Better off Dead Book Two

by Odette C. Bell

  The concierge beside me suddenly shunted up. He sent a charge of magic slicing into me as he pushed me out of the way. “One of the attackers is here. Help,” he screamed.

  “Asshole,” I muttered as I shoved him in the back and pushed his attack off even as he used a full charge of magic to try to take me down. I quickly jammed my thumb into the electronic panel by the door. “I’m not your enemy. Why would I have saved your life if I was?”

  He turned around and tried to snap his hands forward through the door to stop it from closing, but it was too fast. I caught sight of his eyes and the confusion flickering within.

  I pressed another button, knowing I needed to get off this level as quickly as I could.

  I didn’t relax casually against the back of the elevator as I waited for it to rise. I stood there, pumped my hands in and out, and let my magic rise. I even danced from foot to foot as if I was a boxer getting ready for a match. And I was. By now every single concierge in this place would be spewing through the tunnels to get to Hilliker’s men. And then of course there were the priests themselves.

  The doors opened. In front of me I saw a purple robe. There was a tall man with his back to me. Before my heart could skip several beats and warn me that it was Hilliker himself, the guy turned. He still had eyeballs – which was telling. His face was marked with black and white lines. He reminded me of one of those white-clad priests from the hospital who’d tried to use my compulsion charm.

  At first, the guy clearly thought I was nothing more than a patron, but then his gaze quickly flashed down to my hands. I hadn’t been careful – one was open and turned toward him. My resurrection mark was there for everyone to see.

  “How—” he began in a throaty stutter.

  “Time to knock you the hell out,” I spat. I shunted forward as fast as my little feet could carry me. I let magic spin around me, forcing me into him as if I was a projectile. I raised my elbow and jammed it into his sternum as I let sparks dance down his flesh. I didn’t leave it at that. Spinning around beside him, I shoved back into him, locked a foot on the wall for purchase, then knocked him clean over. I rolled over his form, slapped my hands either side of his face, did a handstand, then crouched down beside him. All the while, I let lethal charges of magic spill around me.

  He went to grab something in his pocket, but I wouldn’t let him. I smashed my fists into his collar bone. It was a nasty move, and there was an immediate crunch. I broke his bones, but I sure as hell didn’t dent his spirit yet.

  With a snarl, he spread his hands. That’s when I saw that there were marks on them. They glowed – or at least I thought they glowed. They had this energy within them, but there was no light – just its exact opposite. It seemed as if they were possessed with the power to absorb illumination like some kind of black hole. They had this unmistakable dense energy, too. Just being close to them made it feel as if they were sucking my soul out of my frigging body.

  He didn’t even have to reach up and clutch his hands around my throat for me to feel as if he was trying to throttle me. I jolted back even as I planned to end this with a vicious punch across his jaw.

  He growled, rolled to the side, and shoved up. Dancing forward with light feet and lithe moves that were at odds with his big, bulky form, he spread his fingers up. It looked as if he was combing them through the air – like he was trying to find some unusual particle or other substance. With a satisfied smile that blasted across his lips, he discovered whatever he was after. Then he opened his hands wide.

  I was suddenly blasted back. Though I tried to hold on to my magic and protect myself, I couldn’t. I was lifted into the air. My hands were suddenly locked together, and they jerked above my head. It felt as if I was being chained up by nothing more than the man’s mind.

  That became a distinct possibility as his eyes glowed this devilish black-red. He twisted his fingers about again, the movements jerky and uncoordinated. They looked like he was in spasm. But he clearly knew what he was doing.

  My disguise fell off me. I lost the long blonde hair and the equally long jacket. I was back in the clothes I’d worn to Purgatory.

  “Sacrifice,” the guy said. Clearly that was my name now.

  “Bastard,” I spat back.

  The priest suddenly launched forward, but rather than attack me directly, he locked his hands on his knees, arched his head back, and screamed.

  I had to jerk my head to the side, my ears feeling as if they would pop.

  The scream wasn’t just loud – it appeared to have the capacity to travel right through matter. As it shook through the room, I knew for certain that it pushed right down through the tunnel system. Hell, I wondered if it managed to shift further – as if one single shout from his black-vein-laced lips could reach around the world.

  ... He was calling Hilliker, wasn’t he?

  I was screwed.

  I tried to fight, but there was no way I could break myself free from this spell. I couldn’t get a handle on it. Every time I thought I understood what kind of magic he was using, it shifted.

  I couldn’t detect strands around my wrists – nor invisible chains. It was as if he had somehow made the air decide to trap me.

  To break through someone’s spell, you had to locate it first. Even if it was invisible to the eye, it shouldn’t be invisible to other forms of magical detection. But that was just the thing. No matter what I tried, I could not detect the location nor make up of his spell.

  The priest locked his hands on his knees and screamed once more. The elevator behind me suddenly closed. He would be calling more priests through the tunnels toward him.

  “Why are you even here, bastard? What is Hilliker after?”

  He smiled. “The compulsion charm still works on you. We had our fears.”

