by A C Wilds
“What’s your name?” I ask between bites.
“It’s not important. Now eat before I take the food away,” he says, standing at attention as he watches me intently.
Ignoring him, I continue the conversation. “What’s it like to be a puppet in the general’s army?” I take a big gulp of water, watching his jaw tick.
“It’s a pleasure to serve the general. He is our leader.”
“What about the previous king? Were you in the army then?” He shuffles his stance, hands gripped in fists at his side.
“Yes, but the true king was placed on the throne. He’s the leader of the Bloods, commander of the Lands. His rule is absolute.”
Something in his voice makes me doubt his words. He’s hiding something. “Hmm, he sounds like an awesome guy.”
“That’s enough.” He stalks over to me. Pulling my hand away from my cup, he causes it to spill at my feet. He cuffs me back to the chain before taking the plate from me.
“Did I strike a nerve?” My smirk doesn’t go unnoticed.
He leans down to whisper in my ear. “Watch what you say out loud. There are ears everywhere. Regardless of what we think, the general is in charge.”
He watches me for a bit, his stare boring into mine and telling me all I need to know. There are disgruntled soldiers in this camp—something I can use to my advantage.
The flap of the tent opening has him grabbing the tray from my lap and rushing to leave. Behind him stands Nazareth, his demeanor even more devious than before. I straighten in my chair, chin out, putting on the bravest face I can manage. It’s time to start acting like an assassin again and not this demon/angel/witch tri-bred this realm thinks me to be.
Rahna taught me well. I may be here to bring her down and right the wrongs she has done, but as the only mother I’ve known, I can’t help but think she put me here for a reason. Trained me to be a warrior for this purpose.
“Remove the cuffs. I’d like to say a proper hello.” My voice is clipped, but there’s a smile spread across my face. My courage is back in full force.
His smile matches mine as he moves further into the tent. His huge frame blocked the dimming light from the flap. Plumes of dust fly up with every step matching my heartbeat.
He leans down in my face, the smell of hot breath assaulting my nose. Not close enough for me to head butt him, but close enough so I see his anger.
“If the general didn’t have plans for you, I’d be happy to show you how to behave.”
“Do you always follow the rules? Give His Majesty what he wants?”
He doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he moves over to the table, picking up a blade. It’s curved with a simple leather handle. Dried blood stains the tip. I show him no signs of weakness.
“This one is for carving. It makes a perfect slice from gut to heart. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I’m partial to a throwing knife myself. It’s multi-purpose. You can use it to stab someone, you can fling it at an opponent, and, in a pinch, you could open someone up.” My voice is flippant, but I struggle with the cuffs once again. They seem a bit looser than before.
He strides over to me, blade still in hand. The tip presses into my cheek, causing a well of blood to form and drip down. It hurts, but I don’t flinch.
“Your smart mouth is going to make this more painful than you could ever imagine, and I’ll be here to witness it all.”
His tongue swoops out, and he licks the blood from my cheek, enjoying every moment. Shuddering, he closes his eyes. I move as far away from him as the bindings allow.
“You taste like no other—so much power. I think I’ll take a little more. I don’t think the general will have a problem with me starting without him.”
His fangs descend, longer than I’ve ever seen. This time fear does rise to the surface. If he bites me, the control will be all his.
“Nazareth,” a voice booms out, rocking the tent. The demon quickly stands, head bowed, awaiting whatever comes next.
“My king. I apologize for my indiscretions.” He bows at the waist, a true subject.
“Leave us,” the general commands.
Nazareth rushes out, head still lowered, avoiding any punishment the general would bestow.
My body clenches at the thought of being alone with this demon. His power is overwhelming. I’ve never felt this from Torque. Could he have been masking it somehow?
“What do you want from me?” I ask, watching him move about the room to the table.
“Many things, but first, I want your blood. It calls to me like a song. It’s intoxicating. I don’t know how my brother hasn’t made you his yet. I cannot resist.”
He’s on me so fast I don’t have time to breathe. His fangs sink into my neck, the pain causing me to fall over, but he grips me tight.
Growling noises come from his throat as he lifts me, chair and all, in the air. He hugs me close, so close I can feel his arousal against my leg. I want to vomit.
A wave of pleasure soon replaces pain, and I relax into him. My mind revolts at the idea, but my body gives in. There’s nothing I can do. I have to wait for him to break the hold.
It feels like forever as he takes his fill. My head begins to pound. Dizziness causes me to sway away from him, but it doesn’t seem like he cares. I will die from his greed.
“Your Majesty.” A guard comes into the tent, and his eyes go wide at the scene.
The general takes one last sip before pulling away, but he doesn’t let go of me.
“What?” he yells, blood dripping down his chin.
I can feel the pool of my essence staining my shirt. If he doesn’t stop the bleeding, I’m going to die.
“There has been a… skirmish, on the outskirts of the camp.”
A different growl, one of annoyance, makes him lick out at my wound and stop the bleeding with his healing saliva. I shudder at the tenderness.
He places me on the floor and rushes out without another word, wiping his hand on his sleeve. He’s done for now, but I know he’ll be back.
