I didn’t know we had a traitor in our midst. We’ll have to be more careful in the future.”
They were in one of the cells deep below the ground in the Chambers. A thick metal door blocked their exit. There was no way in or out of this room without a retinal scan. Even if she could get out of this chair, her own retinas wouldn’t make the “approved” list. She was thoroughly screwed. In a frenzy, she tugged at her wrists, the chair rattling on the floorboards. “General Loring. I didn’t realize you knew so much about me. It is nice to finally meet you.”
Randolph folded his hands behind his back, pacing. “I think Josiah was in love with you. It must have broken his heart to learn you’re corrupted with filth. I’ve promised he could interrogate you. I think it will make him feel better. He asked if Caine could watch, and I granted him his wish.”
Her mouth was dry, and she tried to focus on his words as she tugged at the ropes. “Watch what?”
Randolph tilted his head. “Watch what he does to you. It’s an acceptable strategy. The demon may choose to confess everything to save you. But of course, demons have no compassion at all, nor do you, I suppose. You’re not human anymore. It’s fascinating, really. You do look human. Beautiful, even. Though when Josiah is finished with his interrogation that may not be the case.”
Cold dread snaked up her spine. “I want a trial.”
Randolph crinkled his brow. “What for? We know you’re guilty. We’re no longer required to waste time with paperwork and legal nonsense. We’re at war. Moreover, the sixth amendment only applies to humans. Same for the eighth amendment.”
“The prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment.”
“Exactly. They don’t apply to your species.” He stared at the floor as he paced, his eyes never meeting hers.
“I’m human.”