Everyone lined up behind me, clutching their makeshift weapons. I realized I’d left the toilet lid behind. Didn’t matter that it left me without any sort of weapon. I didn’t think I could use that toilet lid again, didn’t think I could swing it into someone’s face even if I was fighting for my life. As it was I’d forever see the spray of red, the crushed bones of her beautiful face. I could have saved her. She could have saved me.

We padded barefoot through the warehouse. The cold of the cement floor seemed to crawl right up the bones of my legs as I moved. It was a huge, open space, the offices to my left, the bay doors straight ahead. I glanced around looking for a smaller exit off to the side—one that wouldn’t set off a fire alarm. A light was on in one of the offices with a window—Pockmarks enjoying some private time, I assumed. I couldn’t see him through the window, which hopefully meant he couldn’t see me.

We made it to the bay doors without incident. I looked in vain for some less noisy way out, then grimaced as I punched the button with the up arrow in white on a green background.

The sound was deafening. It was like a dozen bulldozers roared into the warehouse. Sound echoed off the walls. The office door with the light flung open, and Pockmarks ran out with a shout, brandishing his broom handle. He slapped a switch on the wall and the lights went out, plunging us into darkness. Worse, the bay door froze about eight inches off the ground. The girls screamed.

“Go. Go.” I pushed Kitten and Lacy toward the door. They were the smallest. If both of them could get out while I tried to hold the guard off, they could go get help.

The two girls tried to wedge themselves under the door, but couldn’t manage to get through the space. Tasha and Mess grabbed the door, trying to lift it by hand while Sugar and Pistol searched the walls for a manual override. Pillow and Baa turned their backs to the bay door, brandishing their sharpened cot springs. Pockmarks was almost upon us, cranking the broomstick back to swing once he was within range. Pillow and Baa didn’t stand a chance. None of them stood a chance. So I took a few steps forward, putting myself between them and the guard.

The stick hit me on the upper arm, just below my shoulder. I braced for it, but Pockmarks was a big guy and the impact knocked me to the side. I managed to turn with the blow, swinging my right arm around to grab the stick and move with the momentum. With the broom handle tucked under my arm, Pockmarks wasn’t able to land another blow. He yanked and cursed, trying to get his weapon free, while I shouted for the girls to get the door open. We were trapped here, and although I had our one opponent engaged, I feared I wouldn’t be able to hold him for long.

Baa darted past the two of us vanishing into the darkness of the warehouse. I knew what she was doing. This guard was going to get the best of me, but if I could hold him off, keep his attention on me for just a few seconds more, Baa could hit the power switch.

We just needed the bay door to lift a few more inches, and the girls could slide under to freedom. I struggled with Pockmarks, trying to wrest the broom handle from him. If I could just get his weapon, I’d turn it on him with all the force I’d used to brain the demon. And I wouldn’t have any regret at all about killing him.

A few pulls back and forth and it was clear that I was losing the tug-of-war with the guard. “Hurry,” I shouted to Baa, wishing I knew the word in Spanish. Pillow jumped forward to help me, stabbing Pockmarks with her sharpened wire. It didn’t do more than puncture the skin, but the man yelped. He twisted, still keeping one hand firmly on the broom handle while he punched Pillow in the face with the other. Her head rocked backward, blood flying from her nose. Then he yanked and the pole slid from under my arm. I grabbed at it with my hands, but he was too quick, swinging it out of my reach, then bringing it in a broad sweep down to hit Pillow across the chest. She gasped, doubled over, and I sprang forward, taking the next hit meant for her against my shoulder.

The lights went on. The bay door roared as it resumed its slow upward process. Just a few seconds. I only needed to hold Pockmarks off for a few seconds. The stick came down again and again. I blocked as many blows as I could with my arm, but a solid blow impacted my head and I staggered. It was enough for Pockmarks to lunge past me, grabbing Lacy by her long hair and kicking Kitten away from the door. The other girls jumped him, stabbing him with wires and jagged bits of plastic while he kicked out and swung with the pole, keeping a tight hold on Lacy’s hair the whole time. Kitten crawled toward the bay door, but a well-placed kick had her rolling on the ground clutching her stomach.

Baa screamed, and I looked over to see that Catcalls had recovered from Mess’s blow and had grabbed her, slamming her face-first into the wall. She crumpled to the ground and the guard reached forward to hit the button once more. The sudden darkness blinded me and I felt two more blows of the pole that drove me to my knees. I heard the cries of the other girls, the frustrated shriek as Lacy and Kitten were pulled away from under the bay door.

