Page 158 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

Locking eyes with Delina, she paces, right at the glass separating them.

The blackened wound on her cheek, from Delina’s strike, still flakes, as if no time at all had passed. Her gut wound still glistens with black blood, and her claw marks from her own fingernails on her neck still bleed.

There’s still the leash around her neck.

On the shaved side of her head, three electro patches stick to the skin, wires draping down her back. Medical leads, like ones Delina’s seen on EKG machines, all directly into her brain.

“Oh fuck,” Chloe says, the moment she sees the demon, and the demon deliberately flickers her eyes over to Chloe, appraising, not stopping in her pace.

Maison straightens, then winces, his knee wobbling, and the demon’s gaze immediately snaps to him.

She bares her teeth at Maison, halfway between a smile and aggression, before she mouths something.

Of course, no sound reaches through the glass, and she scowls in frustration at that.

“So this is where they keep her,” Gurlien says, stepping close to the glass, and she jerks to look at him instead, an evaluating expression over her face. “Not my first choice, but I guess it’s safe.”

The Demon paces back over to Delina and Maison, and mouths something again, then tugs a finger underneath the leash.

The nameplate reads ‘Ambra, Terese Project.’

“Fuck,” Maison says, staring at the words on the nameplate. “They succeeded.”

45

They all stare at the nameplate, and the demon—Ambra—paces, her steps short and agitated, before she waves at them for attention.

This time, her gaze locks onto Delina, and slowly, deliberately, mouths, “Free me.”

“What are the chances she’s going to kill me the moment I bring down the runes?” Delina asks, craning her neck up to Maison.

“She’s not going to get to touch you,” he growls, staring the demon down, who is currently actively ignoring him to mouth the words to Delina again.

“Can she hear us?” Chloe asks, small. There’s more color in her cheeks now, like the walk down the hallway settled more of herself.

The demon—Ambra—nods.

Gurlien straightens, and the demon’s eyes snap over to him, mouthing, “Free me,” again.

“We are bringing the runes down,” Gurlien says, clinical, as if he’s remarking on the weather. “You’ll be able to go where you want and escape.”

The demon shakes her head, then tugs at the leash around her neck again to demonstrate. So she wouldn’t, she would still be under whatever control they had of her.

“We have to free the child in the room right next to yours,” Gurlien continues, the faux bored tone belaying a tremor underneath it. “Don’t hurt one of us, and we will do what we can to free you.”

Ambra looks over to Maison, as if gauging his reaction, narrowing her eyes.

“You touch her, you die,” Maison says, and the demon nods, something close to relief on her face, like for once she’s understanding the context.

“Shit,” Chloe breathes, as Ambra resumes her pacing in the tiny space. “Shit, this is going to be bad.”

Ambra nods again, at that.

“The moment we bring down the runes, at least eight people are going to die,” Delina says, and the demon nods along, as if she knew all of this. “I will use one of the deaths to defend myself.”

Ambra mouths, “Good.”

“Is there any way to bring down just some of the runes?” Maison asks, and the demon bares her teeth at him.

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