BooksBarbecue
Back Seven Devils
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1.
  4. 2.
  5. 3.
  6. 4.
  7. 5.
  8. 6.
  9. 7.
  10. 8.
  11. 9.
  12. 10.
  13. 11.
  14. 12.
  15. 13.
  16. 14.
  17. 15.
  18. 16.
  19. 17.
  20. 18.
  21. 19.
  22. 20.
  23. 21.
  24. 22.
  25. 23.
  26. 24.
  27. 25.
  28. 26.
  29. 27.
  30. 28.
  31. 29.
  32. 30.
  33. 31.
  34. 32.
  35. 33.
  36. 34.
  37. 35.
  38. 36.
  39. 37.
  40. 38.
  41. 39.
  42. 40.
  43. 41.
  44. 42.
  45. 43.
  46. 44.
  47. 45.
  48. 46.
  49. 47.
  50. 48.
  51. 49.
  52. 50.
  53. 51.
  54. 52.
  55. 53.
  56. 54.
  57. 55.
  58. 56.
  59. 57.
  60. EPILOGUE
  61. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  62. ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Their eyes locked. Rhea had Nyx’s attention, it seemed. And Nyx had Rhea’s in turn.

“Why should anything bother me?” the male soldier asked. He was as merry as Nyx was somber. “Come on, Nyx. We’re celebrating.”

He reached over Rhea’s body, the side of his hand grazing her nipple. Rhea blinked, slowly, desperately picturing that ship taking her into the stars. Far away from there.

The soldier took another delicacy from her flesh.

“For you,” the soldier said to Nyx, with an elaborate bow. “For saving my ass out there on the battlefield.”

“No, thanks,” she said. “I’m good.”

“Come on. Look, it’s still warm from her skin.”

Rhea counted the crystals above her.

“I said no.” Nyx’s voice was sharp, dimming the laughter around her. Silence grew longer.

“Suit yourself,” he said, and popped the food into his mouth.

Nyx didn’t stay long, but for the rest of her time there, she made sure Rhea could meet her eye, if she so chose. And she didn’t eat one morsel of food.

Once Nyx left, Rhea went back to dreaming of escape.

But she started to realize that maybe, with the right kind of help, it might not be so impossible.

21.

RHEA

Present day

The party was nothing like the celebrations Rhea had attended on Tholos. There were no champagne fountains, no golden plates filled with the best delicacies the galaxy had to offer.

It was only the Zelus canteen—gray walls, the air filled with the fading smell of grease from their meal. No decorations save for a few Tholosian flags Ariadne took great delight in ripping to strips and hanging from the ceiling in tattered bunting. But the view of darkness and pinpoints of stars was just as beautiful as the gray and amethyst mountains on Tholos. Rhea had never traveled through space, never left the capital of the Tholosian empire.

If she left the Pleasure Garden at all, it was usually to Damocles’s bedroom.

Now she traveled for herself and the women who had helped her escape. Even if the tether of the Empire was still drawing them back.

On Tholos, Rhea had worn such finery to those parties. Dresses of gold cloth, her hair heavy with the weight of jewels and gold and silver filigree. She had brushed her eyelids with shimmery blue or bronze, painted her lips carmine, dusted her skin until it shone like white gold. She’d been surrounded by people in the highest echelons of Tholos, and every word, every movement, every blink of her eye had to be practiced and perfect. Parties were nothing more than performance, the prelude to the night where she became the entertainment.

On those nights, she had danced only for others. Never for herself.