“Get under the door,” I shouted. “Somebody, anybody get under the door.” There were nine of us and only two guards. If just one of us could get out and run for it, if just one of us could make it out, we’d all be saved. I crawled forward, realizing the Catcalls had joined the party from the noise of more than one stick hitting human flesh. I reached forward, feeling the edge of the bay door. I didn’t want to leave the girls behind, but one of us had to get free and go for help.

A foot smashed down on my hand, then kicked me so hard I was launched backward several feet. The lights came on, and I saw that the two guards had managed to bunch us together and knock us back away from the bay door. Pockmarks was standing over us, breathing heavy and bleeding from cuts, scratches and small puncture wounds. Catcalls jogged back from where the switch was to join him, landing a few hard kicks to Pistol’s back when he arrived.

We were lying on the ground, most of us curled into a fetal position. I heard crying, a soft moan, a sob. Rolling over I tried to rise to my knees, quickly counting.

Nine. No one had made it. Not even one of us had managed to get out, and now we were all battered and bleeding. I was pretty sure a few of us had broken bones and concussions. Come morning we’d be covered in bruises. And there was no demon to fix us. It was a strange sort of satisfaction to realize that we wouldn’t be perfect for their sale, that the buyers would show up to find us severely beaten and, no doubt, worthless. So much for all the money they thought they were going to make. I hoped their boss was pissed at them. I hoped he killed them.

He’d probably kill us too.

“Get up.” The end of a pole jabbed me in the lower back. “Get up now and walk, or we’ll drag you.”

I staggered to my feet, helping the others rise. Then using the poles, both men managed to gather us together and herd us back into our room. Pistol could barely walk, gasping with every step, blood streaking her newly blonde hair. I half-carried Kitten as we shuffled forward, easing her down on the nearest cot. Pillow sat beside her, still clutching her waist, her face gray as she took small shallow breaths.

We’d lost. And with the condition we were in, it was unlikely we’d be able to attempt it again.

“Where the fuck is the demon?” Pockmarks roared. I flinched, but kept silent. They wouldn’t kill us, would they? They wouldn’t risk the wrath of their boss and the loss of their cut of the profits for the satisfaction of beating us to death, would they?

But we wouldn’t be worth anything battered. Maybe they would kill us. Or maybe they’d just kill one of us to vent their rage and set an example. I remembered that they had an “extra” and caught my breath. An extra. If they found out I’d killed the demon, that extra would be me. And this time I was pretty sure there would be no guardian angel to save me.

The broomstick swung, this time hitting Tasha hard enough that it made a splintering noise. “Where is that damned demon?”

A door opened and everyone froze, even the guards.

“Stop yelling, you idiot. I’m right here. And I’d like to know who hit me with a toilet.” A feminine voice demanded. “This was one of my favorite shirts, and it is ruined. And I’m going to have to re-do all of my makeup.”

Fear spiked through me. I turned slowly, expecting to see a zombie, a dead woman with half her head smashed in. Instead I saw the demon woman, wiping blood from her still-gorgeous, perfect face with the corner of a wet towel. Kitten bit back a scream and scooted behind me. Baa crossed herself and whispered what were surely prayers in Spanish.

“Who. Hit. Me.” The repeated words were less a question and more a demand. Her eyes searched the room and landed on Mess.

No. I couldn’t let anyone else take the blame for this. If someone was going to die for attacking her, it would be me.

“I hit you.” I stood and stepped forward, putting out a hand to silence Kitten’s soft “no.”

I was oddly relieved that I hadn’t killed her. It was a mixed blessing. She could now fix our injuries, although that process would most likely be just as painful as the injuries themselves. Healed, we could try to escape again.

But healed, we’d be sold at an auction in two days. And we were back to having three barriers to our escape—one of them a demon who bounced back unhurt from a crushed skull. If a heavy toilet tank lid across the face didn’t keep her down for more than a few minutes, I wasn’t sure what would.

I only hoped that I’d survive whatever she had in store for me.

Pockmarks laughed. “Some kind of demon you are, taken down by a little slip of girl. Wait until the boss hears this one.”

The air suddenly felt charged. The demon woman looked over at Catcalls with a raised eyebrow. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it won’t,” he agreed. “You go ahead and punish her, then fix all of their injuries. No more food for them. I’d chain them to the cots, but I don’t want to have to clean up their shit and pee. Next time you girls try something like this, one of you is going to die. Understood?”

No one responded.

“Maybe I’ll go ahead and kill one of you anyway. Or better yet, beat you just to the edge of death, then have this demon woman bring you back. And do it over and over again all night long. I want you quiet and obedient. If we say line up, you line up. If we say bend over so we can screw you in the ass, you bend over and say ‘thank you’ and ‘please.’ Understood?”?” Pockmarks slapped his palm with the broom handle for emphasis.

This time we all whispered a chorus of frightened yeses.

