The sidewalks were empty for the most part, and luckily, his destination wasn’t far.You chose it precisely for that reason, so there’s really no luck about it.
Quiet, he told his disorderly thoughts. Not that they ever listened.
Someone rounded the corner ahead. He approached them with his head high, daring them to question him. They didn’t. They didn’t even glance over. In fact, no one gave Murmur a second glance the entire way. The ease of his success both thrilled him and made him despise humanity all the more.
He was the villain here. He was the evil that was supposed to be stopped by the ultimate good of humankind. Instead, he was carrying an unconscious woman down the street toward a terrible fate, and not one person made a move to stop him.
Finally, he reached a shop-lined street, but instead ofturning down the sidewalk, he ducked down another side alley. With a quick glance around for nearby humans, he shifted back to demon form and unfurled his wings. He generally preferred to keep them hidden, finding their weight cumbersome when he was working in his library, but nothing beat the convenience of flight.
With several strong pumps of the leathery appendages, he flew up to the third-floor balcony of an empty apartment building at the end of the alley and climbed through one of the smashed-out windows. Once inside, he dragged the plywood that had once been nailed to the frame back into place.
He disappeared his wings again since the tiny human dwelling had not been fashioned for a being his size. Stooping so his horns wouldn’t scrape the ceiling, he tightened his grip on the witch and stepped over the rubble in the stripped-bare kitchen. On the floor in the dusty living area was a series of chalk-drawn symbols enclosed in a circle—a hellgate. He’d been using this one to come and go, waiting for this moment.
A hellgate functioned by linking with another gate in one’s desired destination. Murmur kept one in his study, which he had left open in anticipation of his return. Whenever he was back in his lair, he rendered the gate inert by smudging the outer line, preventing any unwelcome visitors.
He looked down at the witch in his arms. Still unconscious.Inconvenient, but easily remedied.Unconscious people could not travel by hellgate.
Dead people could. A dead body was like any other inanimate piece of luggage one might choose to travel with. But an unconscious person had a functioning brain, and it had to be emitting the proper electrical signals for the hellgate’s magic to operate.
He used his free hand to lightly slap her cheek, careful not to gouge her eyes with his claws. Her face was so tiny, if he spread his fingers, he could cover it entirely with one hand.
In anticipation of this moment, he hadn’t given her much venom, and he knew it wouldn’t take her long to awaken.
Sure enough, after several moments, her eyes began to move beneath their lids, and she groaned softly.
“Wakey wakey,” he said.
Her body tensed and her breathing changed, and then her eyes opened wide. She took one look at him and inhaled a sharp breath, possibly to scream, though from what he’d learned about her, she was more likely to hurl threats. But before she could—
He stepped into the hellgate.
The world spun violently, and he was briefly disoriented before arriving safely in his lair in Hell. Hellgate travel was far from pleasant, but one grew accustomed, and he barely noticed it now.
He looked around his familiar library and then at the bundle in his arms, who was momentarily stunned from the hellgate. He smiled.Mine at last.She was here, in his lair, where he controlled everything, and she would not escape. She would serve her purpose, exactly as he’d planned.
Everything was finally falling into place, and he allowed himself a moment to savor his victory.
That was until Suyin began to struggle violently in his grip. As predicted, she started shouting threats at him so loudly, it stung his ears. He fought to hold on to her, but the slippery witch actually wiggled out of his grasp, dropping unceremoniously to the floor.
He bent to grab her, but before he could get a proper grip, she reached to her boot, pulled out a switchblade, and fuckingstabbedhim with it. Right in the neck.
He snarled viciously and recoiled, ripping the knife out and tossing it out of reach. In the time that took, she immediately began crawling away on her forearms and knees like a crab-insect, scrambling toward the hellgate.
Cursing and covered in blood, he shot his tail out, wrapped it around her ankle, and yanked her back to his feet. He stabbed the tip into her neck, giving her a second dose of venom.
She slumped, unconscious once more.
He pressed a hand over his neck wound and eyed her with newfound wariness.Perhaps not quite as fragile as you assumed.
Suyin awoke to a dull ache in her left hip and shoulder. The surface she lay on was rock-hard—literally, it seemed she was lying on a slab of stone—and her body was stiff and sore because of it. How long had she been asleep?
Where had she fallen asleep anyway?
The lull of unconsciousness still held sway over her, so she shifted positions slightly, hoping to sink back into the abyss.
Bloodshot eyes, tall horns, sharp claws—
She snapped out of the haze in a second and sat up with a jerk. Blinking roughly, she squinted at the wall in front of her and waited for her eyes to focus.
