To Darkness Bound Box Set

by Zandria West

  Alex sits on the narrow bed and bounces up and down a few times, like he’s testing the mattress for springiness.

  ‘Did you get anything useful out of him before you slit his throat?’ Gabriel asks.

  I nod. ‘I know where Lana is being held and… how she’s being treated.’

  I can’t even bring myself to say the word torture, that’s how much of a fucking coward I’ve become.

  ‘Grayson is with her,’ I say. I know this won’t be news to them. If I felt Grayson’s binding last night, Gabriel sure as hell would have. He’s the hub of the magic that holds us together.

  ‘Lana always did say that she’d find him,’ Alex says, a crooked smile. ‘Guess all his time on the wrong side of the law finally caught up with him, hey. That’s something at least, knowing they’re both prisoners together.’

  Then it hits me. They don’t know. They don’t know about Grayson. I clear my throat.

  ‘Ah, I can’t be sure, but I don’t think he’s a prisoner.’

  ‘No? What the fuck else could he be?’ Alex asks, his voice disturbingly calm.

  ‘A torturer. Working for the demons. The Angel tortures prisoners. That’s what the guard told me.’

  ‘What the fuck?’ Alex rises to his feet and slams a fist into the wall, an expression of sheer agony on his face. ‘I always knew the guy got off on pain, but seriously?’

  The wall is paper thin and now there’s a chunk taken out of it.

  Gabriel shakes his head. ‘The magic, no, it wouldn’t work like that. We’re bound to protect Lana, that binding is stronger than any other obligation. He physically couldn’t harm her, not without causing himself terrible damage…’

  I shrug. ‘It’s what the guard told me.’

  ‘I’m going to fucking kill that fucker,’ Alex hisses, pacing the too-small room.

  ‘Calm down Alex,’ Gabriel says. ‘We don’t know anything, other than the fact that Grayson is also in the prison and that they have… connected, which should be a very lucky thing for Lana. Though maybe it’s not luck at all? Who knows how the binding may have worked to bring them together...?’

  I growl low in my throat. ‘We need to get her out,’ I look from Gabriel to Alex. Between us, surely, we can come up with a plan.

  ‘If I get close enough, I’ll be able to hear her thoughts, that way we can at least know if she’s okay,’ Alex says.

  I frown. ‘We have to do better than that. We get in there and bring her back out.’

  ‘Great idea, Benji, but how?’ Alex turns on me. ‘Neither of us look exactly like demon guard material. The security at the prison is legendary.’

  ‘Perhaps there’s something we could do about that? Warlock?’ I turn to Gabriel. ‘Are you able to disguise us?’

  I have little enthusiasm for magic, but I know that Gabriel is powerful. My guess is that we’ve only ever seen a fraction of what he can do. If any of us is going to find a way to rescue Lana, it will be Gabriel.

  He frowns. ‘There is a chance I could cast a seeming that would transform your appearance for a time. It would be difficult to maintain, especially at a distance, and would require great energy and concentration on my part. I could probably only manage it for one of you. But that still doesn’t answer the question of how we get Lana out…’

  ‘We figure that out when we come to it,’ I say, my pulse racing. Whatever we’re going to do, I want to do it now.

  ‘Gabe’s right,’ Alex says. ‘There’s no way we’d get her back through, even if one of us could pass as a guard. There are checks and double-checks. Nobody just walks out of there.’

  ‘Could you disguise Lana too?’ I ask, turning to Gabriel.

  He shakes his head. ‘Maintaining one transformation would be difficult enough. Even that might fail. Two, I think, would be beyond me.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ I say. ‘If you can change me. I owe it to Lana. Once I’m in, I’ll make contact with Grayson and see if he can help us. Maybe he can create a distraction of some kind. We’ll work together, just like the old days. What else are we going to do? Just sit out here and wait for them to kill her?’

  There’s a long silence before Gabriel finally speaks.

