Concrete pressed into Denya’s back as she stared up through the distant hole above her, the twinkling of stars giving a false sense of hope. Her bones ached with the cold, her eyelids heavy as sleep settled over them, but she wouldn’t close them. She’d promised Safina.

Instead, she yawned, and lowering her gaze brought her dreadful surroundings back into view—the empty well, where she and five other young succubi had been dumped.

A moldy, earthy stench stung her nostrils, while she trailed her watchful eyes over the sleeping bodies of the other four who lay scattered across the cracked concrete and moss. Three of them were under sixteen. Farah and her twin sister, Felice, had been with the captors the longest, and Denya guessed them to be only a few months younger than she, making her the oldest of the group.

They’d been dragged from one hostel to another in the city, never knowing in what shithole they’d end up next. Her captors were two large males and a woman. The males appeared to be some demon breed she’d not become privy to—a cross between lycan with sharp teeth and hunched backs, and something else, with a sort of carapace covering their pale white skin beneath. The female was undoubtedly succubus. Her fluid movements, attractive features, and dominatrix persona told Denya that she held some command over the males, which happened to be the only time she’d heard the female raise her voice.

Aside from some messed up sleeping arrangements, like the dirty well they’d forced them down, the three of them hadn’t mistreated any of the girls. They were well fed with three relatively healthy meals a day, they’d been given warm clothes and blankets, allowed to shower each day and provided with some mindless form of entertainment to pass the time—mostly books, but Farah had been given a Rubix cube that’d had all the girls scrambling for a shot at it. They’d taken them on long walks through parts of Obsidius Denya had never been before—beautiful countryside and skies that twinkled with golden flecks while the moons gave enough light to watch the slumbering city from wherever they happened to stay for the night. By evening, they were typically exhausted.

What troubled Denya, though, was the thought that someone, or something, was after them, as much as they moved around, and that each night, one of the girls would go missing.

The night Denya had been captured, at least a dozen girls had been piled into the same truck she’d been thrown inside, after she’d watched Zayne disappear into the alterrealm that’d been set inside her apartment.

For every new girl her captors had picked up, one disappeared. Felice and Farah suspected that they’d been sold off, as they’d come to know the one thing each of the girls had in common—they were all virgin succubi.

Odd that the eldest had been held the longest.

Whether sold, or captured, by something else, Denya didn’t know, but she vowed to keep her eyes open. As the youngest of the group, Safina feared that she’d be next. For days, the poor girl hadn’t slept, until she’d finally confessed her worries to her captured friends and Denya offered to keep watch.

She yawned and stroked her hand down the girl’s long cornsilk hair, as Safina lay across her outstretched legs. In the two short weeks since the young girl had been picked up, she’d hardly spoken to the group, except when working on puzzles or playing games. For whatever reason, though, she’d latched on to Denya, and in some ways, it’d become a comfort, as she reminded her of a younger version of Janie.

Gods, she missed her niece, along with her sister and nephew. She hoped Sabelle was happy somewhere, because if anyone deserved it, her big sister, who never hesitated to take on the world for those she loved, totally did. And Gavin seemed like the perfect mate for her—dominant enough to take the reins when she needed it, yet reverent enough for Sabelle to fall madly in love with him. A perfect combination.

No doubt Sabelle would scour the city looking for her. She’d never find her, though. Not in the parts of Obsidius she’d been taken to, with locals who spoke a language Denya had never heard while watching their group like buzzards waiting for the kill. They were demons who’d been isolated from society for too long, kept to themselves in the hills, and Denya didn’t trust them one bit.

No, no one would find her again. Whatever life she’d once had was nothing but a memory now. A dream she’d once had. Strange that her biggest worry at one time had been figuring out how to stay in her apartment and make it to graduation.

She didn’t even know if she’d make it to the end of the week. She and the other succubi girls had obviously been gathered up for something. She just wished she knew what.

The sleepy haze loomed over Denya as she sat listening to the deep breathing of the others, and her eyelids grew heavier by the minute. Rolling her head against her shoulders, she gave a sharp shake that damn near spun her eyeballs out, and triple blinked.

Have to stay awake. An annoying tickle hit the back of her throat, and despite her efforts to keep her mouth clamped, she caved in to the third yawn in minutes. Not the coziest place they’d stayed, particularly as she’d felt the patter of bug legs earlier, but she had to believe her captors had opted for the well to keep them safe from something. Even if the three of them didn’t say much outside of the occasional terse command, Denya had a sense that each of the girls held some value to them, and that whatever had taken the girls in the night made them just as uneasy.

Through the narrowing slit of her eyes, she kept her focus on Safina’s peaceful face as she slept.

A flash of white hit her periphery. Flipping her lids wide open, she scanned the dim space and rubbed her eyes. “Damn, must be seeing things,” she muttered.

A minute passed with nothing. No movement. Her muscles slackened with each minute that followed, her breaths arriving even and calm again. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, and Denya thought how wonderful it would feel to erase the burn by closing them.

A jerk at her arm brought her to the realization that she had closed them, and when she opened her eyes again, she was greeted with a hand slapped over her mouth and two beady black eyes staring into hers. They belonged to one of the female demons she’d seen earlier, on the path toward the abandoned well. The female had been sitting out on her dilapidated front porch, sewing, as she’d watched the girls march down the path with their captors following close behind. At the time, Denya hadn’t bothered to put up a fight or scream for help, because she’d sensed something evil about the woman. Could’ve been the sinister smirk on her lips, or the deformed squint of her eye that’d given her away, but something had kept Denya from acting on her instincts. One hand trapped beneath the painful pressure of the demon’s bent knee, Denya lifted her other hand to shake Safina, her effort cut short by the tight grip at her wrist.

Fear vibrated through her muscles, and she let out a scream against the palm at her mouth to alert the others.

In her periphery, Denya could sense the others shifting. The moment Safina let out a sleepy moan, the weight against Denya’s legs lifted and the barrier at her mouth disappeared, along with the female demon and Safina.

Tears welled in Denya’s eyes, her body stiff and cold. So goddamn cold. She stared down at her legs, where just moments ago, Safina had lay peacefully sleeping.

No screams.

No struggling.

No evidence that she’d ever lain there, at all.

The shouts of the other girls filtered in as a distant echo.

And then it hit Denya. All at once, the realization hit her, and she lifted her gaze to the panicked expressions of the other girls.

One by one, they were being picked off.

“Did you see it, Denya? What happened? Please, tell us!” Felice’s voice didn’t prompt her to acknowledge the girl.

Instead, she lifted her gaze to the stars once more. “Help!” Her voice hardly carried, still choked by shock. “Help!”

Only when the others screamed in unison did the first waves of urgency beat through Denya’s bones. For the first time in weeks, she’d gotten a look at their assailant.

She had to find Safina. She had to get her back.

She’d promised.