Chapter 8 There’s an App for That
There’s an App for That
Adamantine cuffs bit into the skin around my wrists, and my head pounded with a dull ache. All my muscles were sore, and my stomach revolted with hunger.
A strong herbal smoke hung heavy in the air, making it difficult to breathe properly, like my lungs refused to expand.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
I looked up from my position against a cinder block wall to where Morgana stood, that damned crow familiar smirking at me from a perch in the corner.
A cauldron simmered from a camping stove on a work bench, and the floating shelves along the walls were filled to the brim with jars and boxes containing all manner of dried plants, animal parts, and who knew what else.
Fucking witches.
My throat felt dry, and I had to peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth to speak. “How long have I been here?”
She shrugged. “When does your deal run out?”
The crow shook out its wings and settled into its spot again, and I took another look around the room.
Small windows, too small for me to crawl through, were located near the ceiling made of exposed beams. A lone light bulb hung over the table, the fire from the stove the only other light in the room.
We were in a basement somewhere. I didn’t think we were still in Sage’s house, though. Even with the pungent smoke, I couldn’t detect any of her lingering scent. I was almost amazed that I was that attuned to her by now. I’d never had that happen with my previous bounties.
The cuffs behind me were wrapped around a floor to ceiling pole, and a few cursory tugs told me it was sturdy.
“I had three days left when I showed up at the house,” I lied. “I take it that means you plan to keep me here until the contract ends and I die?”
The corner of her lips curled into a dark smile as she took a pinch of something from one of her jars, adding it to the cauldron. The concoction hissed. “Quick one, aren’t you?”
“And you’re okay with that?” I asked. I needed to keep her talking.
She barked a laugh as she stirred. “I’m more than okay with that, Ronan Blackthorne.
” She spat my last name like she knew who I really was.
After putting down the spoon, she finally turned to face me directly, putting a hand on her hip.
“And if it makes you feel any better, I’m doing my best to ease your suffering.
This sleeping draught will knock you out completely for the last day, so you won’t even feel it happening.
Because I can only imagine how painful it’s going to be. ”
Last day? Fuck, that meant she’d had me for two days already. How could I have let myself get so careless? I only had three days left now, my fragmented soul yelling at me to hurry up.
Because she wasn’t wrong about the pain I was in for if I didn’t find a way out of here. I’d seen a demon lose a deal once when I was a child, and sometimes I could still hear his screams as he died.
“Aren’t you generous,” I joked. “I didn’t realize you had such a soft heart for me considering all the times I’ve beat you.”
Her shoulders tensed. “Look, I can see the benefits bounty hunters provide. Some truly despicable people are able to hide under extradition protections that should be brought to justice.”
She came closer, crouching in front of me.
“The problem with the system, though, is that anybody with enough money can hire you, and you don’t do enough work to vet the clients or the jobs.
That means innocent people like Sage get hunted down and brought back to their abusers, and you don’t even care.
I mean, you’re arrogant enough to even put your soul on the line—that’s how sure you are you’re doing the right thing. ”
“In my defense,” I started, shifting on the floor. This wasn’t the most comfortable position to be sitting in, and the adamantine cuffs were a bitch. “It’s the handler who vets the clients, not me. And besides, are you telling me we should know better than to accept a job from a fucking Premier?”
She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head in disappointment. “Is that what you tell yourself to help you sleep at night? Or is it the lack of soul that does it?”
I released a long, heavy breath, the smoke from her potion making me cough slightly. “Honestly, I’ve been sleeping like shit recently, but thanks for asking.”
Rolling her eyes, she stood back up. “It’s just as well. Soon you won’t be burdened with such a heavy toll anymore, hm? I wonder—if a demon from Ignareth dies in Cindralis, but his soul is in Noctis, which god welcomes him in the afterlife?”
“I didn’t take you for one of the devout, Morgana.”
A wispy tendril escaped my hand, snaking along the darkened corners of the room.
“Hardly,” she snorted. “After knowing what happened to Sage, it’s hard to believe the gods could have ever existed.”
I needed to keep a level head as I steered my power around the room, but every mention of what Sage had gone through stirred a deep-seated, inexplicable need in my gut for retribution.