Catcalls reached up to touch the side of his head. “I want the one who did this. If the demon gets some revenge, I get some too.”

“Later,” Pockmarks told him. “Tonight you can have your pick. Let the demon woman fix them up first.”

The two guards left, locking the door behind them. The demon woman tossed the bloodied towel on a cot and stalked toward me. There was murder in her eyes, and I scampered to put one of the other cots between us, thinking that I’d rather be raped and beaten to death by one of the guards than let this woman get her hands on me.

“Come here,” she hissed.

“Why aren’t you dead?” My voice sounded tiny and far away. “I saw you. I saw what I did to you. Why aren’t you dead?”

She stood on the other side of the cot across from me. “Because I’m a demon, you little fool. I was going to let you keep your hair that ridiculous color, but now I’m not. I’m going to fix it myself. Then maybe I’ll do a few other things to you just to teach you a lesson. Now come here.”

I tensed, ready to dart the opposite way whenever she made a move. Yes, I was just delaying the inevitable. There was nowhere I could go to hide, and I couldn’t escape this room. She’d eventually catch me, but I was too scared to go easy and suffer whatever she had in mind for me. I remembered the screams of the other girls, the agony on Pistol’s face when the demon had subjected her to those cosmetic enhancements. I really, really didn’t want her doing that to me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mess creep forward, toilet lid in hand. The demon woman must have seen her too, because she flung out a hand and grabbed the other woman’s wrist. Mess cried out, and the toilet lid fell, breaking in half as it hit the ground with a huge crash. That wasn’t the only thing that broke. Mess’s hand dangled at an odd angle, and she dropped to the floor with a scream as the woman shoved her. When the demon turned toward me I saw her eyes completely black with no pupil or white at all. Gold scales sprang from her skin and a narrow forked tongue licked her lower lip. Perfectly manicured nails thickened and lengthened into claws.

I felt the sharp bite of adrenaline spiking through my fear. I needed to get out of here. We all needed to get out of here. Suddenly the danger wasn’t the men with their sticks or the threat of being sold into sexual slavery, it was this monster that snapped wrists with a gentle twist of her fingers, that healed from what should have been a fatal head wound in seconds. That looked anything but human right now.

“Come here.” This time the hiss sounded truly reptilian.

I started to shake, knowing what was coming. Still, I couldn’t make my feet move. I couldn’t make myself walk willingly to slaughter.

“Come here.” Her eyes locked with mine and I felt my muscles screaming to move. She tilted her head, regarding me curiously like a snake about to devour a mouse. “Interesting. You are resistant to compulsion. Let’s try this instead. Come. Here.”

The pull on my muscles vanished and I stumbled from the release. The room felt heavy and thick with something blue and sweet. Every nerve inside me came alive and I felt a sweet seductive beckoning. She was so beautiful. In her arms I would know ecstasy. In her arms I would feel pleasure greater than I ever imagined.

But I wanted more than pleasure. Even though my body melted at the thought, my mind rebelled, knowing that the love she offered me was a hollow, empty thing. The other women stared at her, transfixed, but she only had eyes for me. I felt the warmth, the seduction increase and my knees wobbled. One of the other women whimpered.

Then with a frustrated hiss, the heaviness was gone. I sucked in a breath, disoriented from the change and unable to move quick enough as she jumped across the cot to grab me. She twisted one of my arms behind my back, wrapping my hair around her other fist. Then she shoved me ahead of her toward the bathroom. I heard Kitten crying softly. Now would have been the time for the others to jump her, but everyone was so injured.

“Don’t.” Mess stood in front of us, her words muffled from the swelling in her face. “I won’t let you hurt her.”

The demon hissed. “Move, foolish girl.”

“I’ll be okay,” I lied. “Guardian angel, remember? I’ll be okay.”

I felt the demon stiffen, her hand twisting my hair tighter. “What did you say?”

“She has a guardian angel.” Mess lifted her chin. “And I hope he explodes you on the inside, like he did the guard that raped her. I hope he leaves you dead on the floor with smoking black holes for eyes.”

There was a moment where the demon didn’t seem to breathe, then she laughed. “Angels don’t do that. They don’t protect humans. They don’t care in the least about you and your friends.”

“Then what happened to the guard?” Mess asked defiantly.

I felt the demon shrug. “One of the other guys probably poisoned him, or something. It wasn’t an angel. No angel is going to save you.”

Mess narrowed her eyes and planted her feet, her chin lifting with a stubborn tilt. “It’s okay,” I told her. “I’ll be okay. Don’t interfere. I don’t want you hurt any more than you already are.”

The girl hesitated. “Come back, okay? We need you. Promise you’ll come back.”

