Demonic and Deserted (Eternally Yours Book 4) by Tara West Page A

“Why have you brought us here?” I demanded, wincing as blinding pain shot up my severed limb.
    “Why? To make a trade, of course,” he answered as a slow smile broke his face in two.
    “A trade for what?” I cringed, awaiting his response. Either way, I knew we were going to get screwed on this deal.
    But the demon didn’t answer me. He simply smiled and snapped his fingers. The ground shook beneath me, nearly sending me toppling to the floor as several creatures with bull heads and human bodies marched into the room. Dressed in armor plating and wide helmets, and wielding huge spears, they were at least nine feet tall with shoulders wider than any linebacker’s.
    “Take the fallen to his chamber and the cursed to the dungeon,” the demon said to the creatures.
    I whipped out my nun chucks and tried to fight, but a monster snatched the weapon out of my hand and flung me over his shoulder. I struggled against him, holding a hand down to Melanie before she and the other priestesses were ushered away by the bulls. O’Connor fought his captor, though it didn’t take long before he, too, was subdued and carried off with the girls.
    My leg throbbed as the bull bounced me around like a sack of potatoes and finally deposited me on a bed in the center of a lavish, Grecian-styled room, complete with a personal infinity pool flanked by marble columns and a blue sky backdrop. The sound of waves crashing on a shoreline could be heard beyond the breezeway.
    Our host had said we were on the bottom of hell. How could this be? I had always been told that sub-level thirteen was by far the worst of the dimensions, an eternal burning lake of fire, not a Grecian paradise.
    I exhaled shakily after the bull left. I was in the same state I’d been in just before I died, bleeding out all over the place. Only back then, my soldiers had tried in vain to tourniquet my wound, and I’d succumbed to the loss of blood. Since I was at the bottom of Hell, I knew I couldn’t die again, but the pain from my injury was nearly enough to make me pass out. I bit my lip, cursing as I wrapped a sheet around my bloody stump. Blood soaked through it in no time, and I watched helplessly as the fabric began to drip. I cursed the damned spiders for putting me in this situation, and my host, who had to be Satan, and Cam for leaving me here. I prayed Cam would be back with reinforcements.
    My thoughts drifted to Melanie and the others. Our host had sent the cursed to the dungeon. I worried she’d be tortured or worse. I had to get out of here, but how? I was useless with half a leg.
    “Oh, you poor thing. Come. Let me help you.”
    My jaw dropped, and I blinked hard as the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen emerged from the bathtub, water dripping off her lush, bare breasts and thick mane of dark hair. She had olive skin, big almond eyes, and full ruby lips I knew would feel warm and welcoming wrapped around my cock. Her skin glistened like starlight as she stood beneath a ray of sun, drying herself with a towel. When she approached my bed, she smoothed a hand down a flat stomach before cupping her mound and unabashedly stroking herself, biting her lip and moaning her delight.
    “I’m sorry,” she giggled, “but it has been a long while since I have seen such a virile man. You have made me wet with desire.”
    Holy fuck.
    My cock twitched in response, but just a twitch. I would have completely fallen under her spell if  the pain in my leg hadn’t rooted me to reality. Thank God for war wounds.  Cam’s warning message blared in my ears like a fog horn: If you see a siren, cover your ears and order her to leave. Don’t let her talk to you, and for heaven’s sake, don’t let her sing to you.
    This woman had to be a siren. I held up a hand as she was about to sit beside me. “Stand back!” I commanded, though the growing ache in my groin begged me to surrender to her. “Who are you?”
    She broke into a wide, seductive smile. “Ligeia, but my