Page 10 of Firefly

No one in the family knew how much of his time he spent down there, but they all suspected it was a great deal of it.

At the bottom of the stairs, Alexander wasted no time moving to the center of the room and flipping open his journal filled with spells and the ramblings of their long-deceased family members.

“Come, Rebecca. Don’t waste my time.”

Rebecca moved stiffly, unable to keep memories of prior experiments from her mind as she reached the table and stood beside her father.

“I said don’t waste my time,” he snarled, gripping her arms tightly as he lifted her onto the table.

She held in a cry as she slid back, putting space between herself and her father. His grip would leave marks.

“Lay down.”

She knew those words were coming, but some defiant part of her had wanted to make him say them, to prove to herself she wasn’t at his mercy, no matter how untrue it might be.

She lay back, staring up at the darkened ceiling as Alexander lifted his amulet from around his neck and shot a ring of orange flame around it, suspending it overhead. The heat from his flame warmed her chest and lit the room.

As he began mumbling, Rebecca let her gaze wander, stopping on the gargoyles for a moment to wonder why he’d had the hideous things commissioned before deciding she didn’t care what her father did. Something glinted in the dark, startling her: shackles hanging from the ceiling.

“No,” she breathed as she took in the limp form hanging from them—swallowed by the darkness—chocolate locks obscuring his face from view.

Chapter 8

Simon

Simon groaned, blinking in the dark. As his eyes adjusted to the dim space, dread froze him, drowning out any minor aches.

Rebecca was bound and gagged, draped over her father’s table. The one Simon had seen Alexander use dozens of times to strap down men and women as he pulled demons from them, killing them in the process.

A hundred different scenarios played out in his mind as he tried to imagine how this could have happened. A demon had possessed her; she had tried to run, and her father had stopped her. She had come down and found him chained to the ceiling and tried to save him…

If it were the last, he would die before he’d let her pay for him.

Rebecca moaned, her eyes fluttering open.

“Good. You’re both awake. Let me tell you how this will go.”

Simon tore his gaze from Rebecca’s too-pale cheeks, glaring daggers at Alexander.

Reading the murder in his eyes, Alexander chuckled. “The two of you will do everything I ask. If one of you steps out of line, the other pays for it.”

Rebecca moaned again, drawing Simon’s gaze back to her. She was awake, but her eyes were unfocused. Whatever Alexander had done to her, she wasn’t lucid. He wished for nothing more than to be free of his restraints and tear the head from Alexander’s body, watching as his life drained from him.

Alexander moved between them, blocking Simon’s view, and scowled, his jaw clenching tightly before he whispered something, raising his arms over his head and stepping back.

“Are you ready to listen, Rebecca?” It was a rhetorical question as she was still immobile on the table, mouth covered. But her eyes had cleared, and her focus rested wholly on her father, the hate simmering in her gaze, a mirror to Simon’s own.

Alexander leaned over Rebecca, untying her gag and the ropes securing her wrists. He left her feet tied, motioning for her to sit up. She touched her lips, staring at the red smeared across her fingers, and darted a glance at Simon.

His vision had gone black at the edges, something feral begging to be released, to punish the man who had made her bleed, but no amount of pulling at his restraints would free him. They were spelled. Even a broken thumb wouldn’t release him.

He writhed in anger, watching as Alexander instructed her to repeat his words. She did, never breaking eye contact with her father as she spoke. Alexander drew a small blade from the bag beside him and ran it down the length of her forearm.

Deep crimson welled along its path, bleeding over her fair skin before it ran down her arm, over the tip of her finger and into a bowl in Alexander’s waiting hand. The bowl filled, and Alexander replaced it with a second, carelessly spilling her life force on the dirt floor as he took his time retrieving it from the same bag.

When the second bowl had filled, Rebecca swayed, and Simon’s stomach dropped. “You’ll kill her.”

Alexander ignored him, digging through his bag for a third bowl. When he’d found it, he held it out, pressing either side of her cut to stimulate blood flow. Simon thrashed in his chains uselessly, shouting in frustration, but Alexander ignored him even as Rebecca grew paler.

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