Page 8 of Hellfire to Come (Infernal Regions for the Unprepared #5)

Chapter Eight

ALICE

My misery redoubled, every bone in my body aching as I blinked myself out of the nightmare’s hold. For a few seconds, I didn’t know what woke me.

Then I felt it.

It started with the shaking of the floor.

Just a little. Like someone had dropped something very heavy one level above me. Then again, louder. A boom that rattled the ceiling, dust drifting into my hair like a warning whisper, and the chain on my wrist twitching like it wanted out as badly as I did.

Then came the shrieks.

The screaming.

Not mine, for once. Definitely not mine.

I sat bolt upright on the cracked stone slab they so generously called a cot, heart thundering like it was sprinting for the exit without the rest of me. The chain clinked in protest, a macabre rhythm of pooling rusted metal at my feet.

That wasn’t the usual “ritual murder” ambiance the Council liked to provide.

What I was hearing was a fight.

Real combat.

Familiar chaos.

My mouth fell open before I could allow myself to hope. “No. Freaking. Way.”

Another boom echoed through the floor. Dust rained down in a puff, and one of the glowing wards in the far corner of the cell flickered. My chain shifted slightly looser.

Holy hell.

Brooklyn was here.

I could feel her. I didn’t know how, I didn’t know why but there was no mistaking the surge of heat along my spine, the sudden punch of comfort and sheer defiance.

She was pissed.

And she wasn’t alone.

“You beautiful, terrifying bitch,” I whispered, a cackle catching in my throat. My hand pressed to the center of my chest where the bond pulsed like a war drum. “I was hoping you wouldn’t but you actually came.”

And then I stood up so fast I immediately headbutted the low stone beam above the cot.

“OW…damn it!” I hissed, stumbling back and clutching my forehead. “Okay. Still a prisoner. Still stupid architecture.”

I blinked back stars and took in the cell again, really looked at it this time.

The room was barely six steps wide. The walls were damp, streaked with mildew, the stones weeping condensation that stank of rot and despair.

Old symbols glowed faintly in the corners, wards meant to suppress, to break down the will.

It was like being locked inside a dying memory.

Maybe that’s why I felt so depressed all the time.

No windows either. No sounds except for distant dripping water, groaning stone, and now the thunder of war.

I paced the length of my cage, every nerve on fire.

She was here. They were here. And I wasn’t about to just sit here waiting to be scooped up like a lost puppy.

Nope.

I was meeting them halfway.

Even if I had to chew through the damn chains.

The shackle flared again, sparks licking across my skin, and I flinched. The ward in the corner pulsed harder now from dim to bright, like a heartbeat. Like it knew what was coming.

I narrowed my eyes at it.

“Okay, magic rock light… you and me are gonna have a moment.”

It was now or never.

I’d been watching the witches, memorizing their movements, how their fingers danced when they cast spells, how they channeled energy through runes, how their faces went really pinched when they had to focus.

I didn’t have spells, not really. But if I could just fake it like I had faked everything else that worked so far…

I drew a shaky breath and held my palm up to the ward, closing my eyes.

A picture of Yoda came to mind when he used the force in the movie, and I burst out laughing with no control.

Okay, I was in shock and my brain was trying not to short-circuit by using humor.

Collecting myself was harder than I would’ve thought, but I wrangled my crazy down. My hand lifted toward the ward again.

Immediately, the image of Yoda popped into my brain again, and I snorted.

Because obviously, my mind would reach for Star Wars in a high-stakes magical jailbreak.

“Focus, dumbass,” I whispered to myself. “Loop. Flick. Spiral. Angry flick. You can totally do this because you are a badass bitch as well. Let’s get cracking.”

I mimicked the pattern I’d seen the youngest witch use, repeating silently in my head: loop, flick, spiral, angry flick. Then I added a dramatic chant for effect.

“By the crusty socks of chaos and the great hormonal rage of a PMSing woman during full moon, I banish you!”

…Nothing.

“Worth a try,” I muttered, scratching at my forehead. I was running out of ideas.

The chain sparked again, this time harder. My arms trembled with something, not pain, but potential, maybe? My skin lit up from the inside like it had before, that horrible glowing sensation returning all over my body.

Except now, it didn’t hurt.

Now, it felt right.

Mine.

I turned back to the glowing ward and with a running start slammed my palm flat against it.

“Let. Me. Out!” I shouted at it with everything in me.

The ward cracked loud enough to scare the hell out of me.

My eyes widened. “Well, hell.” Urgency made me reckless. I had to get out of here to help them a little.

I did it again. “LET ME OUT!” I screamed at the ward, my voice lost in all the noise coming from above me.

A bolt of light surged through the chain. It shattered with a shriek of metal and a burst of magic that tossed me straight on my ass. I slid across the room like a ragdoll and hit the back wall hard enough to see every childhood trauma flash before my eyes.

“Motherfucker! Why is it always the landing that sucks?!” Grunting, I rubbed the back of my skull while staring at the ceiling.

I was free.

Holy shit I was actually FREE!

I scrambled up, heart pounding like I’d just been reborn and screamed into the world with a middle finger raised.

I flipped off everything around me with gusto.

I grabbed a broken piece of stone and a rusted rod from the corner, my makeshift weaponry, because sure, why not channel some feral raccoon chic energy today.

I’d rescued a few of those back in the day and let me tell you, those mofos are vicious.

I cracked the door open slowly peeking gingerly at the hallway.

Empty.

Of course, it was.

I crept into the corridor, tension coiled in every step. It was worse out here, darker. Like the walls absorbed all sound and hope. Every stone whispered a different scream. The air tasted like rust and bad dreams.

And beneath it all… the fight raged.

Closer now. Boots. Growls. Magic splitting the air like thunderclaps.

Something hissed from around the corner, the sound prickling my skin.

I spun just in time to see a vampire—okay I should call it an Atua since Brooklyn was very peculiar about it.

But the fucker was pale, fast, and very not on our side since he was lunging at me.

My hands flew up instinctively, one to hold him back and the other to protect my neck.

I had no intention of being anyone’s’ juice box, thank you very much.

A pulse of energy shot from my palm and yeeted him into the opposite wall.

There was a meaty crunch and a small moment of silence where I stared at my glowing fingers and whispered, “Holy shit. I am the wand.” A manic cackle burst from my lips.

The creepy guy was a pile of very dead meat on the floor, and I wanted to be anywhere but near him when they found him.

Cackling like a madwoman, I bolted down the hallway.

Barefoot. Bleeding. Wild-eyed. I flung stolen magic like a toddler with paint.

Improvised like my life depended on it, which, fair point, it did.

At one point I shouted something in Latin-sounding gibberish and blasted a chandelier off the ceiling.

Not helpful. It looked cool, though. No one cared if I was screaming or laughing.

They couldn’t hear me from all the kickass happening not far from me.

Then I turned a corner and hit a wall of pure magic like a goddamn freight train.

I crashed backwards into a pile of urns used as decoration in the damn place. One broke over my head. Again.

“Okay. So... maybe magic requires aim. And finesse. And fewer concussions.”

But I was close.

I knew I was.

I could feel them, Brooklyn and Dominic, like bright stars in the storm guiding my way. Strong. Moving fast. Coming for me.

If I was discovered, I just had to hold on a little until my friends arrived.

I could do that.

I wasn’t alone.

Not anymore.

That gave me a burst of energy I didn’t know I had.

Gripping the iron rod, I pushed to my feet, determined, bloody, dizzy and laughing through my teeth.

“All right, assholes,” I growled at the empty hallway in front of me, lurching toward the next corridor. “Let’s play.”