Lucivar screamed, but the scream of pain changed to an Eyrien war cry. Chains snapped as he exploded away from the post, charging right at Daemon. When he had covered half the distance, a hard psychic blow knocked him off his feet, sent him rolling back toward the post. He surged to his feet, rushed at Daemon again—and was struck down again. And again. And again.

When he couldn’t get to his feet, he crawled toward Daemon, his teeth bared, his eyes filled with hate.

Sadi reached down, grabbed Daemonar’s arm, and twisted it off the way another man would twist off a drumstick.

That got Lucivar to his feet. When he charged this time, he slammed into a Black shield and went to his knees.

Daemon just watched him and smiled.

He tried to break through the shield, tried to smash his way through it, claw his way through it, battered himself against it—and finally just braced himself against it, crying.

“Daemon,” he pleaded. “Daemon…show a little mercy.”

“You want mercy?” Daemon replied gently. With predatory speed, he stepped on Daemonar’s head.

The skull smashed like an eggshell.

Daemon walked over to Marian, who was still whispering, still trying to crawl. Even over Lucivar’s anguished howls, the rest of them could hear the bones snap when Daemon stepped on her neck.

Using Daemonar’s arm as a pointer, Sadi gestured elegantly at the two bodies, all the while watching Lucivar and smiling. “They’re both still strong enough to make the transition to demon-dead,” he said pleasantly. “It’s doubtful the brat is going to remember much of anything, but your wife’s last thoughts of you…How kindly will she remember you, Prick, knowing you were the cause of this?”

“Finish it,” Lucivar begged. “Let them go.”

“Everything has a price, Prick. Pay the price, and I’ll let them go.”

“What do you want from me,” Lucivar said in a broken voice. “Just tell me what you want from me.”

Daemon’s smile turned colder, meaner. “Prove you can be a good boy. Crawl back to the post.”

Lucivar crawled.

Two of the guards who had been standing beyond the lighted area, watching, approached Lucivar and helped him to his feet while two others replaced the broken chains.

They were very gentle with him when they secured him to the post.

Lucivar looked at Daemon with grief-dulled eyes. “Satisfied?”

“Yes,” Daemon said too softly. “I’m satisfied.”

Surreal felt a flick of dark power, then another. She reached out to Marian, almost terrified that her psychic touch would get an answer. But there was nothing, no one, left.

That was when she finally realized she was crying, had been crying.

Dropping Daemonar’s arm, Sadi used a handkerchief to meticulously wipe the grease from his hand. Then, walking over to Surreal, he used the same handkerchief to wipe the tears from her face.

She almost puked on him.