  I snorted, getting ready to tell him that I’d come here to find something on my own – but I knew that was suicide. Why share information with these monsters?

  I could feel the elevator rumbling up through the shaft behind me. In a few seconds, we’d have company – and company meant it was even less likely that I’d be able to escape.

  “How did you flee Purgatory?” the priest demanded.

  I snorted. “As if I’m going to tell you.”

  He twisted his fingers to the side. It was almost a graceful move. He caught hold of my tongue, and it suddenly jolted out of my lips. It felt as if someone had turned it into a lasso. It whipped around my mouth as he clearly fought to gain fine control of it. A few seconds later, he did.

  “I figured out a way to transport from Purgatory,” I found myself saying. As soon as the words were out, my eyes opened wide in total, gut-wrenching fear. I’d just volunteered that information with no ability to stop myself.

  The guy smiled, clear satisfaction marking his lips and drawing them wider. While his eyes were not the voids that now adorned Hilliker’s face, all of his veins were filled with black. They wriggled occasionally, bulging as if there were momentary blockages in his circulatory system. Now the tiny little capillaries that fed his lips became so fat, it looked as if they would pop. “What power did you draw on to get out of Purgatory?”

  I was still wearing my cross – but it was tucked firmly underneath my top. I really needed some time to figure out what it was. It was clearly important – Sonos had told me as much. But how and where did it come from? Had I come across it by chance? Or had it been waiting for me?

  When I didn’t volunteer the information, he reached forward again. He twisted his hands and regained control of my tongue.

  There was a beep behind me, and the elevator doors opened. Three priests walked around me. They were in white and black robes. They looked like the guys I’d fought back at the hospital. While I’d had the ability to fight them and win then, there was nothing I would be able to do if I couldn’t get down from here.

  They took up a defensive position behind that other priest.

  “Tell me, sacrifice, how did you get out of Purgatory? What p
ower did you draw on?” the primary guy spat.

  “I prayed on the cross,” I said, my words hardly slurring together or sounding as if they were produced by a controlled tongue.

  He frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “I prayed on the cross,” I repeated. Though I couldn’t completely control what I was saying, and it seemed I had to reveal some form of the truth, I had the ability to decide how it was phrased.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I prayed on the cross,” I repeated. It was true. I just left several all-important facts out.

  “God cannot hear you in Purgatory,” that priest growled. “How did you get out? Did you finally call on the power of the Deep?” Even as he asked that, I saw his eyes widen and fix on me with total glee.

  Sonos had told me that I was a child of the Deep. I’d assumed that just meant I was a creation of Hell. Now I wasn’t so certain. As that guy mentioned the word, the three priests behind him looked even more alive. They’d hardly seemed like automatons previously, but now their faces lit up as if they were about to encounter the reward of the century.

  I understood why Hilliker was doing this. As Sonos had already said, he was after power by any means. Presumably his priests had been offered some reward, too. At their reaction to the simple word the Deep, I realized it would be the source of their reward.

  I shuddered. I should’ve taken some solace at that move – that it was possible despite the fact I was completely restrained and controlled.

  “Have you accessed the power of the Deep?” the guy half screamed in a shrill voice that shook around the room.

  “I prayed on the cross,” I forced myself to repeat despite the fact I could feel his compulsion magic spreading through my mind, trying to eke out the truth from me. Sorry, eke was the wrong word – it was trying to beat it, squeeze it, and dig it out as violently as it could. If my brain were a horse, he would’ve whipped it half to death.

  “Wait until Hilliker arrives,” one of the other priests said. “He will be able to take the truth from her.”

  I closed my eyes. How could I be back here again? Only a few hours ago, I’d escaped that bastard, but now I was back, back in this god-awful hell.

  And worse?

  This time I had no one to rely on. If they were so sure that Hilliker would be back, that meant one thing – Sonos had failed.

  I’d been waiting for him to be killed my entire life.

  Now... he was gone, and I would be alone forevermore.

  Chapter 13

  I had no clue how long it would take for Hilliker to come, but I could guess, considering how much he wanted to capture me, that it would not be long.

  I just had to wait – and it was interminable torture.

  The priests continued to hold me there. While the major guy kept his hands spread out, his knuckles contracted, the three behind him obviously offered supportive spells. Occasionally they would incant whenever I looked as if I could move too much.

  The one thing I could hope for was help from the vault system. Maybe the concierges would come. Perhaps the other security precautions in here would detect the priests and do something – buying me a chance. It never happened, of course. I was on my own – now more than ever.

  Though my thoughts should have been centering on trying to get out of here and finding a vulnerability in this spell, they kept pulling themselves back to Sonos.

  Was there a chance he was still alive? If he’d taken Hilliker down to Hell, then there would’ve been other generals and forces there to help Sonos... right?

  Wrong. What if nothing made sense anymore because I fundamentally had no idea what I was up against?

  Hilliker had the power to make a node in Purgatory, for God’s sake. He’d been shadowing me my entire life. He’d bought up every frigging Santini charm on the planet – all to get to me. There was clearly nothing he would not do.