29
Anima
The torture goes on for days. I get small breaks in the middle, but my blood is always spilled—the deep gashes in my body courtesy of His Majesty. The more time he spends with me, the more he enjoys himself.
I lost hope of the guys coming to save me days ago. My soul is still hanging on for the moment when I can break free.
“Good morning, pet. Did you enjoy last night? There seems to be nothing I can do to make you scream loud enough for my tastes. I say we take this up a notch.”
I swallow down my fear, showing him the only side he will be getting. If I die in this tent, it won’t be cowering in the corner. My head will be high even if my body is in ruins.
“Bring it on. I love nothing more than a challenge.” My mock courage earns me a smack in the face. I spit the blood out of my mouth from a cut on the inside of my cheek and smile up at him.
“Let’s try something creative today before I take that intoxicating blood of yours.”
After he claps his hands, three demons come into the tent, buckets of water clutched in their hands. A stranger stands behind them. He’s dressed in robes too fine to be a soldier’s.
“You’ve brought guests to our party? I’ve been so bored these last couple of days that it’s refreshing to have someone new,” I say.
Both men appraise me like I’m a deranged nut case, but it’s the only defense I have, my sarcasm and defiance.
“We shall see how funny this is when Silas is through with you.” A chair materializes behind the general and he sits, legs crossed, ready for the show.
The demon stretches out his hand, and the water rises from one of the buckets. It takes the shape of an arrow, hovering close to my face. A shiver runs down my spine as I prepare myself for what’s to come.
His face is neutral, unlike the general’s, who is waiting with a smile.
I’m caught off guard as the arrow smacks into my face and down m
y throat. My instant reaction is to cough and gag, trying to eject the water, but it’s no use. It clogs my windpipe, preventing me from breathing.
I thrash in the chair, the cuffs digging into my wrists. My feet stomp on the floor as I turn my head to try to expel the water. The more I try to spit it out, the more flows into me.
Laughter comes from the corner of the tent, and it burns inside to hear his sick joy over my pain.
“Enough,” he says between chuckles. If I ever get out of here, I will kill him with everything I have. No matter the sacrifices I have to make. First Rahna and then the general. Both will be trophies.
The water demon pulls back the liquid, every last bit withdrawing from my lungs. As air rushes in, I begin to choke, my throat burning from the sensation of almost drowning.
“Thank you, Silas. Wait outside until I call you again. I believe my pet is going to talk now.”
I continue to suck in air, trying to calm my body to say something witty, but the pain of not breathing is taking its toll. I feel lightheaded and weak. I don’t have a sassy comeback this time.
“Now that we have an understanding of the lengths I will go to get you to talk and tell me why my brother is here, answer me—why is he going into the Darklands?”
Sucking in another gulp of air, I glare murderously, promising his demise. “I… won’t.”
Another coughing fit captures my breath. “Tell you…anything.” It took all I have to finish the sentence.
He clenches his jaw as he flies over to me, then smacks me hard. The cut on the inside of my cheek widens, causing blood to pool into my mouth.
My body hangs limply in the chair. This time, I’ll pass out before he’s done with me. I can’t take much more of this. I won’t give him what he wants, but my body won’t hold on like my mind.
“You little…” His sentence is cut off by the ground shaking under us. It’s like a massive earthquake. It knocks my chair over, the ground smacking my sore head. The table rumbles to the floor, and the general tries to hold himself upright.
A soldier flies through the door. “General, we’re under attack. The white tyger has come for her.” His fear pulses out. I silently do a fist pump, relief washing over me. They’re here for me.
The general roars, rushing out of the tent without a backward glance. I laugh at his back, praying to all the gods that Namir rips his throat out.
30
Torque
The general’s camp is located on the road back to the city. His soldiers set up in rows of red tents on guard, waiting for me to come.
My brother has no idea what powers I possess now. How strong I’ve grown from being in command of an army, of an MC that has fought for all demons on the Mortal Realm. I share their powers, the strength coming from the blood of humans.
“I can cause a distraction, but you and Namir will have to breach either side. It will take much power from me to disable most of these demons.” Uriel’s face is tight with anger, almost as much as mine.
Namir growls in response, beginning his descent down the hill toward the eastern side of the camp. Something inside of me is pulling me toward the center, to one of the tents on the outer portion of the field.
“I’m in that direction.” I point to the tent. “I have a feeling she’s there.”
“Hurry up and get in position then, because once I unleash this much power, they are going to come for me. You need to get her out of there and to safety before we are all caught.”
The wind drifts between us as I take in the angel who will willingly sacrifice so much for us. Regardless of what happens, I will always be grateful.
His hands begin to glow, pulling in the surrounding magic. I take that as my cue to leave and make my way over to the camp. The land offers a bit of shelter with small brush and dead trees, but this far out in the Bloodlands doesn’t allow for healthy growth, especially with my brother as a ruler.
The first quake causes my footing to falter as I grip onto a tree for purchase. The moan of the earth being disrupted is loud, but I can still make out the screams of the soldiers as they get sucked into chasms now formed before me.
Where once was a beautiful flat road with plains on either side now lies split earth as if someone pulled both ends apart. Uriel’s power is so much more than I thought it would be.
