Page 149 of As Above, So Below

Netharis snaps his fingers and I’m engulfed in hellfire as my own scream deafens me.

CHAPTER THIRTY

My eyes flyopen and I bolt upright with a gasp.

A sharp, stabbing pain rips through me, causing me to collapse in sobs. Clutching my side, breathing ragged and shallow, the tears flow hot down my cheeks.

I lie there, as still as possible, doing my best to breathe through the pain. Blinking through the brightness of the sunlight that pours into the room, my muscles begin to relax as the pain subsides.

I refuse to move.

Instead, the room comes into focus as my eyes adjust to the light.

I notice several things at once.

First, I’m disgustingly soaked in sweat. It’s as if I’ve run for miles in the hot sun. Second, I’m in Ryc’s bedroom. Again. Third, despite the pain, the darkness I’ve carried with me feels lighter. Not by much, but enough to notice. Last, and likely the most important, I should have awoken in the hells.

I should be dead.

My eyes drift to the foot of the bed where a small pile of folded clothing and a towel rest. I definitely need a bath or shower. Just from the quick glance of my hands and arms, I’m covered in dried blood, both red from the harpies and the silver of my own, and tacky with sweat.

I don’t just feel disgusting, Iamdisgusting.

Drawing in as deep a breath as I dare to manage, my upright ascent is slow and painful. Grimacing against the pain, my feet slide to the floor, the cool of the lacquered wood a welcome sensationupon the soles of my bare feet, but I remain seated. Waiting for the energy to push myself from the bed, the door behind me opens.

A wave of relief that isn’t my own washes over me as I toss a glance over my shoulder. It’s Ryc’s, coming through our channel like a much needed breath of cool air.

The intensity of his relief takes me by surprise.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. His voice is quiet and reserved.

Honestly? Like death.

I stare at the floor, considering my answer.

“I’m fine.” My voice is hoarse, betraying my statement.

My own screams echo in my head. Flashes of Cora, of harpies, of blood, of Kassil…

The soft footfalls of Ryc’s approach pull me from the thoughts. He wants me to hear him, fae move silently otherwise. Such a small kindness I would have never considered. As I continue to stare at my feet, he moves around the bed to sit beside me. His weight bows the mattress, my left side pressing into him.

“You had me worried, little demon,” he says, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. “You had everyone worried.”

My shame consumes me, twisting my stomach and clenching my heart. I scoff and shake my head.

“You should have let me die,” I whisper.

“I’m not going to do that,” Ryc responds, his voice quiet, gentle and I can feel his eyes on me. He folds his hands in his lap.

“He’s dead.” It isn’t a question coming from me.

“Yes.”

Slowly, I nod.

“Lilith found the contract, but it burst into hellfire shortly after. Ashes remain.”

“Good.” My lip curls as I recall Netharis’ signature on the line. “Have Eve burn its ashes with hellfire.”