  ‘There are no guarantees that any of this will be possible,’ he says slowly. ‘I’ll need my grimoire for guidance. And the Talisman of the Great Witch to power the enchantment. This is not a spell I have dared to cast before. And to attempt it without Ruark...’

  I frown. Gabriel’s grimoire was a dusty old book full of indecipherable words and strange drawings that sometimes flickered and changed as though with a life of their own. It always gave me the creeps. Gabriel used to spend half his life buried in its pages. And the Great Witches Talisman, while less obviously magical, creeped me out even more. It was a human tooth, yellow and ancient. Disgusting, though Gabriel assured me that its magical power was unmatched.

  ‘Do you have the things you need?’ I ask.

  ‘The grimoire is with me. The Talisman should be in my house, if it wasn’t burned or stolen in the attack that is,’ his expression darkens. ‘We have no way of knowing that my house isn’t being watched, though. Going back there might be walking straight into the hands of our enemies.’

  ‘Is there another way?’ Alex asks. ‘You can’t, you know, phone a friend? Call in some magical assistance?’

  Gabriel shakes his head. ‘There is nobody I trust. And I cannot perform magic so complex without the Talisman. We must recover it first, and then I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Alright then, let’s move,’ I stand and begin pulling my boots on.

  ‘I thought you’d be happy to see these again, you mangy mutt,’ Alex says and passes across a leather-wrapped bundle. As soon as I feel its weight, I know exactly what it is.

  ‘Thank you, friend.’ I carefully unwrap the leather and inspect my knives. I left them behind when I changed into wolf-form. The blade I killed the demon guard with was jagged, rusty and poorly-weighted, though it served its purpose well enough. These, though, are so well-made and finely-honed they are close to perfection. I strap my weapon belt on and begin equipping it, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and energy.

  ‘So, ah, we noticed that you stripped the guy after you killed him,’ Alex says, leaning back on the bed and watching me. ‘What was that about? Some kind of weird wolf-fetish thing?’

  I grunt and shake my head as I slide the final knife into its place. ‘His uniform. I got it.’

  ‘Good thinking, Reuben. The uniform will help us with the disguise,’ Gabriel says.

  ‘It needs a wash,’ I say, pulling the clothes from where I’d hidden them behind a small cupboard and chucking them to Alex.

  ‘No shit.’ He holds the top up and sniffs at the extensive bloodstains darkening the material.

  ‘Demon blood,’ Gabriel murmurs, frowning. ‘That could be useful. The blood of a demon guard. If I can harness its power, it may assist with the transformation spell.’

  I do a last check around the room to be sure there’s nothing I’m leaving behind. I would have preferred a few more hours’ sleep, but now that we have a plan, there’s no way I could rest. I’ll be surprised if I’m able to sleep again at all, until we find Lana.

  ‘Ready?’ I ask.

  Alex and Gabriel both nod their assent.

  I open the door and step out into the night.

  8

  GRAYSON

  Through a small window I can see, beyond the high walls, the city, grey and ancient. Even if I were able to walk from here a free man, I would never be free from what I have done.

  So many souls. So much pain.

  Humans think the God of Light is kind and merciful, bestowing blessings, but I know otherwise. Light is cold and hard and blinding. Light has no mercy. I know this better than any, because he has shown me no mercy since he cast me out. It is on his command that I have done all this, broken so many. And of course, the great God of Light does not care because to him these are lesser beings, these d
wellers of the demon realm. Their suffering is incidental. Desirable, even.

  But here is what I have learned. Regardless of what a person has done or who they are, suffering of the kind I bring reduces all to the same constituent parts: fear, grief, horror, regret. Everyone longs to be free of suffering. At the very end, all look for mercy. And my job was to give them pain.

  I pace the room, waiting.

  They should have called me hours ago. I don’t understand what’s happening. I feel Lana on my skin, I taste her, I long for her. I long to touch her, even if only to give and take pain. But they have not called me.

  I don’t know why.

  Completing the binding has restored my power and energy. I can feel some greater force flowing through me, Gabriel’s magic I suppose. They are coming, the brothers I have lost, I know they are, but how will they reach her? Will they be too late? And how can I protect her until then?

