Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
HANNAH
I get why Abaddon doesn’t want to do this, but I can’t shake the feeling that we have to at least try. And I mean really try—not just go through the motions.
Back home, I volunteered at animal shelters, and we had some seriously messed-up, aggressive dogs. But I’ve never been one to judge based on looks. None of us gets to pick what we’re born with, right?
It’s what’s inside that counts.
So I snatch the bullwhip from Abaddon’s grip and hurl it behind us as he activates the lights, which flicker to harsh life.
I study the corner I barely noticed during my panicked first visit. This time, I spot what I’d mistaken for a boulder—quick flashes of crimson eyes blinking back at me.
Thing is awake and aware, as he probably was before. Romulus and Remus remain chained where I last saw them, but they still unnerve me.
I’ll focus on one creature at a time. The fur Abaddon provided covers me as I hold it around myself like an oversized bath towel.
I hum softly as I enter and kneel on the filthy floor before Thing, doing my best to ignore the overwhelming stench.
“Not so close,” Abaddon hisses beside me.
I wave him off. I have my own approach. If I lose a hand, that’ll be part of the learning process. I suspect Abaddon will intervene before allowing that, but I refuse to assume these beings are mindless killing machines.
How could they be anything else when nobody’s ever given them a real shot?
So I move closer to Thing, holding out my hand palm-up so he can get used to my smell.
“Hey there.” I keep my voice super gentle. “Abaddon thinks you’re gonna hurt me, but I’m thinking maybe we could try something different. How about we just get to know each other today? Sound good?”
Thing raises his head slowly, blinking those brilliant red eyes. His shoulders shift as he rises from his crouch.
I breathe steadily as the first set of human-like arms emerges from the shadows, then another, then the third. He supports himself on hardened knuckles with the lowest pair like a great ape, moving incrementally closer.
He’s absolutely gross from head to toe, and his claws have grown out so long they look like freaking daggers.
When Thing gets close enough that his chains go tight against the wall, he hisses, and I can see these crazy sharp fangs.
I push down my fear and take another breath, making myself smile. “You’re pretty scary, huh? You and your brothers? That’s cool. I still want to get to know you.”
Another hiss greets my words, and Thing shifts restlessly back and forth within his chain’s reach. But those red eyes never leave mine.
“My name is Hannah,” I say, slowly touching my chest. “I’d like to be your friend. Do you have a name? Can you speak?”
He retreats slightly, his head moving with agitation, a tangle of matted black hair falling across his eyes.
“Looks like nobody’s brushed your hair in forever. Maybe I could help with that sometime,” I say. “I live here now, too. I’m Abaddon’s...”
“Con-sort,” the creature says in this rough voice, and I get so excited. He actually talked to me! I spin around to grin at Abaddon, who’s giving me the stink eye.
I ignore his attitude and turn back to Thing. “Yep, exactly!”
I smile at him but make sure not to stare him down—don’t want to start anything. “I’m Abaddon’s consort. He calls me Hannah-consort sometimes.” I laugh a little, and Thing jumps at the sound.
“Oops, sorry.” I cover my mouth real quick.
One of his hands mirrors the gesture, covering his own mouth. It’s endearing.
He reminds me of some of the pit bulls we’d get at the shelter—totally scary-looking but actually sweethearts once you got past the tough exterior. All bark, no bite. Well, unless you really pissed them off.
“I’m hoping I can come hang out with you every day,” I tell him. “Get to know you better. We can go super slow, whatever works for you. Can I ask you something, though? Do you actually like being stuck down here?”
This elicits a strong reaction. He snorts loudly and shakes his head emphatically. A definitive refusal. My heart aches for him. Of course he despises this place. How long has he been imprisoned? He’s clearly intelligent, locked away in this dark, squalid cell.
“I understand,” I say gently. “Abaddon worries you can’t control your impulses.”
At Abaddon’s name, Thing’s head snaps up, and he releases a furious growl. Abaddon roars back and cracks his whip menacingly. I can’t believe he grabbed it again!
This sends Thing into a frenzy. I barely manage to scuttle backward as he charges forward, only to be jerked brutally short by his restraints. Abaddon’s whip strikes his bicep, drawing blood and eliciting an agonized howl.
“Abaddon!” I cry out in horror.
“Leave!” Abaddon bellows. “I warned you this was futile!”
Cackling laughter echoes from the rear wall as Remus awakens.
“Oh, the pretty consort has a soft heart.” His head has rotated unnaturally, revealing a maniacal grin beneath stringy, filthy hair.
His tail rises behind him like a serpent.
I hadn’t realized he could speak. “Perhaps you should let me play with her, brother.”
I grimace and back toward the exit.
Thing snarls and lunges at Abaddon from his chains, prompting another vicious crack of the whip.
“Stop!” I shout at Abaddon, who stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. Between Remus’s cackling and Thing’s constant struggling against his bonds, the situation is deteriorating rapidly. I head for the stairs.
Abaddon follows, slamming the dungeon door and sliding the iron bars back into place. I climb to the main floor, pausing in the foyer to collect myself.
“Are you satisfied now?” Abaddon growls when he reaches my side. “I told you it was hopeless.”
I turn on him with my mouth open. “Are you kidding me? You totally provoked them.” I throw my hands out. “And who wouldn’t be goaded with you whacking them with that damn whip thing every other second. You made Thing bleed!”
Abaddon looks astonished. “He’s a monster! He was about to attack you.”
“We were having a perfectly nice conversation before you inserted yourself.”
“Nice conversat—He said one word to you.”
“How many does he usually say to you?” I cock my head.
Abaddon’s silent.
I exhale furiously. “You saw him shake his head. He hates it down there. Of course he does. He’s a thinking, feeling being. And you’ve got him locked up in the dark. It’s atrocious. I can’t believe you, of all people, would lock your own brother up like that!”
“Me, of all people?” he growls, then moves into my space, backing me up against the wall. “Why? Because I’m a monster, too?”
I look up into his intimidating features and his frankly barbaric behavior. I place my hands on my hips, refusing to be cowed.
“Yes,” I say right into his lion’s face. “Exactly that. And because I’ve seen the whip marks on your own back underneath your wings.”
He roars and spins away from me.
Then he launches himself through the window and takes flight.
“Fine!” I shout after him, gripping the window ledge for balance. “Just fly away instead of discussing this like adults! Real mature!”
Once he’s gone, guilt immediately floods through me, and my shoulders deflate. Obviously, mentioning his torture is a sensitive subject. It must have been inflicted by their father, who was clearly an abusive monster. No wonder Abaddon thinks violence is the only method that works.
I sigh heavily, overwhelmed with sadness. Despite everything, Abaddon isn’t like his father. He might have learned those methods, but with me he’s been... well, not gentle exactly, but never cruel.
I glance back toward the dark stairwell.
He can learn there’s a better way.
Maybe there’s a reason I was brought to this damaged family. Perhaps there are more miracles to be discovered here than just my physical healing. Maybe, just maybe, I can bring some emotional healing, too?
I sigh again.
Or maybe nothing so lofty as that will happen if there’s been so much damage and trauma done here.
But I do know that even the biggest projects start one step at a time.
So I take the stairs to the kitchen, fill up two big buckets, and head back down to the dungeon.