Page 1 of Hellish Witch

Prologue

Bang.Screeeeech.

Pop. Pop.Screeech.

My heart thundered as gunfire and twisting metal resonated through the concrete walls surrounding my cell.

A scream stabbed the distant chaos.

I could relate.

Pain blared through my puffy cheek and stiff jaw. My eye socket throbbed in time with the blood surging through my battered veins. Hunger clawed at my middle like some feral beast.

I could hardly summon the energy to get excited about whatever drama was going down beyond the plain walls of my prison.

Screams weren’t uncommon here.

Another round of pain surged through my ribs, cold air stuttering in my lungs as I fought to breathe through it.

I leaned my forehead against the icy bars of my cell. The tips of my short horns clanged against them as a curtain of my ruby curls swung past my face.

The smooth metal practically froze my hands shut around them, until I couldn’t even feel my claw tips digging into my palms, despite the small streaks of blood dripping down my hands to splatter against the filthy concrete floor. The human realm was cooler than Hell, and England was especially chilly despite the time of year.

My skinny frame shook from the effort to keep standing, but I refused to let my captors see me cower on the floor like meek prey. Whatever fun was happening beyond my cell, it wouldn’t be long until it found me too.

My thoughts drifted as I nudged them away from the pain assaulting my body and the reality of being trapped squeezing my throat.

Both my demonic energy and mage magic were so low I’d stopped being able to heal myself days ago. I’d used the last of my magic in the bigger cells, healing the deep gashes and broken bones of an elderly demon chained next to me.

It hadn’t been enough to save him.

Another scream echoed in the distance. Darkness writhed just beneath my skin in reply, and I shuddered at the unnatural sensation.

I didn’t know how long it had been since the festering maggot I’d dated had sold me to demon hunters, but I wasn’t sure how much more of theirhospitalityI could take.

Especially now they’d locked me away in my own special room. Funny how they were so touchy about me slaughtering a few of them, given what they were doing to my kind.

Both sides of my heritage.

The sole door to my solitary prison burst open with a roar of sound. A sweaty mage spilled inside, pistol raised. The door slammed shut behind him, smothering the clamour of battle.

Recognition burned through the fog of exhaustion and bled fire through my veins.

“Fenton,” I hissed, yanking at the bars. “You fangless rat! I will tear your throat out and shower in your weak blood.”

“Fuck!” The mage searched the room, frantic gaze sweeping past me like I wasn’t even there.

His brows creased as his attention finally turned to me.

The last time he’d seen me, I was covered in a lot less blood and bruising. Unfortunately, I was still in the same tight jeans and cute low-cut top as the night he’d tricked me.

In contrast, he was still a golden-hued human with his unmarred skin, wearing a pristine white shirt. The only signs of distress were the sweat dotting his brow, and the slightly ruffled look to his short hair.

Hopefully, I could turn the metallic brown as red as my own curls when I clawed his face off.

“Oh, look, it’s…” His straight nose wrinkled as he waved his gun. “I don’t even care, you’ll fucking do.”

I hissed, baring my fangs. Darkness bucked under my skin, but I didn’t dare answer its demands. It would be the last thing I did.

---