Page 23

Chapter 8

HEL

The sour smell of the dungeons filled Hel’s nostrils. He flicked his fingertips and a burning civar appeared between them to mask the mildew. With the wave of his hand the torches along the walls lit up, bringing an orange flickering light to the darkness. His boots lightly clapped over the dirty stone steps until he made it to the bottom level and rounded the corner to find Synick sat in a chair against the wall behind bars. Hel stopped directly outside his cell and took a drag.

“Gods, it smells like shit down here.”

“It’s the dungeons,” War said, as if it should be obvious. He’d gotten down here first but by the lack of fresh blood, his cousin hadn’t been doing much.

Leave it to Hel to do the dirty work. Not that he minded.

Synick lifted his head. Giving him full view of his putrid face. He was filthy from crown to toe and the bloodstains on his top looked brown and rusted. Katagas serum and chains kept him in his cell.

“You look like you crawled out of a demon’s asshole,” Hel said and took a puff of the sweet herbs.

Synick rolled his eyes or at least tried to. Only the good one seemed capable of the movement. The decayed eye was cloudy and stared endlessly ahead. “Get me out of these chains.”

“Let me get right to that.” He gave him the middle finger instead.

War stuck a key into the lock and metal grated on metal, squealing as he tugged the door open. Hel pulled a dirty wooden chair from the wall and twisted it around to sit. He rested his elbow on the back of it and took an inhale of his civar. Something moved in the decaying side of Synick’s face, a maggot perhaps. Hel nearly shuddered. “How did you get out of the underrealm?” He blew smoke into his face. “You’ve been sucking cock and got a favor?”

“Fuck you,” Synick growled.

War’s fist cracked against the good half of his flesh, and blood sprayed across the floor. He groaned but lifted his chin defiantly.

“You bleed easier than you used to,” War said.

“Come on, Syn,” Hel drawled. “Confession is good for the soul. Or so I hear.”

“How should I know? I saw an opening and I took it.”

“You were just sitting there in your misery and suddenly a portal opened? And it really must be misery for a god down there. It’s the oldest rivalry time has, demons versus gods.” There were some people he might feel sorry for having to endure what he no doubt had, but Synick wasn’t one of those people. “Has it been so long you have forgotten I can taste lies?”

Synick stared at him. The cloudy, lidless eye suddenly flicked side to side then forward again. “It’s worse than you can imagine.”

“I don’t need to imagine it. I’ve been there.”

“Not as long as I have.”

“Thank the Maker for that. But here’s the thing,” Hel took another pull on his civar, “no one could have known when Valeen was going to open the portal to Runevale. And it wouldn’t explain a doorway into the underrealm.”

“I don’t know.”

War hit him in the face again, knocking him and his chair to the ground. Synick groaned then spit a glob of saliva and blood near Hel’s boot. War dragged him and the chair upright once again. “You really have fallen from grace. Rotten, filthy, and can you even see out of that eye?”

“You wouldn’t expect after thatbitchkilled me, I’d be exactly the same, would you?”

Hel snarled, leaned forward and snatched a handful of Synick’s hair, scraping his nails against his scalp. “I’d cut out your tongue, but I need you to be able to speak. You know what you don’t need though?” The burning end of Hel’s civar glowed orange in the low light of the dungeon. He rolled it in between his fingers, then shoved it into Synick’s good eye. “To see.”

“You fucking bastard!” Synick roared, jerking like a fish caught on a line. Hel got up from his chair, kicking it aside, and drove his knee onto Synick’s thigh to keep him from tipping back and smiled. There was something poetic about being able to torture the male who had made his life miserable since childhood.

“Let’s move on. It doesn’t really matter how you got out. You’re already here. Where would the council hide our immortality? Where are their most secret hiding places?” He pulled the civar back, keeping it ready for the other eye.

“I’ve been gone a long time. And I was dead before they did their ritual to take your immortality. You can’t expect me to be privy to this.”

If Synick knew about the ritual then he had some relationship with the demon princes, which made him wonder ifthey knew who had the third brother’s ring. But he wouldn’t ask. It was too dangerous of information to even let Synick wonder about it.

“I didn’t ask you where they were, did I?” Hel let go of Synick’s greasy hair and wiped his hand on his black coat. Disgusting.