I race through the destruction, my focus on the tent on the outskirts of the camp. The urgency to get there increases with every step until it feels like it’s moving my feet for me.
Sounds of fighting and Namir’s roars surround me. I try not to think about how outnumbered we are and keep pressing on.
The first soldier to attack comes at me from the side. His movement is a blur. The sword descends on me in nanoseconds, giving me hardly any time to block it.
The force of metal from our connected blades runs up my arm as I struggle to throw him off. He loses his footing and we break apart, circling one another. His evil intent shows as he rushes me again.
I parry, spinning out of his way at the last second. He’s bigger than me. In an all-out assault, I’d lose.
With his side exposed, I thrust my blade between his ribs, my sword going in like a hot knife in butter. A howl tears from his lips as his crimson lifeblood falls from him, soaking into the ground.
I don’t wait to see if he’ll die from the wound. Anima needs me, her pain banging inside of me like a death knell.
The ground rumbles again. I fall to the side, clutching at my sword. A booted foot kicks my side. A rib cracks, leaving me gasping for breath. I thrash about like a crab trying to get away from its attacker.
“The would-be king. How the mighty have fallen.” Scur’s voice flits between us like an oil slick, coating my body with its rancid flavor.
“Brother, how I’ve missed you.” I spring up from my position, ignoring the pain of my broken rib.
Blood stains the hilt of my sword, making it difficult to grip, but I think of Anima and what he’s done to her. A new resolve comes over me with each tortured inhale.
“You should have never come back. You were lucky once, running from our fight, but now I will end this once and for all. Then I will unwrap my prize piece by piece until she can no longer hold on.”
My feet move of their own accord, circling him and watching his angular face for any tells. He’s a massive man, my older brother—the one our father deemed unfit to rule. The only thing we have in common is our ruby eyes from our mother.
“I didn’t come back for you or power. There’s something bigger than us both, and I need Anima to stop it.”
He doesn’t stop his stalking, moving with me inside our arena of death. “It’s of no consequence to me what happens on that shit hole of a plane you call home. The Bloodlands are mine, and you will not take them from me.”
He blasts me with magic hidden in his palm. I go airborne without a chance of blocking it. My sword falls from my hand as I meet the ground. Mind-numbing anguish comes over me as my body is thrown into a nearby tree. More ribs break.
Scur’s on me in moments, his hand fisted in my hair, jerking me back to look him in the face. Nothing is present in his eyes except for anger and darkness. His once-happy face is marked with the poison of power. My brother is gone.
“Make sure you kill me this time because if I get free, there will be no end to my fury. I see now, Scur, there is no saving you.” I spit the blood pooling in my mouth right at his face.
He flinches back, giving me just enough leverage to pull out of his grip. I call my blood to me, hardening it like glass. It penetrates his skin, razors cutting the delicate flesh. He screams out in agony, giving me time to back up.
I wrap Anima’s smoke around my hands. I’ve been carrying it inside of myself since our kiss, our mating. Even if she didn’t tell me, I knew. I’d known she’d be mine since the first time I saw her.
Thick clouds shroud my fists. My first punch connects to his face, pushing my blood shards further into him. His blood mixes in with mine,
dripping from his chin.
I don’t stop. I land blow after blow. My clenched fists smash into his head and torso. My jabs are precise and deadly. He tries to freeze my blood, but Anima’s smoke protects me. All her power courses through the bond.
My body screams at me. It’s broken, but I continue. There’s nothing that will hold me back from getting to Anima.
One last hook has him doubling over, shaking on his feet. I give myself a moment of rest before pulling my dagger from my side. A smile plasters across my face. I’ve waited for this day for a long time.
“Remember to say hi to Father for me when you get to Hell.”
The cool metal of his blade sinks inside my thigh before I can execute my killing blow. All the blinding pain comes back, adrenaline rushing out of me like a vortex. I gasp for air, reaching blindly for anything to hold me up.
“Torgrot poison. I’m sure you’re well aware of that giant worm. Did you know it takes thirty minutes to milk their fangs? My soldiers had a hell of a time doing it, but I should be thanking you for giving us the perfect test subject.”
He knows where and what we’ve been doing this whole time. I was a fool to think we could evade him, and now I’m paying for it with mine and Anima’s life.
“I will give you three seconds to get away from him,” a monstrous voice booms from behind me.
Something I never thought I’d see happens—my brother’s bloody face freezes in true fear.
A thump of wings blows a cool breeze over my heated skin, and I collapse on the ground at Uriel’s feet. Thank the gods.
“The Fallen have arisen.” The words whisper from Scur’s lips. His feet have already begun to move. With a promised look of destruction, he turns and runs away from our fight.
“Are you okay?” Uriel drops to my side, his feathers touching the blood-soaked dirt. He looks just as he should, an archangel of death.
“His blade was poisoned, and I may have some internal bleeding. My ribs are cracked, and the right lung might be collapsing. Have you found her?”
His tense glare tells me all I need to know. Without another word, he lifts me in his arms and takes flight. My body is on fire. All of my injuries pulse as one.