Page 166 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

She does, the power twisting in her hands, and she rips it apart and fans it out, just in time to block another bolt of magic that would've hit her face.

“Chloe, get the cell,” Delina yells, and Chloe pushes past them, scrabbling with her lock picks, and Delina skids to a halt in front of her, the death blister hot against her palms.

The man holding Ambra’s leash yanks back on it, and Amber surges up to Delina, the bobble popping, up, and—

Delina lets the death in her hand snap apart, and Ambra reels away, pain searing through her head, through her neck. Blood wells up in her throat, against her chest cavity.

And it’s enough for Maison to grab Ambra by the back of her collar, heaving her away from Delina, teleporting her up and away from her, before he drops her by the side, appearing in front of Delina to block another spike of magic.

His eyes are wild, like a scared little boy, a wrecking ball of emotion and power and fury.

Another dead, and Delina pulls it back to herself, blocking another desperate shot to Chloe, whose hands shake at the lock.

Ambra screams, struggling against the leash, clawing at her neck, and the man tugs it again, spinning her back towards Delina. Tears streak down her face, red and angry, and she screeches in Delina’s face, like a monster of old.

She’s in so much pain.

“Stop—” she chokes out, and a gunshot rings out, cutting her short.

A gunshot directly into the man holding her leash’s head, and he crumples.

A moment of silence, and Gurlien lowers his gun, his eyes wide.

Ambra recoils, then scrabbles away, panting.

The first lock clicks, and Maison breaks the neck of the last person, and then there’s nothing else but the sound of their breathing.

“Mom,” he says, appearing between one moment and the next in front of the bars. “Mom, can you hear me?”

There’s no reaction.

Of course there’s no reaction, his mother isn’t breathing, there’s no spark of electricity in her mind. There’s nothing.

“Mom, can you…”

Delina grabs his wrist, untying the death around his hand, and he stumbles forward, his hands coming up to cling onto the bars. The pain blooms back in his knee.

Chloe swears, then moves to the second lock.

Delina sticks her arms through the bars, reaching towards the dead in front of her, but she can’t reach. She’s out of reach, she can’t grab her back, she can’t…

“I’ve almost got it,” Chloe mumbles, in the silence. “Give me two more seconds.”

His mom’s eyes are open, unblinking, and they’re the same shade of grey as Maison’s.

“Mom,” Maison repeats, desperate. “Mom, please—”

Chloe clicks the second lock, and the door swings forward, Maison stumbling inside, until his knees hit the floor next to his mother’s form.

He doesn’t even react to the pain.

There’s blood pooling everywhere, too much blood, and Delina’s heart pounds.

Maison cradles his mother’s head, pulling it into his lap, and his hands are shaking, before he lifts his eyes back up to Delina.

They’re bloodshot, and his face trembles.

“Delly…” he says, his voice rasping, and there’s terror there as well. “Delina, please—”

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