Chapter 30 - Malachi
Malachi
“There,” I snarl, slamming the scalpel and that stupid fucking rattle onto Serena’s desk. “We held up our end of the bargain.”
Serena raises a single eyebrow, unimpressed, as she pries her ugly infant’s wet fist away from her face.
Wordlessly, she scoops the silver rattle off the desk and carries the leech over to a bassinet in the corner.
She hands the thing the rattle. It grasps the handle, shakes it once, and a pulse of grey mist ripples out.
The creature’s mouth opens to wail, but no sound comes out.
Its vocal cords paralyze instantly, blissful, heavy silence flooding the room.
Serena sags against the wall, closing her eyes for a long, luxurious second. “Oh, sweet darkness,” she breathes. “That is worth its weight in souls.”
She pushes off the wall and walks back to the desk, her gaze sharpening as she looks between me and my little summoner. She picks up the scalpel, testing the edge against her thumb, a bead of blood welling up instantly.
“You are sure you want to do this, Malachi?” she asks.
I look down to Eden—my beautiful wreck. She’s coated in the ash of the Slag Heaps, leaning on Chain-Chewer, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath from practically sprinting all the way here.
The answer should be immediate. It should be a relief to cut her loose and return to my efficient, albeit boring, existence.
But the words stick to the roof of my mouth like bone shards.
I have become... accustomed to her. I like the way she looks at me, not with the terror of a victim like she did when I first burst through that Veil, but with someone who—dare I think it—actually enjoys my company.
I want to take her back to my bed. I want to clean crap of the market off her skin, wrap her in silken sheets, and watch her sleep without a single threat hanging over her head.
But today was a warning. No—it’s all been a warning. She’s soft, breakable matter, and as long as she’s tied to me, she’s a target. If I keep her, I risk killing her. It’s that simple.
I run the tip of my tongue over a fang, letting the point dig in enough to force the sentiment down into the dark where it belongs.
“Yes,” I lie. “It needs to be done. She is a liability here. She needs to go back to her own realm before something permanently breaks her.”
With a nod, she raises an ink-stained hand and begins to draw in the air.
Those two familiar cords—one pulsing red, the other a void-like black—stretch outwards from our chests, tangling together in the space between us.
A perfect knot of soul and sinew. A blood-bind never asked for, but undeniable in its raw, terrible beauty.
And about to be severed.
“Is it...” Eden’s voice trembles, small and terrified. “Is it going to hurt?”
Serena doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”
I shoot her a glare that would usually terrify a lesser being, my jaw tightening until my teeth ache. But I can’t disagree. It’s probably going to hurt like an absolute motherfucker.
Eden starts hyperventilating, her pupils blown wide, terror radiating off her in waves so potent I can taste it on my tongue. It’s going to make me vomit all over Serena’s parchment riddled floor in turn.
“Look at me,” I command, sliding my hands up to cup her face, my thumbs sweeping over the terrified pulse fluttering in her jaw.
“I’m scared,” she whispers, a tear slipping past my thumb.
“It’ll just be pressure, baby girl,” I lie. “Just pressure.”
Behind us, Chain-Chewer’s making a mess as he paces a restless circle around the cramped office space, his massive claws clicking against the floor like ticking clocks. A low, subterranean growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating through the soles of my boots.
I lean down, closing the distance until I’m all Eden can see, blocking out as much as I can.
“You’re fine,” I murmur against her mouth. “I’ve got you. Nothing is going to happen to you while I’m standing here. Do you understand?”
I press my lips to hers and kiss her like we have all the time in the universe. It’s soft, a deliberate counterweight to the violence in the room, my thumb stroking the curve of her cheekbone to ground her.
Then, Serena clears her throat. Loudly.
I suck in a deep breath, the loss of contact stinging as I step back, nodding once to her.
Get on with it.
Serena lifts the scalpel, her eyes fixed on the pulsing knot of cords between us, and she begins to mutter something under her breath in a low chant that makes the shadows in the room lean in to listen.
