Page 24
Story: A Fire in the Flesh
Blood trickled from his mouth as I tore the glass free. He smacked a hand over his throat and stumbled back.
I didn’t let him get far.
Aiming low, I kicked him, taking his legs out from under him. He hit the floor with a nice thud, blood seeping between his fingers and running down his arm and chest—dull, red blood that smelled of stale lilacs.
Knowing he’d probably recover quickly, I moved onto my knees and straddled him, lifting the broken glass above my head.
He reached for my arm, his movements slow and weak as I drove the glass down into his throat. Blood spurted, splattering the front of my gown, the length of my hair, and my cheeks. His body jerked, his blood-soaked fingers sliding off my skin. I slammed the glass down once more, grunting when it hit the floor beneath him. What remained of his neck were a few raw, bright pink tendons.
My lip curled in disgust as I rocked back. Callum was dead. For now. I knew it wouldn’t last, so I figured the more injuries he had to heal, the better it would be for me.
Through the opening in his shirt, I saw no scar left behind from when Attes had thrown the dagger at him. But there hadn’t been any signs on the Revenant called Dyses, either, and Ash had torn his heart free.
With both hands, I drove the glass through Callum’s chest. Flesh tore, and cartilage gave way. The glass sank deep, slicing through muscle. I hit his heart and gave the dagger a nice twist with a savage smile. Then I got him in the groin.
Just because.
Wiping the blood from my face with the back of my hand, I searched his pockets, finding a single golden key. I rose and stepped over the Revenant. Not knowing how long I had before Callum resurrected, I wasted no time. Blood dripped from the broken glass as I hurried from the cage.
Outside, I gripped the bars of the door. I hissed, fiery pain erupting across my hand when I pushed the door shut. Then, quickly, I shoved the key into the lock, turning it.
“Fucker.” Sparing one last glance at Callum, I started to turn but then stopped, looking down at the key in my hand.
I moved to the side, in front of the bed, and carefully extended my arm through the bars. I flung the key into the cage, watching it slide deep beneath the bed.
“Just in case,” I told myself as I spun. If I ended up back in the cage, I’d at least have a key.
The shadowstone was cold beneath my feet as I crossed the chamber. My mind quieted when I neared the doors. It was almost like donning the veil of nothingness because I felt nothing. No fear for my life. No fear of failure. That had been trained out of me, but unlike the times my mother had sent me to deliver her messages, I didn’t feel like a monster.
I felt like vengeance and wrath come to life.
The embers in my chest hummed. Cleaning my hand on my gown, I curled my fingers around the gilded door handle. I doubted these were unguarded.
Opening it, I kept myself hidden and pressed against the wall. A second later, I saw that I’d been right. Through the crack between the door and wall, I saw a guard’s white and gold armor.
I waited, knowing it was likely a god, and there could be more. There should be, but only the one entered.
One?
Kolis only had one guard stationed outside the chamber. Seriously?
I was kind of offended.
The moment the guard caught sight of the mess in the cage, he halted. “What the—?” He cursed, gripping the edge of the door and moving to close it.
I struck, pushing off the wall. Gripping the back straps of his chest armor, I thrust the glass into the base of the guard’s skull as I leapt, driving my knee into the center of his back.
The god grunted, staggering forward under my weight and the unexpected blow. He went down on one knee, his hand reaching for the hilt of the short sword at his waist.
“I don’t think so,” I snarled, wrenching the god’s head sharply to the side. The crack of bone was sickening yet satisfying.
I didn’t think a broken neck would keep a god down for long, but shadowstone? That would. Leaving the fractured glass cock embedded in the back of the god’s skull, I reached for the sword—
The air charged around me as I unsheathed it. I could feel it dancing across my skin when the god straightened his neck. The cracking of bone turned my stomach as he planted his palm on the floor. Bluish-red blood darkened his brown hair.
“You fucking bitch,” he spat. “What in the fuck is in the back of my head?”
“A cock.” I lifted the sword.
Table of Contents
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