Page 8 of Hell Sent

She leaned even closer, looking down on him, and he braced himself to be struck.

“I don’t know if you can understand me,” she whispered. “And I know you will likely kill me if I release you. But I would rather die now, on my own terms, than by his hand.”

He blinked slowly at her. She was fidgeting. He looked down at her feet, and she was vigorously scratching the floor with her slipper. Vigorously, and stealthily.

“All I ask is that if you must take my life, take his, as well.” There was a distinct note of desperation in her voice.She said nothing else, just glanced over her shoulder at the others. Her faint anxiety was blooming into true fear.

With her toe, she was scratching at one of the runes Eunaios had drawn on the ground, and the paint was wearing away. She was… erasing it.

Suddenly, the rune flickered and then went dark, its magic extinguished as she destroyed the mark. She looked up at Azreth, eyes wide, then hurriedly backed away.

From across the room, Nirlan finally took notice of his wife. He frowned at both of them, suspicious.“What are you doing?”

Azreth looked down at the broken rune. Cautiously, he tried pulling the chain attached to his wrist. It easily came up from the ground with a snap.

She’d freed him.

She’d freed him?

The room filled with shouts. The mortals ran from him, fighting over the doorway. Eunaios and Nirlan were closest to him, both watching him with growing horror.

Nirlan grabbed Eunaios. “Finish the spell!”

Azreth shot to his feet, fighting the numbness in his legs as he took the manacle in his teeth and wrenched the metal apart. He grabbed the collar and destroyed it next, and suddenly there was nothing holding him back. In two strides, he’d crossed the room and picked up Eunaios by the front of his robe. The man’s eyes were wide as Azreth lifted him high, opened his mouth, and sank his teeth into his throat, cutting off his screams.

Blossom-sweet blood sprayed down Azreth’s throat. The mage panicked and raged, writhing and twitching. His emotions blazed and spiraled and then quieted with acceptance of his fate.It was just as good as Azreth had imagined. There was nothing that tasted more exquisite than death.

As he threw aside the mage’s body, a burst of warmth hit his side. Confused by the sensation, he turned to see a woman with a ball of magical flame in her hand. He realized it had been an attempt to hurt him. So he went to her and ripped out her throat, too, and again he drowned in delicious anguish.

As he dropped her, he was panting with a sort of ragged, hysterical joy, mortal blood covering his mouth and chest. This was everything he’d dreamed of.He had a sudden, wild urge to laugh.

When a set of guards approached, wearing steel armor and wielding steel blades, he simply picked up one and threw him into the wall, crumpling his armor. The next guard stabbed at Azreth with his ridiculous, brittle sword, which merely glanced off Azreth’s skin. The mortal blanched. He started to turn and run, but Azreth knocked him to the ground and pressed his palm to the man’s chest, crushing him slowly until his body snapped inward with a satisfying crunch.

As panicked shouts moved down the hallway, Azreth stood at ease, his mind hazy with bloodlust and satisfaction. All the other mortals had wisely run.

Except one. He could smell her fear from across the room.

He turned to look at the dark-eyed woman. The wife. She’d pressed her back against the wall, keeping as far away from him as possible. As he looked at her, her knees buckled, and she slid to the floor. She looked at him like he was a monster. He supposed he was.

Curiosity nagged at him. She’d asked him for death twice now. He’d never met someone so eager to die.

As the mortal blood cooled on his skin, he sobered. There could be other mages here. Other traps. Guards who wielded iron instead of steel. The thought chilled him.

He couldn’t let himself be trapped here again. He needed to get out.

He turned and moved down the hallway after the others, leaving the woman to her own devices.

He followed the sounds of mortal cries down the dark tunnels. The building was enormous and labyrinthine. Several times, he was confronted by more guards. He quickly ended them.

He found his way up a flight of ancient steps into an equally ancient building made from blocks of dark gray stone. He was above ground now, and windows on the walls gave him glimpses of a black sky dotted with stars.

That alien sky frightened him. He was in a strange world filled with unexpected dangers. He had avoided becoming enslaved to the mortals, but only narrowly. He needed time to rest and consider his options. He needed to get out of this place.

He came to a set of massive doors at the end of a large hall, and he could smell fresh air leaking through them. He burst through the doors, and suddenly he was outside.

Cold, uninviting air blew over his skin. The sky opened up above him, vast and empty and dark. Ahead of him was a sort of courtyard and another massive wall. A prison inside a prison.

It was a castle. Eunaios and Nirlan had summoned him into its dungeon.

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