Free 1305 & 1306 The Oracle & the Vampire (The 13th Floor) by Christine Rains Page B

his chest. Every cell in his body sizzled and screamed. The fire may not have kept burning, but it was agony in its purest form.
    He thought he might be crying, or it could’ve been the demon laughing. Sounds blurred. The stench of burnt flesh— his flesh—filled his nostrils and sickened him as much as the pain. The taste of it coated his tongue and churned his stomach. Kiral didn’t even notice the shackles until the bastard dropped him. The chains rattled as Kiral collapsed onto the rough floor.
    Pushing himself over, Kiral rolled onto his back. Not a floor. There was the late night sky. Glancing from side to side, he tried to gather some control to make sense of his surroundings.
    A rooftop. He was on a building somewhere.
    Chained to a rooftop. No. Dawn was too close. Harriet was out there.
    Kiral yanked at one chain and then the other. Metal bit into his flesh. Thoughts of gnawing off his hands to escape zipped through his mind.
    Cement anchors attached the chains to a roof. He should be able to get free of them. Why weren’t they breaking?
    “Try as you will, vamp, but you’ll find you’re quite stuck.” The demon chuckled and strolled into view before sitting on the ledge. He twirled a cigarette, tossed it up, and caught the butt with his mouth. The end flared bright on its own as he puffed on it. “I’ve strengthened the chains with spells. I don’t think I could even break them if I were so inclined.”
    Kiral spit out a few choice Turkish curse words and continued to test the power of his bonds. Harriet was somewhere in Carmine. He’d find her. Nothing would stop him.
    The demon watched him struggle for a few minutes, finished his cigarette, and tossed it over his shoulder. Standing, the prick held his hands out, palms up. “Aren’t you even going to ask why I’m doing this? Don’t you want to know who is responsible? I didn’t expect you to beg or any of that wussy crap, but you must be curious. You want to know.”
    “It doesn’t matter. When I break free, I will rip you limb from limb.” Kiral growled and lunged at the demon. The chains held him back, nearly pulling his arms out of their sockets, but that pain was nothing. It melted into the dreadful song of his burns.
    Harriet. She was all that mattered.
    And her grandmother. Kiral would find her too.
    The crone offered her soul for his. Did he remember that right? The old woman pushed past him and faced a demon. No minor demon either. Why? For her granddaughter? No, surely Harriet would be more devastated by the loss of her grandmother than him.
    She wasn’t old enough to be a grandmother, though. Demon trickery?
    “You’re thinking too much, and it isn’t about what I want you to think about.” The demon snapped his fingers to bring Kiral’s attention back to him. “Come on now. Focus. You want to know who is responsible for this. You want to know why I brought Hell to this city.”
    Kiral hissed as the demon snatched a handful of his hair and made him nod. Snapping at the bastard made Kiral feel like a rabid dog smacked with a newspaper.
    “That’s better. See? You want to know.” The fiend clapped his hands together with a creepy titter. “You’re here because Marc tried to take you away from me. I don’t share very well. He’s put on a good show. All blustery and hulky and furry. What do you think of his beard? It doesn’t suit him, right?”
    The bastard was insane. And Kiral knew what that felt like. The craving had made him do crazy things, but this was beyond mad.
    Marc saved him from making a horrible mistake. He’d never purposely bring such a nightmare onto Carmine. Was this demon really that petty?
    “Anyway,” the demon said and twirled his hand in big circles. “He helped you, and then he wouldn’t lie down and die. All I wanted was his head. It would’ve been so much easier that way. But now I have you and his pretty lady. Don’t worry. I still think you’re pretty too. I’ll have him choose between