The air grows thick, and my skin prickles, the hairs on my arms standing on end as the blade lowers, inch by agonizing inch toward the tether.
Eden squeezes her eyes shut. I brace myself for the snap. The severance. The scream.
Instead, the universe explodes.
With a deafening boom, the door to Serena’s office disintegrates, blasted off its hinges with a force that sends splinters of wood raining down like confetti.
Chain-Chewer roars, a sound of pure tectonic violence, but it’s drowned out by the wet, slapping sound of naked feet hitting the floorboards.
“Compliance! Down on the ground! Now!”
I spin, shoving Eden behind me so fast she yelps.
The Compliance Wardens pour into the room like a spilled bucket of raw, glistening chum—translucent pink flesh slick with a foul, sun-rotted mucus.
They move with insectoid speed, their segmented torsos clicking as they fan out in a tactical breach formation.
Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck.
That is a lot of pink flesh. And a lot of pincers.
With a flick of Serena’s wrist, the cords disappear, and she chucks the stolen, highly illegal scalpel across the room into a pile of dusty scrolls before backing away, putting her body between the door and the bassinet where her silent infant’s laying, shaking the rattle at the ceiling.
“Target identified!” One of them gurgles, its voice sounding like it’s bubbling up through a throat full of slime as its black, bead-like eyes swivel maniacally toward me.
I take a breath and raise my hands slowly, palms open, elbows loose.
“Now, now, gentlemen,” I drawl, stepping forward just enough to draw their attention away from Eden. “What’s all this about? A bit aggressive for such a lovely day, isn’t it?”
The head Warden—distinguishable only by the extra layer of mucus coating his carapace—steps forward.
“Malachi Aurelian Virezeal,” he burbles. “You are under arrest.”
“Oh, am I now?” I ask lightly, arching a brow and tilting my head. “And may I ask why?”
“Crossing to the mortal realm with no authorization or mortal-safe shell. Failure to return upon the ending of a grace period. Unauthorized trans-dimensional transport of a mortal. And the murder of a Grade-4 Warden in the Mortal Realm.”
Ah. Right. That.
I wince internally. It sounds so much worse when they yell it like that. Well, at least I’m not under arrest for killing the Harvester in the back alley too. Every cloud.
“Murder is a strong word,” I correct smoothly. “I’d call it an aggressive personnel dispute. Your colleague tried to kill my... associate. I simply filed a very physical complaint.”
“Silence!” The creature snaps. “Surrender immediately, or we are authorized to use lethal force to take you.”
Eden’s hands clutch onto my waist, her fingers digging so hard into my obliques that I know she’s going to leave bruises.
“Lethal force,” I repeat, dropping the charm just a fraction. “Seems excessive, don’t you think? May I ask how you found me?”
“Transit surveillance. Sector 4, by the Slag Heaps.”
Fuck.
Amateur hour. I’m losing my touch.
My mind races, flipping through the mental Rolodex of escape plans.
Option A: The door. Currently barricaded by a wall of angry, pulsating shellfish.
Option B: The window. A lovely architectural feature that offers a breathtaking drop into the Silken District below. We’d be a smear on the concrete before we could even scream.
Option C: Talk my way out of it.
Option D…
“Comply!” the Warden shrieks, the others clicking their mandibles in a cacophony of wet, hungry anticipation.
I sigh heavily. I really didn’t want to get goo on my boots.
“Chain-Chewer,” I say softly. “Kill.”
The Hellhound launches himself across the room in a blur of magma-laced rock and teeth, slamming into the head Warden with the force of a freight train.
There is a sickening crunch, followed immediately by a high-pitched, gurgling squeal. Chain-Chewer thrashes his head, ripping the Warden’s arm clean off its socket. He tosses the limb aside and lunges for the throat of the next one.
“Come on,” I roar over the sound of tearing chitin, my hand clamping around Eden’s wrist with a grip like iron. I yank her toward the door, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Baby girl, we have to go. Now.”
She digs her heels in, stumbling as I drag her past a decapitated Warden.