  I remember the way she looked at me, with such hope and misplaced trust. She thought I had come to save her.

  Sometimes I think that everything that has been asked of me has been an elaborate ploy so my God might watch me suffer. He’s cruel like that. We’re little more than toys to him.

  He promised me that if I did my part, I would one day return to the Angelic Realm which is my eternal home and which I miss every moment of every day. Until his work is done, I’m stuck here, surrounded by demons.

  They never let me hide my face.

  I’ve tortured hundreds of prisoners, thousands even. As a human, Lana was the only one I was permitted to use my power on, to relieve her of her pain. For the rest, my God decided they deserved the torture. I was his tool, acting at his command. Most prisoners are released eventually. They walk the streets of this city, and they will see me and they will remember. The things I do, nobody can forget. I won’t last five minutes outside these walls before a tidal wave of revenge will break on me.

  Then there are the others. My brothers. The closest I’ve ever come to blood. Gabriel. Alexander. Reuben. That was the deal I made with the Demon Council when I was captured – this work I do is to guard my brothers’ lives. As long as I remain within these four walls, they are safe. As long as I continue inflicting pain and torture, they can continue to breathe.

  Demons drive a hard bargain. I think they mostly liked the poetry of it – me, an angel, trapped in the most hellish corner of the demon realm, inflicting pain. It’s a game to them, watching and waiting for me to break. What they don’t know is, I’ve already broken.

  My brothers will not forgive me. They are not aware of any of this, all they know is that I left and did not return.

  I look at the clock that sits above my bed. I can’t wait any longer. I pull a hooded cloak on in the hope that it will offer some anonymity, then leave the small room and begin the long walk to Lana’s cell. Last night, I bribed three guards to learn where she was. They all chuckled knowingly like they guessed what I was after, and the worst part of it is that they were right. I wanted her with a desperation like nothing I’ve felt before. I took her, broken and helpless between walls of stone and bars of steel. News like that will travel. I give a nod to the guard on the door of J wing. He looks me up and down and raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask any questions. Nobody questions me. They all know who I am and what I do.

  He unlocks the door and opens it and I step through.

  My skin prickles with the smells and sounds of incarcerated demons. A medley of grunts and groans, cries and calls. So harsh. To think of her here, amongst all this… I want to rage at my God and at the world for allowing it. I steel myself and walk down the corridor. I come to her door, and find the key on my belt, the one that cost me three weeks’ wages to procure. I open the door and look into the grim darkness of the cell where the light of my lamp barely penetrates, but I know even before my eyes adjust that it’s empty. She’s not here. I’d feel her if she was, the shimmering warmth of her presence sparking over my skin. I narrow my eyes and study the empty space as though it might give me information.

  I hear the faintest sound, so quiet that for a moment I wonder if I’m imagining it. A soft whimpering comes through the bars from the cell next to hers, where the werewolf child is being held. He was brought in with her from the Grey Pack, Reuben’s pack.

  Perhaps the child can help me?

  I close and lock Lana’s cell, and pace quickly down to the next door. I’m taking a risk revealing myself like this, but he’s only a child. What can he do?

  I fit the key in the lock, it sticks a little before it turns, and then I edge the door open and step inside, closing it silently behind me.

  By the light of the lamp I carry, I see a young boy cowering in the corner. His dark brown hair grows in shaggy curls, and his cheeks are tear-stained, but he looks otherwise unharmed.

  ‘Child?’ I say.

  ‘Who are you?’ he asks in a low, tense voice.

  ‘Someone who has come to ask you a question. The girl in the next cell, do you know what has happened to her? Did you hear someone come and take her today?’

  The boy looks up at me, and for a moment doesn’t say anything. I can sense that he’s assessing me. Not whether he can trust me, because of course he can’t, but what I might do to him if he doesn’t answer.

  ‘Please, I won’t mention to anybody that you’ve spoken to me,’ I say, making my words as soothing as I can. Usually the only time the word please is used between these walls is to me, when someone’s begging me to stop.