I mean, I wasn’t a psychopath, and I certainly wasn’t so apathetic that I couldn’t see where Morgana was coming from.
Maybe I had been too eager, runic signs flashing in my eyes as I happily signed away my soul to get these jobs done without ever thinking who was the real victim.
“Even if you let my deal run out,” I said, trying to keep her distracted, “he’s just going to hire somebody else. For the amount of money he’s offering, I bet half of Lundaria would be willing to hand her over.”
Her eyes shifted towards me. “Perhaps. But I have a feeling he’s got a countdown of his own that will be ending soon. And then Sage will truly be free.”
I growled, low and deep in my chest. “Look, if you’re going to let me die anyway, just tell me the truth about what happened.”
She whipped her head around. “Do you think you’re in any position to be making demands right now? Besides, isn’t that the point of being a bounty hunter? You get hired, and you don’t ask questions. Why should it be up to me to satisfy your sudden curiosity?”
I watched through the periphery of my vision as the tendril slithered up the corner of the wall right by the perch, where her familiar watched our exchange.
“Because I agree with you. I’m not a terrible person—most of the people I catch are crooks, through and through.
And I don’t feel an ounce of guilt bringing murderers and thieves to justice.
But I knew the moment I started looking for Sage that something didn’t smell right with this case, and unfortunately by then I’d already signed away my soul.
So at least let me die knowing I was right. ”
My tendril was poised and ready, waiting for her reveal.
But she just laughed. “I told you, demon. It’s not my story to tell.”
I was starting to get pissed, but then my shoulders relaxed. “You spelled yourself, didn’t you? So that you couldn’t say.”
She winked as she picked up the spoon, pointing it at me. “Exactly.”
That was smart. Too bad it wouldn’t save her or Sage, though.
“Well, is that sleeping draught finally finished at least? I’d like to just get this over with.”
She waved the pungent cloud towards her nose and breathed in deeply. “Yes, it’s ready now.”
“Perfect.”
The tendril struck, and the crow shifted back into a large man. “Subdue her.”
The familiar pounced, and after a brief struggle, he quickly overpowered her.
“How dare you?” she hissed. “The bond between a familiar and a witch—”
“Is sacred, yeah, yeah, yeah. Well then, why didn’t you protect him from possession too?” I asked, pointing to the anti-demon symbol tattooed on her sternum. The horned image of Ravaric was surrounded by six orbs of different colors, representing the other Lundarian gods.
She spat on the ground, the familiar’s grip on her tightening. “Tattoos don’t work on familiars—they disappear whenever they shift!”
I pursed my lips in surprise. “Huh, didn’t know that. Thanks for the tidbit, I’m sure it will come in handy at Trivia Night. In any case, tie her up.”
The crow familiar nodded, grabbing some rope from the corner and forcing her down on a chair, bringing her arms around her back and knotting them together tightly.
“You still won’t find her,” Morgana said. “I don’t care how many days you have left, she’s so far gone you’ll be dead before—”
“Ugh, enough. I get it.”
I ordered my new vessel to find the key to my cuffs and unlock them, and then turned right around and put him in them right where I was. I double checked Morgana’s restraints, and then poured some of the sleeping draught into a few empty vials I found on the table.
I gave the familiar his dose, and once he was out, I withdrew my tendril and then turned towards Morgana.
“I’m not going to force you to take this. If you want to stay awake this whole time with nothing to do but watch your familiar sleep, be my guest.”
She looked at me, her voice dripping with vitriol. “Her blood is on your hands, demon. You may be happy now, but once you learn what he’s really done to her, you’re going to wish you’d died here instead.”
She might be right, but no matter what, I needed to find that out on my own. “Is that a yes, then?”
Morgana opened her mouth like a petulant child being forced to take their medicine, and I poured the dose inside. Within seconds she was out, her body limp and her head leaning forward.
I slapped her lightly a few times just to be sure, and then found my way to the stairs and went up.
We definitely weren’t in the Hexwood’s house any longer, but it didn’t look like we were too far away. She must have been scoping the place out in case someone like me came by.
I found my phone, wallet, and car keys on a table in the living room and went outside. It was ten p.m., and despite the sleeping draught I’d just woken up from, I was still exhausted. And wired, strangely enough.
And too fucking horny.