Chapter 3
Ash
Torture was so damn boring.
The low-level mage under my boot twitched like he still had a chance. He tried to dig his nails into my leg — bad idea. I liked pain.
Sucked to be him.
His skin was already a mess of blood and bruises from the beating K had given him. Dev was nearby, licking one of his knives like he was tasting the air.
Fucking boring.
There was no challenge in this anymore. No thrill. Just noise, and begging, and the same damn outcome every time.
I liked it better when I was allowed to work my magic. You know, take their air, choke them, throw them around against a couple of trees.
Or better, I could throw them up in the air and watch them try to fly.
Fuck that’s cool.
But K was such a stickler these days.
We don’t want to kill everyone, Ash.
Blah blah blah.
Plus the stupid dampeners that had us all on made my magic less impactful.
Dicks.
Instead I’m just fucking beating them. Slap. Punch. Kick.
I pulled out my phone and began scrolling while my foot pressed into Eddie’s neck.
Fucker should have kept his hands to himself.
I dug my foot in farther then pulled up a video of a bear chasing a man down a mountain.
“Classic.” I laughed.
“If you’re getting bored I can take over.” Dev stepped forward and crouched by Eddie’s sodden trousers, already dark with piss. They were half-done — dickless here had tried to yank them up in a hurry.
Bitch pissed himself. Now that’s funny.
“You dirty bastard, Eds,” I said, and drove my boot into him again.
Molly’s crying scraped the air from the corner — thin, small, useless. It only made the room feel louder.
K had taken one look at the bruises on her pathetic face and we knew what had happened.
“Cut his dick off,” I grinned at Dev.
Dev smirked, flicking his dagger between his fingers.
Eddie had gone white. “I’m sorry, ok? I thought she wanted it. I’m sorry!” he rasped out.
I knelt over him and grabbed his face tightly in my hands.
“You know what I hate? Rapists. They’re pieces of shit. Say it. Say ‘I’m a piece of shit, Ash.’”
“I’m a piece of shit.”
“And a rapist.”
“And a fucking rapist! Now please! Let me go!”
K stepped up and stood over all of us.
Fuck K was a scary bastard. He was 6 foot 5, with muscles everywhere, his hair cropped short. Those eyes, if you caught that look in his eyes. You were dead.
No fucking question.
That’s why I liked him so much.
“I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson very well at all today Eddie.” He said pleasantly. “Tell me, what happened to Kate the other day?”
Eddie started sobbing. “I’m sorry. I don’t know – I’m sorry!” He was blubbering everywhere.
It was getting on my feet.
“Ew, fucking gross.” I kicked his nose, drawing blood. I wiped my foot on his shirt.
“You’re sorry? Well, so am I. Because ‘sorry’ doesn’t really cut it around here. You were warned weren’t you?” K’s voice still held that pleasant tone.
“Yes,” Eddie sobbed.
“And you didn’t listen did you?” he shook his head as if disappointed.
“K, please. Please.”
K reached out and slapped his face. “Be a man about this Eddie. Have some dignity, yeah?”
“K…”
K nodded to Dev who grinned like Christmas had come early.
“I’m going to enjoy this.” Dev said.
The screams, oh the screams.
Music to my ears.
Finally—something interesting.
I let my gift slip free, a lazy twist of air that spun through the room.
The sound of pain broke apart, carried away by the wind until nothing but a faint hum was left.
Wouldn’t want the guards getting curious.
Not that they cared. They let us do whatever the hell we wanted, as long as it didn’t spill into the corridors.
But when my own wind curled back toward me, it brought a scent.
Vanilla. Cinnamon. Smoke.
It hit like a drug. Sweet and sharp and wrong.
My grin faded.
“What the fuck is that?” I muttered.
The air shimmered, just faintly. The scent lingered, threading through blood and iron and rot like something clean.
Dev didn’t notice. He was still crouched in the mess, humming to himself as he painted pictures with the blood on the concrete.
A small symbol – nothing too ostentatious.
Just something to let people know justice was being done.
Eddie was hyperventilating, staring at the blood pooling around him. K nodded
“Take him,” K ordered one of the nearby kids.
The boy didn’t make eye contact. He just moved.
And so did I.
“Where the hell are you going?” Dev called, wiping his knives.
I didn’t answer. I just ran.
The corridors blurred as I tore toward the main building. The guards by the entrance tensed, hands twitching toward their weapons — waiting for me to snap again.
They’d be fine.
If they left me alone.
The scent was stronger here — sweet and burning, the kind that made the air vibrate in my lungs. It pulled me upward.
I hit the stairs two at a time. By the third landing, I’d picked up shadows — three guards, maybe four.
I laughed, loud.
Then turned and hit the closest one square in the chest, sending him sailing over the rail. His scream echoed all the way down.
“Oops,” I grinned.
The others backed off, shouting for backup. I didn’t slow. No one was keeping me from whatever this was.
Because it was mine.
Or it would be.
Another dart whizzed past my head — tranq. Amateur. I ducked and kept running, still laughing.
When I reached the witches’ floor, Bitchface Lyra and her franken-guard Ivan were waiting outside. They froze when they saw me.
“Ash. What are you doing?” Lyra demanded.
I ignored her. “What’s in there?”
“None of your business. Go downstairs,” Ivan barked.
“Nah. Don’t wanna.”
“Ash!”
Two guards lunged at me from behind. I whooped as they landed on my back — two? Pathetic. I threw one over my shoulder; he hit the wall hard. The other grabbed my arm, and Ivan stepped in, trying to drag me away.
So I punched him in the mouth and kicked the other guard free.
And then — the door opened.
She stepped into view.
Beautiful.
Eyes like midnight, framed by lashes too golden for this place. Silver hair. A mouth that should’ve been illegal. Her clothes were baggy, hiding her shape, but I didn’t care.
I was done for.
“There you are,” I breathed, grinning.
A taser slammed into my back.
White pain.
Then nothing.