Rhyn's impotent frustration subsided some when they returned the human. He didn't know if Sasha would recognize her for what she was, or if only the immortal meant to mate with her would see.

  She came back in the same shape as when she arrived: bloodied beyond recognition. He was surprised she came back at all--Sasha had no mercy and rarely left his victims alive.

  Unless he wanted her for something else. What would Sasha want with her? What was her gift?

  He slapped the wall of his cell, cursing Death again for not freeing him. He couldn't protect anyone from Sasha in Hell, and he itched to taste the woman meant to be his mate.

  The robed man dropped her body on the bed, sealed the cage, and turned to Rhyn.

  "Your master will see you now," he said.

  Rhyn growled at the robed man, who hurried away. Sasha's servants wouldn't get within a foot of Rhyn; instead, they shaped the magic of Sasha's realm around him and gave him only one direction to go, that which Sasha wanted.

  "Ooh, come out as something different!" Jared exclaimed.

  He'd amused them and himself by emerging each time in some other shape. Today, however, he was more interested in seeing Sasha and hearing about the human than amusing the zoo creatures. He waited for the barrier before him to lift and then strode out.

  "A half-breed! Worst one yet!" Jared exclaimed, hanging his hands through the bars in his cell.

  "Fuck off, demon," Rhyn growled.

  He made his way through the castle with the black stones as he had many times during his long stay. The twin moons of the outer banks of Hell were bright. It was always dark here, and the moons rose and set each day instead of a sun. The fresh air was welcome after the musty scents of prison. He found some of his wired energy dissipating at the long walk and change of scenery despite knowing nothing good had ever come from a meeting with Sasha.

  Sasha was waiting for him in his study, sitting beside a fireplace that burned with black flames. Blood had dripped down his face to speckle his shirt. His silver-blue eyes glowed with no warmth as he smiled.

  "Time for our periodic chat, little brother," he said, and motioned to the other chair before the hearth.

  Rhyn refused it and threw himself onto the comfy couch farther away from Hell's flames.

  "How are all my pets?" Sasha asked.

  "You know how they are, fuckhead."

  "Another month and you're still defiant."

  Normally, it was as far as they got before Sasha flew off the handle, had him tortured, and threw him back into his cell. Rhyn waited for it, determined to put up the same fight he always did.

  It didn't come. Sasha was calm. In fact, Sasha was happy!

  Rhyn sat up, eyeing his brother warily. Sasha sipped blood from a goblet, content.

  "I've decided to take a mate," Sasha said.

  Rhyn laughed, thoughts flying to the spunky human in the zoo. Sasha glared at him.

  "You, brother, will take a mate?" Rhyn goaded. "It's the human you threw in the cell across from me, isn't it?"

  "She's beautiful and she's an immortal's mate."

  "Beautiful? No. Not ugly, yeah. Our family has no luck with immortal mates. Traitorous bitches, all of them."

  "Sounds like brotherly concern," Sasha mocked. "You know, if you hadn't joined our family, I wouldn't be here, and Father would still be alive. You think I want to be in Hell at the side of the Dark One?" Sasha flung his arm around.

  Rhyn rolled his eyes and got up, grabbing an orange off the fruit basket on Sasha's desk. Sasha's moods were varied and fickle, never lasting too long. Of all the brothers, he'd always been the one to begrudge Andre's role as their leader.

  "As long as I keep her out of your reach, so you don't kill this one, too," Sasha added.

  "If she's yours, I'll kill her faster." Even as Rhyn spoke, he was disturbed by the thought of the frazzled but sweet woman across the hall from him falling to his brother. She was a smartass worthy of any of his brothers, and yet, no human deserved this.

  Especially not the immortal mate meant for him.

  His gaze took in Sasha before sliding to the black flames. He'd forgotten what color real fire was, but he found himself thinking it was orange, like the fruit in the basket on Sasha's desk. Sasha was staring into the fire, pensive.

  "She's different," Sasha muttered. "Easy to break. Still human."

  "What's her gift?"

  "Fuck off, Rhyn. Who would you rather see her with, Kris or me? Kris must be livid I've stolen her from him."

  "She's better off dead," Rhyn replied.

  He wanted to keep Sasha talking, to find out what it was about this woman that was so special that both Sasha and Kris wanted her. And to spend more time outside his cell. He'd long since stopped trying to escape, knowing the magic of Hell and the Dark One was too old for him to break. He'd still rather be humoring Sasha and eating his oranges than sitting in the damned cell!

  "You don't seem too thrilled yourself," he added.

  "The timing is bad," Sasha said with a glance. "I may need something of you soon."

  "You know I'll refuse."

  "We'll see," was the growled response. "I do have news for you."

  "I don't give two--" Rhyn started.

  "Andre is dead-dead."

  Rhyn fell silent. The only brother who'd accepted him and treated him half decently was gone?

  "Thought that might mean something to you," Sasha said, searching his face. "I guess not. Maybe I've succeeded in breaking you after all."

  "Never, fuckhead."

  "Without your protector, you'll never be welcomed at the Council."

  "I never was," Rhyn growled. "One of you was always trying to kill me."

  "And now you've got no one to protect you. You've got nothing, Rhyn, but a place by my side. Think about it."

  "Done. No," Rhyn said without hesitation.

  "Get the fuck back to your cell."

  Sasha left, pissed this time. Rhyn watched him, even more curious after the odd interaction. Sasha had told him many things before to try to break him, but this time, he sensed the truth behind the words.

  Andre was gone. He felt heaviness sink to the pit of his stomach, and regret trickled through him.

  Of all the brothers, Andre had been the only who believed in him. The eldest and wisest had found him when he was a child, wandering the immortal world, alone. Andre had raised him as much as anyone, sponsored his petition to be recognized by the immortals, cleaned up all the messes he'd never meant to make.

  Regret turned to sorrow, and Rhyn gazed around him. Whatever killed Andre would never have succeeded if he weren’t trapped here!

  He snatched two more oranges before the magic constrained his movement. He took his time going back to the cell block.

  Sasha was not a hard creature to understand. This time, Rhyn couldn't figure out why the creature wanted a human so badly he'd bring her here yet didn't seem eager about her becoming his mate.

  He retreated to his cell and sat against the wall again, troubled by a familiar feeling of helplessness.

  He could've saved Andre. He had the magic, the strength.

  He simply didn't have the control. His brothers didn't hate him just because of his lineage. They hated him because he couldn't focus his magic. It came out when it wanted in what form it wanted.

  They'd always said he was a danger to the human world because of this. In the darkness of his cell, he admitted this was true, but he also knew no one could've saved his brother but him.

  He hated Kris even more. Fury and sadness made him loosen control of his magic. He didn't care that Hell would suck him dry.

  He slammed himself against the cell walls, roaring.