Page 39 of Surviving Hallow Hill
Thirteen
My whole bodyis racked through with shivers of equal parts fury and despair. I’m barely holding my rage in check, and Krist knows it. I can see her smiling out of my peripheral vision like this is just one big game to her.
Like she didn’t just fucking ruin Sia’s life.
The only thing that gets me through is imagining all the painful ways I am going to kill her. Instead of reaping her soul and plunging her essence into an afterlife she doesn’t deserve, I’ll leave her in limbo. Never resting, losing all sense of who and what she was in the past.
She destroyed a holy relic, a gift from our Lady of Death, and did so without remorse.
I could feel Sia’s heartbreak splinter through my own chest. He may not be a part of the same bond Rue, Styx, and I share, but we are bonded nonetheless. And I felt that pain like it was my own.
Belladonna-laced cuffs dig into my wrists. It hurts, but it isn’t agony. Not like having that thing in my spine was agony, and my body has grown used to the poison. I can escape, but I don’t know how deep Krist’s well of power runs. I don’t know what she’ll do to Kira, to Amrose.
To us.
My men are chained next to me, restless and shifting from one foot to another. Except Sia. He’s on his knees in the magic-powered elevator as it takes us up... up...
It’s an invisible, solid thing like something from the future that takes us over the domed arena and the Hallow. The ground becomes smaller and smaller to my vision until we’re nearly touching the clouds. I don’t know what strange mix of magic and technology this is, but it’s fascinating. Even when I don’t want it to be.
It makes it to what I assume is the ceiling of the dome, which opens. The scenery below blocks out as the doors close, and all I see is steel. Like the lab. When the elevator doors open, though, I don’t smell antiseptic and bleach. It smells rather normal, all things considered.
Dr. Hyde’s castle in the sky. A room that sits just over the dome, like he’s some sort of god watching over us. I guess that’s what he thinks he is. Why else would he be playing with our DNA and pitting us together?
I notice the floors look like holographic panels that change color. One moment, they look like golden armor and the next, they make way to look see-through so the world below is visible.
The second thing I notice is the warlock and his bright eyes gleaming with malice.
He bows low in Krist’s direction. “Welcome back, Headmistress Krist.”
“Well shit, long time no see, Rachel Ray.” I’d salute, but my hands are behind my back.
He ignores me to stare at Krist. She’s behind me, and I don’t like feeling so exposed. It leaves me vulnerable in a way that causes goosebumps to rise over my arms. Rule number one: don’t ever show your back to your enemies.
“Thank you, Marcen. Please tell Dr. Hyde the winners are here.” She gives the smallest of curt nods, and it spirals the little warlock into motion.
Marcen bows and exits through another sliding glass door.
“Go in and make yourselves comfortable. The good doctor will be with you in a moment.” When we don’t move, I feel her palm collide between my shoulder blades and shove me forward. I stumble out of the elevator, and Styx growls at Krist.
“It’s okay,” I tell him quietly.
I am going to fucking kill her,I say to only my mates.
Get in line, chère.
Rue and Styx get off the elevator, but Krist has to literally haul Sia after us. He’s numb, unmoving. Like he’s lost an integral part of himself. That’s what our relics are. They’re an honor, a gift, a part of us that guides us through our life journey.
And Sia just lost his.
I want to run and hug him, but the binds on my wrists prevent it from happening. Besides, I don’t want to show any emotions in front of Krist. Not that I have to worry much about that, because a moment after we all step off the elevator, she’s disappeared completely.
We’re alone in the dining-style room that smells more like a hospital than anything else. Fucking great. Just what I need. Memories of what went down with Dr. Hyde in that fucking room.
My skin starts to itch, and my heart pounds, mirroring the sensation pulsing against my temples. I tug at my bonds, desperate to be released. I can’t explain the anxiety that’s crawling through me. The need to tear through my skin, to shred it straight off muscle and bone.
My chest heaves with every breath I struggle to take in, and my vision narrows until dizziness overwhelms me.
“Chère!”
