Page 38

This all felt too easy.

I’d been searching for ages, coming up empty-handed every time, and now, with a single lead, we were here following an address scribbled on a scrap piece of paper while trailing behind the fog-choked streets of England.

Beside me, Grace was clutching the note tightly to her chest, her eyes scanning the darkened streets after we’d parked somewhere far enough.

The streetlights here barely worked, casting only the faintest glow against the cracked sidewalks, and the factories around us looked deserted.

Fitting, I supposed, that places like this would house Riftkeeper’s.

A low building ahead of us emerged, its steel doors adorned with faded paint, leading to what appeared to be an abandoned factory.

I stopped in my tracks, putting an arm out to stop Grace as my eyes trained on the door.

People were trickling in—rough types, the kind who looked like they’d gone through a thing or two.

None of them hesitated either as they approached the camera by the door, and each one rolled up a sleeve or pulled back the collar of their shirts, flashing something at it.

I caught Grace’s eye, her gaze mirroring the same wariness I felt. “Remember what I said. Keep by my side at all times, yeah?”

She nodded, and together, we made our way to the door, the weight of everything riding on this filling my chest like iron.

As we got closer, I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the fresh, faintly pulsing brand. Grace followed suit, lifting her own sleeve to show off the mark I’d given her.

The camera whirred, a soft click breaking the silence as it scanned us both.

Then, just like that, the door unlocked, creaking open with an ominous groan.

We stepped inside, greeted by a dimly lit corridor that led down a narrow flight of stairs while the air was thick and stale, carrying a scent that was equal parts damp earth and metal.

Grace stayed close, her hand brushing against mine as we descended the stairs. I thought about holding her but opted out at the last second, knowing that wouldn’t look so good in front of psychotic bastards.

“Everything okay?” I asked, even though she was already glancing around, wide-eyed and quiet, taking in everything like she didn’t trust a single brick of the place.

She gave me a small nod, drawing in a deep breath. At the end of the corridor, a steel door waited, guarded by a guy who looked like he bench-pressed demons for fun. His beady eyes zeroed in on our brands, then flickered to our faces, lingering just a second too long on Grace.

I felt her shift closer to me—barely but enough. Instinct kicked in, and I tilted my head just slightly, locking eyes with him. No smile. No blink. Just a silent promise that if he so much as breathed wrong, he was done.

He must’ve gotten the message because, after a tense pause, he stepped aside with a grunt and a nod.

The reality of this place struck me immediately as we stepped inside.

It was darker and more twisted than anything I could have imagined.

Rows and rows of cages lined the walls, each one holding whom I assumed were Celestials.

Their faces were beaten, eyes hollowed while some Riftkeeper’s stood by cages, sneering as they poked them with makeshift weapons.

Others had actual Celestial weapons, shining dully in the dim light like they were trophies of their victories.

My stomach turned, and I fought the repeat of my fry-up from coming up my throat. Nearby, a crowd cheered as two Celestials were forced to fight each other, while around the corner, someone was using a red-hot iron to brand the Celestials with their Riftkeeper mark.

Hunter must have sensed my shock because he leaned into me and murmured, “You’re fine; don’t worry. Just stay close.”

I nodded, swallowing hard and trying to keep my expression neutral, but it was impossible to hide the horror twisting my guts into knots. Everywhere I looked, there was suffering, all orchestrated by people who seemed to take joy in it.

We pushed through the crowd, glancing at the cages as if, somehow, we’d find Aaron here among them. But with every step I took, believing a human could survive a place like this became that much harder.

A few Riftkeeper’s glanced suspiciously our way, but we kept moving, pretending we belonged when we didn’t. One man in particular—a tall figure with a scar across his cheek—watched me, his gaze unnervingly sharp as I forced myself to look away.

Then, just ahead, I saw it. Not Aaron but a cherub trapped in a small cage, his wings bound with barbed wire. A group of Riftkeeper’s stood around him, laughing as one of them poked at him with the end of a spear and taunted him with threats.

I took a step forward, instinct driving me to desperately help. Hunter quickly tugged me back, but it was too late; one of the sellers had spotted my reaction and grinned.

“You want this one?” he sneered at me. “A cherub’s fun for a while, but I’ll tell you what—I’ll get you an even better one if you kill this little prick.” He nodded toward the weakened cherub. “Go on.”

I froze, horrified, and my gaze flickered to Hunter. He shook his head at me right as the seller’s grin faltered. Hunter didn’t give me a chance to respond before he grabbed my arm and dragged me away. He steered us deeper into the crowd, brushing past a few young people and others much older.

I felt sick. Utterly sick.

The cherub’s frightened face was now etched into my brain, and I struggled to keep up with Hunter’s pace. The factory was a never-ending place; everywhere we turned, there was something going on. Torture, drinking, more torture and screams.

“Help me,” someone croaked from one of the cages; she was missing an eye and an arm. “Help me, please.”

I was helpless , blinking away tears as we went past her. Her working eye followed us in despair, and I turned to Hunter. “Why can’t they fight back?”

Hunter’s jaw tightened as he looked ahead, taking me through busy sections. “The cages are made out of something that weakens them.”

“And what’s that?”

“Umbra Alloy. It’s a dark metal that comes from hell itself and is a weakening substance to demons and any other Celestial being, including Ascendants.”

So, it was like kryptonite but for Celestials...

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “How would Riftkeeper’s be able to acquire something from hell?”

“The same way, they also have Celestial weapons. Some demons will provide it for them in hopes of something in return.”

I swallowed the acidic taste in my mouth. “Like protection?”

He didn’t give me a proper response right away, but eventually, he nodded before we passed another row of cages and came to a stumbling stop as a wiry man with beady eyes blocked our path.

His eyes went from Hunter’s to mine, making Hunter push me into a protective stance behind him. “I’ve never seen you two around here before,” the Riftkeeper said, the suspicion in his voice practically palpable.

Hunter kept his expression impassive. “We’re new,” he replied. “We’re just here to look around. See what there is to fuck around with.”

The Riftkeeper didn’t look convinced; in fact, he sized me up once more, almost like he saw something in me that he recognized. He tilted his head and made a whistling sound with his lips, summoning a few more Riftkeeper’s who were now closing in around us.

A glacial fear settled in my chest, its coldness pressing down until every breath felt like I was inhaling shards of ice.

Hunter looked over his shoulder at me. “Bambi?” His voice was so low that only I could hear it. “Duck.”

I didn’t need him to tell me again as I dropped to the floor without hesitation, and he sprang into action.

His fist connected with the nearest Riftkeeper, sending him stumbling backwards before he swiftly took a dagger from behind his waistband and used that to stab another.

Chaos erupted around us as Riftkeeper’s shouted, some lunging toward Hunter, others going for the prisoners.

I scrambled to my feet, dodging a Riftkeeper’s grasp as I tried to get back to Hunter. But bodies crowded around us, and before I knew it, I was shoved to the side, my vision blurring as I was pulled deeper into the crowd.

“Hunter!” I shouted, but my voice was swallowed by the uproar. Panic clawed at my throat as I fought my way through, desperate to get back to him, but everywhere I turned, there were more Riftkeeper’s, more cages and more eyes that looked all too eager to find out who or what I was.