The demon woman muttered something under her breath about stupid idiot humans. I ignored her. “Promise.”

“Move, or you’ll be next,” the demon snapped. Mess hesitated a fraction of a second, then stepped aside. The demon woman kicked open the bathroom door and shoved me forward, closing it behind her. She put her hands on the handle and I heard the grind of metal, the smell of something hot, and I realized that she had locked it in some supernatural fashion—locking me in here with her.

I scrambled to my feet, putting my back against the wall and eyeing her. There was nothing at hand I could possibly use as a weapon, and I knew my strength couldn’t match a demon who broke wrists so easily.

“I’m going to have to fix her wrist once I’m done with you, and all the other injuries as well.” Her voice was calm, but those eyes were anything but reassuring. “I am furious with you. First you assault me—not once but twice. You were obviously the one who organized the escape attempt with those other girls. You’ve caused the men to hurt the merchandise—injuries I’ll need to spend energy repairing. You are a problem, and I find myself wondering how much trouble I would be in if I killed you.” She took a step toward me. “It’s an ideal solution. Kill you and throw your battered body out there. All the other girls would fall in line. It would be so enjoyable, torturing you for hours until your flesh could take no more. And just before you died, I’d take your soul and keep it for my own. What fun I could have with your soul for all of eternity.”

I curled my hands into fists. I might get killed. I might die for this. But I was going to die fighting. My only regret was that I would go back on my promise to Mess. I wouldn’t be here to help the other women. Maybe they’d escape without me. It wasn’t like I was all that special. I wasn’t any kind of hero. I was just a junkie from the streets who couldn’t remember more than shadows of her past. A junkie with weird, bright-red hair that didn’t seem to take any kind of dye.

“I’m not allowed to kill you.” The demon’s voice was tinged with regret. “The terms of my summoning don’t allow me to harm any of the guards or the boss, and I can’t kill the merchandise. I can hurt the merchandise, though. As long as I fix it afterward.” Her long claws combed through my hair, her golden-scaled skin catching on the strands. “And fixing will cause you just as much pain as killing you.”

I swung, punching her as hard as I could in the jaw. She laughed, so I did the same with my other fist, then kicked her in the legs. She stepped in to me, maneuvering her body so I was trapped against the wall. I fought like a wild animal, punching and kicking, grabbing her hair and trying to gouge those frightening eyes out. It was like fighting a piece of clay. Every scratch and bruise healed before my eyes. She just stood there in front of me, amused at every blow I landed until I was spent and shaking.

“Are you done, little red bird?” she asked. Then she slapped me and my head rocked to the side. Warm liquid filled my mouth and dripped from my nose. Everything dimmed with a second blow, and I felt myself start to slide down the wall. She caught me, claws digging into the skin over my ribs as she held me upright. Then her mouth met mine. The kiss was a strange mix of passion and pain…and desperation. With her lips on mine, her tongue licking and tasting, I felt her—knew with complete certainty that she was a trapped animal, desperate and lashing out at everything that entered its tiny cage.

The kiss ended and I saw my blood on her lips as she smiled. Her scaled body pressed against mine, holding me in place as her clawed fingers moved from my waist to grip my hair.

“And now the fun begins,” she whispered with a wicked smile.

Something sharp and hot slid through me, through my hair and into my scalp. I gasped and would have dropped to the floor if she hadn’t been pressing me against the wall. It felt like she was stripping layers from my skin, sanding and slicing her way down to the bone.

“Isn’t this enjoyable?” She nuzzled my neck and chuckled as I panted and tried to keep from screaming. Pain and pleasure merged together. Then the feeling of being sliced abruptly stopped. She hesitated, then I felt her push as if she were trying to shove past a blockage.

Nothing. A harder push. Pain bloomed up in me, searing through my mind, but I got the impression it was her pain, not mine.

Her dark eyes peered into mine and she frowned. “Don’t fight me, pretty red bird. It will only hurt worse.”

I thought hurt was what she wanted. Again there was that sensation of her pushing in through my skin, like she was stabbing me with a thousand tiny knives, sanding the layers from me. The pressure increased until I couldn’t breathe, then something snapped. There was a roaring sound. Pain. A scream that tore through me. Everything went white, and when the world swam into focus I realized I was lying in a heap on the cold tile floor, my bright-red hair covering my eyes. I pushed it away with a shaking hand and saw the demon woman clear across the room from me. Her skin no longer had scales. Her claws were back to beautifully manicured nails. Dark human eyes stared at me. She was breathing hard, as if she’d been running for her life. Something like fear flickered in the back of her eyes and I realized that the scream I’d heard hadn’t come from my lips—it had come from hers.

“What…” Her voice trembled and she swallowed hard. “What are you?