Chapter Twenty-Four
Sage
Pain. It overrides everything else happening around me—and that isn’t because of the knife wound in my kidney.
The sharp stabbing feeling of my body healing itself, stitching itself back together, was nothing compared to the sight of Hack’s pale skin, to the blood coating the floor around his crumpled form.
That image will stay with me forever.
Slash found me in the apartment building—full of charred bodies—draped over Hack and screaming.
I don’t really know what happened after that.
I either blacked out or he knocked me out.
So I’m now lying beside my chosen in a bedroom that belongs to the king of demons, my palm pressed against his chest so I can feel his heartbeat. It’s slower than usual, but it’s there.
It’s been a whole two days and he still hasn’t woken, the wound still needing to be regularly cleaned with some kind of elixir that apparently only Samhain has access to.
Although, his ownership of said elixir is to be kept strictly under wraps because he stole it from a stupid fucking angel five-hundred years ago—his words.
The blade that sliced Hack was laced with itherium, which is healable with Drakethorne Volcano Dust, but the fact that it was on angel steel makes it doubly lethal to demons. My demon, in particular.
If I hadn’t already killed every fucker in that building, I’d do it again.
And again, and again. I’m well aware that it’s wrong to kill people, but these aren’t people.
They’re kyn. Death and destruction is the way they deal with conflict, so after just over a week into being one of them, I’m embracing my nature.
I’m beneath the covers with Hack, my heart breaking every time I dare to open my eyes and he isn’t there, staring right back at me.
Slash brought over a stash of Hack’s clothes at my request. Not for my chosen, but for me.
Leaving his side to use the bathroom almost had me pissing my own pants yesterday.
I couldn’t bear to be separated from him.
Wearing his clothes isn’t a replacement, but it’s better than nothing.
The scent of him still lingers in each molecule of the fabrics, the weight of them comforting in the strangest of ways.
I don’t even flinch when the bedroom door slams open, Slash barging inside with a tray full of food and coffee—at least, that’s been his M.O.
every time he’s come in over the last two days.
He has forced me to consume his offerings, and while I could have refused, I don’t want Hack to wake up and find me in a withered away heap.
“Sage, you good with our boy for the next day or two?”
There is a tray, and I hear him put it on the dresser at the foot of the bed. I also note the lack of a nickname. He rarely uses my given name.
Opening my eyes and turning to face him, I frown. It’s just been the two of us here the whole time because Slay and Pierce are still preoccupied with playing Dei Rafi’s games, and now he’s leaving?
“If you’re going to get fucked by something or someone, then no.
Don’t you fucking dare.” I glare at him, my patience wavering on a thin tightrope.
He’s been the one to apply Samhain’s elixir to Hack’s wound every time, then I wrap the bandages.
We’re a team, and I don’t know how I feel about being left in the home of the demon king—Dei—essentially alone.
Samhain insisted that we stay here because he would be in trouble with the Thirteen if they knew he had that elixir, and the only way to keep that secret is to keep it where he knows it’s safe.
I’m not complaining. The room is luxurious, like something out of a dark academia novel, all emerald greens and dark woods, but liking it doesn’t mean I want to be left to my own devices.
The small amount of sanity I have left is thanks to Slash—which, in itself, says exactly how bad this situation is.
“Nah, I fucked a pretty little thing who used her tail to get my prostate before I brought your coffee in this morning.” He wags his brows, grinning like a mad man and caressing his ass like it’s giving him happy memories.
“So why are you leaving me alone for a day or two? You told me your marshalls have everything in order with the soul collecting, your secret agents or whatever the fuck they are have instruction not to contact you until you say otherwise, you have pussy on demand, Slay and Pierce are interrogating the Dei of spirits, and Hack is right here.” I barely take a breath, going through everything he said about staying here, about doing this together.
“Calm your tits, Sagatha, you’re like a detective with all the information you just threw at me.
I know all of that. It is still true…” He pauses and rubs the back of his neck.
“Samhain has a harpy in the dungeon and she just gave a possible location for Danika.” He waves a piece of deep-red paper in the air.
I have never moved so fast. I’m up from the bed, creating the most badass outfit to ever exist, tugging on my goddess power to mold it to my body.
