As I sit and impatiently wait for what will happen next, the group of hunters around me begin to look uneasy. I would imagine this complicates things for them if they can only sense where a demon is, yet there is no demon to hunt.
That’s why she came alone.
Though it certainly won’t help. She’s still just one woman against an army of these hunters. Another explosion sounds up above us, causing pieces of concrete to fall from the ceiling, threatening to come down on us.
“Your girl is fucking crazy,” Alastor laughs, not a drop of fear in his tone, “She’ll bring the whole building down on herself just to help you escape.”
How did she get her hands on explosives? How would she even know how to make them?
The moment the realization hits me, I start to chuckle. Horrible, rattling laughter from the fluid still in my lungs, but laughter nonetheless.
For the first time, I see a hint of trepidation in the man before me as he asks, “What is so funny?”
I clear the liquid in my throat the best I can before answering, “It would appear that your cousin is taking a special interest in destroying you.”
If Isla is here, it’s only a matter of time before the might of Eamon arrives to protect her from the madness she’s begun.
“Is my whore cousin supposed to alarm me?” he scoffs, but he can’t hide the nerves causing the hair on his arms to stand at attention.
Another explosion causes the walls to shake, more debris falling from them. The spelled cages surrounding us rattle, threatening to release every prisoner they’ve kept for god knows how long. Most of the demons locked inside are so drained of energy they don’t even notice the impending fall of the walls holding them captive.
“How long-” I wheeze, “How long do you think those will hold if Isla keeps blowing everything to bits?” I’ve asked the question loud enough that every hunter in the room can hear me. They all start looking around, the scent of their fear filling the air.
“I wouldn’t worry about them getting out if I were you,” Alastor tells me. “I would worry about the price your little sacrifice will pay to make sure they do. I’ll be damned if I let some little twit ruin everything I’ve worked for and still walk away.”
“I’m going to enjoy every second of watching her tear you to pieces,” I vow. “I’ll ensure you’re alive long enough to watch your own heart stop beating outside your chest cavity.”
At the next explosion, this one even closer, one of the other hunters walks up to Alastor, asking him to consider fleeing and leaving us prisoners behind.It’s not worth losing all the men we have here,he urges.
“No,” the single syllable may as well be the falling of an axe with how final it is.
But the young hunter doesn’t seem to respect his superior as much as Alastor would like me to believe, “We are not equipped to fight against explosives, Al. Demons don’t use them.”
Through gritted teeth, he commands, “You haveguns. Dead girls can’t set off bombs.”
“No way, man. I’m not hurting humans. That’s not what we do. And the director said to keep Isla out of this. They need her.”
Alastor’s eye twitches for a moment before he falls back into the calm, cold demeanor he wears as a mask. “Fine,” he says plainly, “Then give me your gun if you’re not going to use it.”
The young man, appearing fresh out of his school years, hands the large firearm to him, waiting to see what his next order will be now that he’s chosen to disobey.
Without any preamble or warning, he raises the gun, sending a bullet right between the young man’s eyes with a loud boom that echoes off the walls, the body falling with a heavy thunk.
“Anyone else?” At the silence around him, he grins, throwing the firearm on top of the still-bleeding husk. “Good. Shoot the girls. The director needs Islaalive, but not necessarily walking. Are we clear?”
At the next explosion and subsequent rattle around us, his frustration culminates in a loud groan, bordering on a yell, before ordering, “Go! Find them. End this now.”
Once the group has left, leaving us alone, he looks at me again, letting his rage run free now that no one but me is here to see it. He silently fumes, glaring at me like I’m the reason for his impending failure.
“What’s wrong, hunter? Things not going as you hoped?” I taunt, though I’m certain it falls flat in my current, bloodied and destroyed state.
He groans, “Bel and Fritz were supposed to show up. They were going to come in and get you, killing everyone in their path, finishing this. But Isla… and this- this… kamikaze bullshit is just fucking…bullshit!”
He’s nearly shaking with fury, his face beet red with it.
“What did you expect?” I laugh as the walls around us slowly crumble from another blast. “That they would simply arrive and hand themselves over for me?”
He speaks through clenched teeth, “No. But it’s supposed to be Fritz and Bel, bonded and indestructible. If they’re not, all of this is fornothing.That was the whole fuckingpoint.” He starts gripping his hair by the roots and pulling it up, the anger turning into panic. “No, no, no, no!” He smacks his head with both hands, ordering himself to just think. Just fucking calm down and think.
