Page 19 of Hellfire to Come
Then came the shrieks.
The screaming.
Not mine, for once. Definitely not mine.
I sat bolt upright on the cracked stone slab they so generously called a cot, heart thundering like it was sprinting for the exit without the rest of me. The chain clinked in protest, a macabre rhythm of pooling rusted metal at my feet.
That wasn’t the usual “ritual murder” ambiance the Council liked to provide.
What I was hearing was a fight.
Real combat.
Familiar chaos.
My mouth fell open before I could allow myself to hope. “No. Freaking. Way.”
Another boom echoed through the floor. Dust rained down in a puff, and one of the glowing wards in the far corner of the cell flickered. My chain shifted slightly looser.
Holy hell.
Brooklyn was here.
I could feel her. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why but there was no mistaking the surge of heat along my spine, the sudden punch of comfort and sheer defiance.
She was pissed.
And she wasn’t alone.
“You beautiful, terrifying bitch,” I whispered, a cackle catching in my throat. My hand pressed to the center of my chest where the bond pulsed like a war drum. “I was hoping you wouldn’t but you actually came.”
And then I stood up so fast I immediately headbutted the low stone beam above the cot.
“OW…damn it!” I hissed, stumbling back and clutching my forehead. “Okay. Still a prisoner. Still stupid architecture.”
I blinked back stars and took in the cell again, really looked at it this time. The room was barely six steps wide. The walls were damp, streaked with mildew, the stones weeping condensation that stank of rot and despair. Old symbols glowed faintly in the corners, wards meant to suppress, to break down the will. It was like being locked inside a dying memory. Maybe that’s why I felt so depressed all the time. No windows either. No sounds except for distant dripping water, groaning stone, and now the thunder of war.
I paced the length of my cage, every nerve on fire.
She was here. They were here. And I wasn’t about to just sit here waiting to be scooped up like a lost puppy.
Nope.
I was meeting them halfway.
Even if I had to chew through the damn chains.
The shackle flared again, sparks licking across my skin, and I flinched. The ward in the corner pulsed harder now from dim to bright, like a heartbeat. Like it knew what was coming.
I narrowed my eyes at it.
“Okay, magic rock light… you and me are gonna have a moment.”
It was now or never.
I’d been watching the witches, memorizing their movements, how their fingers danced when they cast spells, how they channeled energy through runes, how their faces went really pinched when they had to focus. I didn’t have spells, not really. But if I could just fake it like I had faked everything else that worked so far…
I drew a shaky breath and held my palm up to the ward, closing my eyes. A picture of Yoda came to mind when he used the force in the movie, and I burst out laughing with no control. Okay, I was in shock and my brain was trying not to short-circuit by using humor. Collecting myself was harder than I would’ve thought, but I wrangled my crazy down. My hand lifted toward the ward again.