  ‘They came for both of us, but they only kept her,’ he says, sniffling.

  My heart quickens. ‘Who came? What happened?’

  ‘They… they took us to bathe. And then we went to some important guy’s rooms and he made us this amazing dinner and we ate it and then a witch arrived and I don’t think Lana liked her very much at all and then they kept Lana and sent me back here. I’ve been waiting for her to come back but she’s never come back…’ He sniffs again.

  ‘What did this “important guy” look like?’ I ask, though I hardly need to.

  ‘He didn’t look like a guard. He was too clean. He didn’t wear a uniform. And he had glasses.’

  All the pieces are clicking into place in my mind. Darian took her. Though for what purpose I don’t know. And to bring a witch, unrestrained, into the confines of the Demon Prison? That is unheard of and a serious breach of Council policy. What is he playing at?

  ‘Oh, I remember the name of the witch, too,’ the boy continues, looking up at me with big trusting eyes. ‘It was Garenda. Lana thought that the witch had killed her brother, but then it turned out her brother was still alive, or that’s what the witch said anyway. It was all pretty weird.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘You’ve been helpful.’

  I turn to go, ignoring the lurch in my chest that I’m leaving an innocent child trapped in such a terrible place.

  ‘You’re her friend, aren’t you?’ The boy speaks the words to my back in a small, certain voice.

  I freeze.

  ‘It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone. I’m glad she’s got a friend. She tried to save me. That’s why she’s here. It’s all my fault.’ He dissolves into tears.

  I listen to him cry.

  Since I came here, I’ve heard every expression of agony imaginable and some that are beyond imagination. But it is so long since I heard simple sorrow, untainted by my own brand of pain. It seems a thousand lifetimes since any called me friend. To hear the word now moves something in me that I thought long-dead.

  I turn. ‘It’s not your fault. None of this is.’

  He stops crying and looks at me, his eyes as wide as saucers, an expression of wonder and horror on his face.

  I shake my head, then turn again and leave, locking the door after me.

  So, Lana is with Garenda? An ancient witch with a reputation for brute force magic. Most witches act with reverence for the power they draw on. They understand the flow, they do not oppose it. They see their magic as a sacre
d gift. From what Gabriel has told me, Garenda would break a thing before she would understand it.

  Fear coils tight in the pit of my stomach.

  What if she decides that breaking Lana is the best way to learn her secrets?

  I turn and hurry back the way I came, barely sparing a glance for the guard at the door.

  9

  GABRIEL

  I keep expecting to see my crow.

  Countless times I have walked these streets with Ruark shadowing me. He would glide between roof-tops, perch on lamp posts, land on darkened cobblestones. He had a gift for staying just out of sight, but close enough that I could call on him at will. Never once did he fail me.

  I miss my familiar like a drowning man misses air. Each step I take I want to break down and weep for his loss, but I cannot: my purpose is clear and urgent. I must find the Great Witch’s talisman, seek the spell I need, and rescue Lana. I cannot allow myself to be distracted by grief.

  The streets are quiet. It seems we pass unnoticed, though there is no way of knowing if even now someone is watching us and reporting our presence to the Demon Guard. We have no choice but to continue on, hoping that our movements are not observed. The last few blocks to my house feel almost endless. Every step we take I expect the silence to be broken by sirens and shouts, every alleyway we approach I tense myself as I wait for an attack to be launched. We reach the final block and still there has been nothing. Not a stirring. Perhaps our luck will hold?

  My house is a wreck as I knew it would be; it was I who wrecked it. Still the sight shocks me to the core. The walls are blackened, and the roof half torn off. The door hangs wide open and all the windows have been smashed. I’m sure the place has been looted – my neighbours are not the types to ignore an opportunity for easy gain at another’s expense. The Great Witch’s talisman, though, the most precious of my possessions, has its own defences against those who are not permitted to handle it, so although I am anxious, I am still hopeful of finding it untouched.