Page 10 of House of Ruin
“You’ve been drinking already?” Andro asked, clasping a hand over Blaze’s shoulder. “It’s barely eleven a.m.”
Blaze twisted his body, trying to stretch fatigued muscles.
“On the West Coast, it’s already late afternoon,” he replied with a shrug. “I’m heading for Sparkling Hoof. You game?”
For a moment, Andro considered Blaze with a slight frown.
But then, his best friend jerked his chin and said, “Always.”
4
The smell of blood lingering in the air was the first thing Blaze noticed.
Then there was the body.
It wasn’t the first time Blaze had seen a dead body. He had witnessed multiple witches’ deaths—Galliermo used to take Blaze and Dominic to Kelthazane every spring to witness the executions of the most notorious criminals when they were children. Every witch of the high society would be there; it was one of those hot events nobody wanted to miss.
So, yes, Blaze was as used to death as a demon was used to the heat. It was a familiar sight that had become rather welcoming.
But nothing could have prepared Blaze for what hung on iron chains from the statue of Venefica’s founder, where four paths met in the middle of the campus.
The cadaver’s limbs were twisted and turned, hanging awkwardly from the body held by the chains. The deceased’s dark clothing was ripped to nothing, revealing a naked chest with a hole where the heart should have been.
It took Blaze a few moments to recognize Jack Riverblood, High Priest of the House of Tigers, hanging off those chains, half his face ripped to shreds.
Through the thick fog of intoxication, Blaze tried to make sense of the unexpected sight in front of him, of the darkness surrounding the campus, only the light orbs hovering over the ground, lighting the paths.
Blaze blinked a few times, glaring at his palms painted with red, his skin feeling sticky. Nothing made sense.
Beneath his feet, there was a small altar set up—a circle painted with blood, foreign symbols surrounding it, and in the very middle sat a heart, still fresh and bleeding, with a dozen needles sticking from it.
“Blaze.” Andro’s voice came from somewhere behind him.
Slowly, Blaze turned, stumbling on his own feet, to find Andro and Gael rushing towards him through the main campus path.
“Blaze,” Andro repeated, slowing down when he took in the view in front of him. Blaze blinked again, speechless. “What the fuck—”
Blaze shrugged, turning to look at the gruesome view behind him again.
“I don’t remember how I got here,” he mumbled, more to himself than Andro. “I went to the bathroom, and then I was here.”
Andro walked closer, coming to a stop by the small altar.
“What did you touch?” he asked. When Blaze didn’t reply immediately, Andro insisted again, “What the fuck did you touch, asshat? Your hands are bloody.”
Once more, Blaze glanced at his hands, realizing this time that it was, indeed, blood.
Jack’s blood.
“I don’t know,” he said, wiping his hands on his black jeans, smearing the blood everywhere.
Andro cursed under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Fucking Hel, Blaze,” he said then. “You left for the bathroom and didn’t come back for like a fucking hour.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” Gael chimed in, coming closer now as well. His eyes were wide as he watched the statue and the dead body. “We thought you were with that chick from the Monkeys in the bathroom, so we didn’t check. But when we saw her come back and you were nowhere near, we came looking.”