Tight black pants with cargo pockets, a gazillion straps filled with daggers wrapped around my thighs and calves, sturdy black boots, and a long-sleeve top to match.
A harness appears around my chest, also stuffed with daggers, then I grab one of Hack’s T-shirts and tear the fabric, making a wrap for my neck so his scent is always near.
I finish the look off with a black jacket, functional, full of pockets and spaces for more stabby things.
“What are you doing?” Slash’s brow creases in confusion.
“Thought I’d go for a walk and pick some nice flowers. C’mon, Slashmania, you really need me to talk you through it?” I grab one of the daggers from my thigh and, just as quickly, put it back again, deciding against trying to look cool by twirling it in my palm.
“I think I do, yeah.” He folds his arms across his firm chest, the bulges of his biceps impossible to ignore, but they have nothing on my man. Slash is clearly like Superman level muscular, but Hack is built like a brick shithouse.
“Danika is my best friend. Mine. What would you do if one of your brothers were in the same situation?” I hold my hand up, indicating for him to keep quiet as I continue. “Don’t answer that, because we both know you’d raze the land for them. Danika is like that for me.”
“She’s your brother?”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh and sit on the bed beside Hack, taking his cool hand in mine.
“You know what I mean.” Retribution sits heavy on my chest and I feel like finding Danika will settle a big part of that.
Yes, it will mean leaving Hack here with Slash, and also yes, it’s the dumb girl thing to go running into danger, but I’m feeling confident. Plus, Danika doesn’t know Slash. She might not even want to go with him. She needs a friendly face.
“Has someone told Desdemon?” I ask, stroking my thumb lightly over Hack’s hand.
The bed dips from the bottom, where Slash is now sitting.
“No.” He sighs. “Samhain thinks if we find her first, that will pull him some favor for a future whatever. You’re not going, so you might as well get back into bed.”
“Give me the address.” The demand is clear as I narrow my eyes at him.
“Think about this logically—fuck me, how am I the one saying that?—it might not be Danika, you don’t know where the fuck anything in Ryetoh is, and you have no way of getting there.
” He shrugs and stands and I spot the paper peeking out of the back pocket of his jeans.
“The house staff have strict instructions to leave your meals just outside the door and the next few rounds of elixir are in the top drawer of the dresser, code six-six-six-nine. I promise you—”
“Wait.” I look down at Hack, so peaceful in his slumber, and I know we have at least three more days before he’ll wake. He’ll understand. Kissing his clammy forehead, I stroke over his short hair and allow just one single tear to fall before I gather myself and stand.
Slash’s frown of confusion would be amusing if I wasn’t about to make a run for it.
“I’m sorry.” Spreading my arms wide, I go in for a hug, my apology genuine as I squeeze him.
Then, with my voice so soft, so light that it’s barely there, I recite one of the short spells I learned with Hekate.
It will only work with a little concentration and direct physical contact.
“Time is lost and time is gained, but never will we be the same.”
“What the—?” Slash doesn’t finish his sentence, his body and mind slowing down to a barely visible pace, time almost frozen for him now.
It’ll last for about thirty minutes, if I did it right, which gives me enough time to grab the address and go.
I have failed at pretty much everything else thus far; losing everyone, getting my chosen stabbed. I need this for me as much as for Danika.
The only thing I recognize about this address is the last part. Faloria.
Okay, so I should have thought this through, but grief does ridiculous things to a person, so here we are. I rush from the room with one final glance at Hack, and I know Slash will be pissed, but he’ll get over it and he won’t leave his brother alone here.
There’s a portal at the end of the hall, the same one we entered through when we arrived, and I make a beeline straight for it.
The station in The Shade is as busy as ever, but I ignore everyone and head toward the Faloria section.
Standing in front of my exit, I eye the address in my palm, knowing these things can take me almost directly to my destination, depending on how far away the nearest connecting portal is.
I step through, readying myself for the unexpected, but I’m not ready. Not at all.
What greets me is a dungeon. An actual, real life dungeon. It’s as though I have just appeared from within the wall behind me, and rows of doors line the long space.
“Hey, who are you? What’re you doing down here?”
Shit.
A harpy with an evil sneer on her face charges me but I’m not panicking. Yet.