...The trainer shoved him towards a red-skinned demon with smoke coming out of his ears.

“Labal. Work with this one. Don’t knock him out yet.”

The demon grinned, a shark smile of sharp teeth, and lashed out with his fists. Idriel had little experience with hand-to-hand combat, but tried to remember his formal training. He shuffled back as the demon attacked again, turning sideways to present less surface to the blows. He leaned back to avoid another punch to the jaw, then turned and hopped back to avoid a lashing boot, the chains around his ankles too heavy. He bent over to catch his breath, when a left hook sent him sprawling in the dirt. He arched his injured back, grunting with pain.

Labal hauled him back to his feet, grinned, and punched him in the stomach. This time Idriel fell to his knees, gasping, unable to get enough air into his bruised chest. He retched. Nothing came out but thick, bitter bile.

Labal grabbed Idriel’s hair and pulled his head back, then kicked him in the ribs. Idriel fell back and raised his hands to protect his face. The demon kicked him again, and the little breath he’d been able to draw left him. Black spots danced in his eyes.

A whistle sounded behind him. The black spots swirled in an eddy that tried to swallow him whole.

“This one. Take him.” Labal grabbed him under the armpits and lifted him to his feet, then propelled him towards someone else.

Idriel fell to all fours, scraping palms and knees. His arms bent, and his elbows hit the gravel so that his head slammed into the back of his hands. His head pounded. Blood ran down his back. Sharp pebbles pierced his skin. The new small pains mingled with the bigger ones in an all-encompassing throb.

“I won’t fight a bound angel.”

The male voice was deep and musical. Idriel raised his eyes to tall leather boots, and higher to black leggings and then a bare muscled chest with the tattoo of a winged horse. Darkness trailed behind him.

A demon.

His new opponent bent over Idriel, a wry smile on his face, and a long braid slipped over his shoulder to smack Idriel in the face.

Eligor. The demon Commander Raziel had praised. The dark, slanted eyes regarding him burned with an inner fire; the face was radiant.

He’s beautiful.

“You can’t untie him,” came a voice from Idriel’s right. “He’s dangerous.”

“Not more fucking dangerous than I,” said Eligor. He drew himself upright. “And it won’t be training at all if he’s bound. I’ll just waste my time. Not fair.”

Not fair for whom? Bitterness stung Idriel’s heart. “You don’t need more training,” he gasped. Please, God, a respite.

Eligor bent down to look at him. A slight frown knit his brows. He grinned. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, piece of shit? You’re not only a goddamn traitor, you’re a coward, too.”

His words made Idriel’s pulse roar in his ears. He struggled to regain his feet, but his vision kept going black.

Eligor grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him in the air, then dropped him on his feet where he wavered. “Here’s the deal, motherfucker. I want you untied so that I can show you what the fuck I think of what you did to your comrades.”

Oh great. Idriel managed to keep his precarious balance as a bunch of keys jingled next to him and the trainer unlocked his cuffs, then the lock on the chains that bound his ankles.

“You’re lucky the Commander thinks so highly of you, Sar Eligor,” said the trainer. “If something happens to you, I bear no responsibility.”

Idriel stepped out of the chains, for a moment glad their weight was gone. A cool handle was pushed into his hand. He gripped it and looked up.

Eligor smirked, his face inches from Idriel’s. From up close, the demon’s eyes were a dark tempest blue that seemed to swirl and dance.