Free Date With Death (Welcome To Hell) by Eve Langlais Page A

run. It will go harder on you if you do.”
    “What exactly is it that you want?”
    “Blood. Pain. Mayhem. All three. My friends and I aren’t picky.”
    They also didn’t bathe judging by the malodorous scent wafting her way. “Listen. You really don’t want to do this.”
    “Oh yes, we do,” said the squattest of the demons, his dark green skin adorned with warts and pustules. “Your father’s going to regret pissing us off.”
    “But I don’t even know who my father is.” Marigold wanted to scream in frustration. When I find out who that deadbeat is, I’m gonna blister his ears until he goes deaf, and kick him in the shin for messing up my sex-life. And punish him for the damage to her face because somehow, she doubted the menacing demons would treat her gently.
    “Not our problem,” it replied, approaching along with its companions.
    “Stop where you are!” she ordered imperiously. “My boyfriend will be back any minute and you really don’t want to piss him off.”
    “Then we’d better kill you quick.”
    With a squeak, Marigold dove to the side and away from the claws swinging at her. They still snagged on her shirt, tearing a hole, but at least it wasn’t her skin. She ran, but there was nowhere to go. The door to the building was behind their advancing line, leaving her only with a choice of fight or a swan dive off twelve stories.
    I just need to hold them off long enough for Mick to get here. He’ll kick their asses for me! She might be a witch, but her powers lay in potions, not lightning bolts zapping from her fingertips. As for her newfound power to shatter glass, she tried to imagine the demons imploding to no effect.
    Fast and tricky, it was what she needed to stay out of reach of a very painful death. A great plan against humans, but against demons, she didn’t stand a chance. And they knew it.
    They toyed with her, barking with guttural laughter as they spun her from one slimy grasp to another, their sharp claws leaving scratches that stung all over her body. Her vision blurred, and dizzy, she sank to the ground, unable to prevent her knees from buckling. Between the spined and scaled legs, she saw the door to the rooftop open. Coffee and donuts went flying as Mick charged at the group of demons with a fierce bellow.
    “Bastards! You’ll pay for your actions.”
    Pay how much? she wondered inanely. Marigold tried to keep her eyes open, she so wanted to watch her lover in action, but her lids fluttered shut against her will, pulled down as if cement blocks were tied to her lashes. She listened to the grunts and meaty smacks of Mick exacting vengeance. Ha! Take that you nasty creatures. She wished the muscles in her face would move so she could smile.
    It took too much effort. Darkness beckoned and she allowed herself to slip in its numbing embrace.

Chapter Twelve
    Fury boiled the blood in his veins. Gone only minutes to fetch his witch sustenance and he returned to find her getting pummeled. Unacceptable. Did they not know who they messed with? Did these lower caste demons not have any respect for their elders anymore?
    They would once he was done with them. T he demons who’d dared to touch his witch learned what it meant to raise the wrath of a god. He demolished them with his fists—meaty, bone-crunching blows no mortal creature could have withstood. His rage gave him extra strength, enough to rip limbs free and then swing them as a club, knocking the unworthy creatures around until they crawled, dripping ichor and blubbering for mercy.
    As if he’d give them any.
    Mictain dragged them back to face more of his justice, not satisfied until they cried, begged, and pleaded for death. Then, and only then, did he send them to Hell where he knew Lucifer would make them suffer some more. In his mind, an eternity wouldn’t be enough, not for what they’d done to his Marigold.
    Speaking of whom, she didn’t look too healthy. He knelt at her side, wincing at the cuts and bruises