Free A Demon And His Witch by Eve Langlais

chest. “Thank you. But since you didn’t know I was here, something else obviously brought you.”
    “I’m here on behalf of our Lord. I am investigating the escape of five of your prisoners.” And there went Crax’s jovial smile, which, for the uninitiated was more frightening than the scowl he currently sported.
    “Those bloody fuckers. We got one of them back last night. He’s getting reacquainted with the rack as we speak.”
    “Did you question him on how he escaped?” Ysabel asked before Remy could.
    Crax’s yellow gaze took her in before he answered. “I asked. He won’t answer. Some kind of spell is stopping him. I’ve called in the Lord’s witch to take a look since my resident magikers can tell me nothing.”
    “Might we have a turn? My lady friend and I have an interest in the case and have our Lord’s permission to investigate.”
    “Be my guest.”
    Crax led them through a warren of hallways, some of the archways branching off, showing scenes of fire and torture, others whipping, some skinning, and one strange one involving tickling.
    The warden saw Remy ogling and chuckled. “That there psycho thinks that laughter is a sin. Killed the neighbor’s kids because they kept giggling in their yards. So, we spend all day making him laugh. You should hear the chap sobbing in his cell at night as he beats his head on the wall.”
    Yeah, like he said, Lucifer excelled at what he did.
    Entering a part of the building that seemed awfully quiet compared to the rest of their journey, Remy frowned. “Do you have silence dampening spells on this section?”
    Crax shook his head. “I told you that Pedro fellow wasn’t talking. And I mean at all. Not a scream or peep no matter what we do. It’s freaking the boys out.”
    It freaked him out, never mind the others, and flicking a quick glance at Ysabel, he saw the troubled line on her forehead.
    They entered a chamber, well lit with fluorescent lights which made the scene shine in all its gory details. Suffice it to say, it was nasty, even by his standards, and bloody, hence the drains in the floor.
    Ysabel stepped daintily over the red rivulets inching their way down into Hell’s plumbing until she stood in front of a large rack. Splayed, spread eagle and raw, like meat skinned for a spit, was their friend from the night before, Pedro, and he didn’t look like a happy resident of the Pit which suited Remy just fine. Scumbags deserved punishment.
    Despite the lack of noise, only a blind idiot wouldn’t notice that Pedro suffered. His eyes bulged. His mouth hung open in a silent scream, but nothing, not even the hiss of air could be heard. It wasn’t right. Even mutes made noise.
    Remy watched as his witch eyed the man up and down, then sketched some symbols in the air. He caught a hint of magic, the ozone scent and electrifying tingle giving her attempts away. The scene didn’t change and it remained quiet enough to keep even a baby demon sleeping.
    After a few moments, she turned, appearing pensive. “Whatever has him bound is strong. And subtle. I can’t even see the threads to the spell preventing him from speaking.”
    “Which means he definitely had some kind of outside aid in escaping.”
    “Impossible,” sputtered Crax. “We monitor visitors closely. Frisk them more thoroughly than their lovers.”
    “You can’t see magic though,” she advised dryly.
    Crax scowled at her observation.
    “We’ll need copies of the visitor logs,” Remy ordered. “And I want to see their cells. Maybe their mysterious benefactor left a clue.”
    “Of course. Follow me.”
    Ysabel strode after Crax, and Remy dropped back, more to admire her ass than anything else. Round, with enough cushion for the pushing, he couldn’t wait to –
    “It looks even better bent over,” she tossed over her shoulder. “Not that you’ll ever see that. I save that for my special friends.” She laughed, a husky sound that went straight to his cock and stroked him. Then