  So Sonos.... He was as good as dead.

  As that thought settled through me, it brought this cold wave of dread. It almost tugged me back into one of my past memories. I thought I saw myself standing under that oak tree. A bunch of recollections grouped together. I was a child and yet I was a teenager and yet I was everything in between. As I stood there, staring at the children who had rejected me, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I thought I could almost see who that hand belonged to. Sonos.

  ... He had not been with me my entire life. I would refuse to believe that. But....

  There was a jolt that traveled through the tunnel system. I opened my eyes wide.

  My fear told me it was Hilliker, but it had to be something else, for the three priests who were offering backup suddenly lurched as fear crossed over their faces.

  “What was that?” the head priest growled.

  Before the others could answer, another jolt traveled through the floor. It was bad enough that the three priests lost formation and fell on their knees.

  “Get up right now,” the head priest screamed.

  The way he did it suggested he was under imminent threat of attack.

  I’d given up trying to fight when it had become apparent that there was nothing I could do to break through their defenses – but his fear told me there was still a chance. I wriggled on the spot, trying desperately to yank my wrists free of the air.

  The head priest growled, jerked back, took up a defensive stance, and opened his hands wide. Magic and energy built between his fingers. It covered his teeth as he sneered at me.

  The other three priests managed to stand, but they still wobbled badly. More and more powerful, violent shudders were passing through the floor. Chunks of the ceiling started to fall down, scattering all around the priests. One of them was even struck on his brow. It cut him from the top of his head down to the side of his chin. While at first his blood was red, as it continued to trickle out, it became this dense crackling black that looked like electricity-infused crude oil.

  “Get up,” the head priest now screamed with all his worth.

  The other priests scrambled, but there was nothing they could do. The floor was now buckling as if it was a sheet someone was drying in a gale.

  I forced myself to fight as hard as I damn well could. I concentrated so much, tears trailed down my face. They practically bled from me as I yanked my arms once more.

  Though it didn’t feel as if I was getting anywhere, I had to be, because the head priest suddenly fell down to one knee and had to shove a hand hard onto the concrete for support. As more energy built up around him, he was pushed back. I gave it one last go. I fought with everything I damn well had, and all of a sudden, with no warning, whatever was holding me in place snapped. I fell. I wasn’t prepared for it. As I smashed down, I didn’t roll or otherwise absorb the move, and I landed hard on my ankle. Fortunately it didn’t break. Even if it had, I would’ve forced through, anyway. My sweaty hair fanned in front of my face briefly. I stared up at the priests darkly from underneath it. Then I jolted forward.

  I would’ve looked like a strike of damn lightning as I moved like the wind, magic pulsing off me in every direction.

  That head priest got to his feet fastest, but he couldn’t stay there – another jolt traveled through the tunnel – this one far more violent than any that had come before. I was ready for it – as if I was so attuned to this tunnel system that I understood when it would convulse before it did.

  I leaped into the air, flipping right over his head. I landed behind him. It was time to finish the move I’d started when our fight had first begun. I backed off into him, elbowing him hard in the ribs. There was the distinct and pleasant sound of something cracking. He screamed and jolted to the side. I followed him around as I thrust an arm to the side, collected his middle, then threw him down hard. It was just as the floor convulsed again. I flipped once more, landing just behind him. Then I jolted down. I let all the magic I had – and then some – spill into my fists. As it danced over my knuckles, as bright as supernovae, I smashed them down into his j
aw. Though he tried to grab my hand and hold it back, there was nothing he could do. For whatever reason, he appeared far more undermined by what was happening to these tunnels than I was. As my fists sunk in, his damn jaw broke.

  It wouldn’t kill him, but he would be out for the count.

  Those other three priests were desperately trying to scramble to their feet, but they weren’t quick enough. Another major shudder traveled through the tunnels. This one came with something a little extra. A scream, to be precise. It was low, it was guttural, and it could not possibly have come from the throat of a man.

  It hit the kind of pitch and shaking power that told me it belonged to the throat of a monster instead.

  Before I could freak the hell out and wonder if Hilliker had brought some damned creature with him, I reminded myself of where I was. As I’d already mentioned, this tunnel system had its own freaking minotaur. I concluded that was what I was hearing long before I heard the sound of pounding, monstrous footfall.

  Though I should’ve hardly been happy to hear or see it, the priests looked terrified. Far from trying to fight me, they turned to face the minotaur, their hands shaking as they held them high.

  The minotaur didn’t come racing around a corner. Instead, he barreled right out of void space. He appeared in front of one of the priests, his massive, 20-foot form hardly fitting into the corridor. The corridor, of course, simply altered itself to accommodate him. As the ceiling grew right above us, the closest priest screamed for his life. It was too late. The minotaur jerked down, opened his mouth, screamed with the kind of force that could break a mountain in half, then jolted forward and snapped one of its massive, beefy arms to the side and smashed it into the priest’s back. The guy crumpled, the sound of cracking bone filling the air.

  The other priests desperately tried to fight, too, but they were not quick enough.