“But what about the bind?!” she screams, her eyes wide and wild. “We didn’t cut it! Malachi, it’s still there! What are we going to do?!”
“Fuck! I don’t know, Eden!” I snap, the words tearing out of my throat raw and ugly. I spin on her, my composure finally shattering under the sheer weight of this disaster. “I don’t fucking know! I don’t have a plan for ‘Ambushed by the Shrimp Squad,’ okay? Just move your feet!”
I shove Eden through the shattered doorway and into the damp, echoing gloom of the stairwell, not waiting to hear if Serena’s screaming at me about a cleaning bill or if she’s too busy wiping guts off her silenced infant.
We hit the ground floor landing, the metal fire door looming ahead like a beacon of hope. Just one push and we’re out on the street, lost in the crowd, free to regroup and find another illegal back-alley surgeon to fix this mess.
I slam my shoulder into the crash bar, but it doesn’t budge, so I shove it again, harder.
Three more Wardens drop from the stairwell, landing in a perfect semi-circle around us, blocking the ascent. Simultaneously, the fire door melts, dissolving into a curtain of shimmering energy, revealing a row of four more Wardens standing in the alleyway.
Eden presses her back against my chest, her breath hitching into short, sharp sobs. “What do we do?”
If I fight, I can take maybe three of them. Four on a good day. But there are seven. And in the crossfire... she’s dead.
Two of them rush me instantly, slamming me face-first into the cold concrete wall. My cheekbone cracks against the rough surface, stars exploding in my vision.
“Malachi!” Eden screams.
I hear a scuffle, the sound of her struggling, and then a sharp gasp of pain.
“Don't you fucking touch her!” I roar, struggling against the weight of the pricks pinning me. “She’s fragile! You snap one bone, and I will dismantle you segment by wet, pulsing segment!”
Something cold and metallic snaps around my wrists and they haul me up, spinning me around, only to be faced with Eden. Two Wardens have her by the arms, lifting her feet off the ground. She’s kicking, crying, her face wet with tears, looking at me with absolute devastation.
“Take the Asset to Veraxia,” he gurgles. “Dispose of the mortal.”
My blood crystallises to ice.
“No!” I roar, thrashing against the cuffs. “Eden! Run!”
One of the Wardens raises a serrated pincer over her head, the muscle in its arm bunching like a coiled spring. It’s going to take her head off.
“Wait!” Eden shrieks. “You can’t! We’re blood-bound!”
The pincer pauses, hovering inches from her neck. “Completely irrelevant.”
““It’s not a normal bind! It’s uh… it’s a sym… Symbiotic Lock!” she babbles, the lies spilling out of her in a desperate torrent, shaking so hard her teeth are chattering.
It’s a fucking what?
“If you kill me, the backlash hits him!” she blurts. “You'll bring him back brain-dead!”
He hesitates. “Asset integrity is secondary to retrieval.”
“Is it?” she challenges, her voice trembling but gaining a sharp, vicious edge. “You want him for Veraxia, right? She wants him to suffer for what he did? He can't suffer if he can’t even feel! Do you want to explain to her why she won’t even be able to punish him?”
I sag in the grip of my captors, blinking hard against the blood dripping into my eye.
Clever girl. You beautiful, clever fucking girl.
“Pause execution,” the Warden decides, lowering his claw. “The Asset must be cognizant for sentencing.”
My knees almost buckle under the sheer relief.
“Transport both,” it gurgles. “Containment protocols active.”
A reeking sack is shoved over my head, plunging me into immediate, suffocating darkness. I feel the pincers of the Wardens locking onto my arms, dragging me back, but I’m straining my ears, desperate for the sound of her.
“No! Please!” Eden cries out. “Don't hit me! Please, don't hit me!”
I roar, thrashing against the iron, ready to tear this entire dimension apart to get to the prick who has her screaming like that.
“I will kill you!” I bellow into the hood. “I will—”
Then a heavy blow connects with my temple, and the world goes dark.