Page 43 of Hell Hath No Fury


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“Eyes of Curiosity.”

The moment the whispered words of sorcery left his lips, a shimmering window appeared in the bricks. The unexpected burst of light made Bex jump, and then her face broke into a grin.

Thanks to Leander’s spell, she now had an unobstructed view into the tower above them. The huge, white, cylindrical building looked exactly like she remembered, but there were a lot more warlocks on the stairs this time. It almost looked like they were standing in line, waiting their turn to talk to a person she couldn’t see, who was standing next to the golden armored prince Bex had seen before.

“Ah,” Leander whispered in a relieved voice. “That’s Demetrios, Prince of Hate.”

“Is he going to be a problem?” Bex whispered back.

“Not for me,” the prince said smugly. “Of all the replacements Father could have chosen, Demetrios is actually the least suited to handle my sorcery. His princess will be difficult, though.”

Given the chase she’d put them through last time despite her chains, Bex believed it. Even more worrisome, she didn’t see the princess anywhere inside the square of the magical window. She was moving her head from side to side, trying to see into the parts of the tower the window’s viewpoint didn’t include, when Bex finally caught a glimpse of the person the warlocks were lining up to meet.

The sight stopped her cold. Standing on the stairs with the golden prince and all the fawning, white-robed Heavenlydenizens was a man dressed entirely in black. Bex couldn’t see his face from way down here, but that didn’t matter. She’d know that coat and pointed hat anywhere. It was Adrian.

Just knowing he was close sent Bex’s heart thudding up into her throat. She’d thought about him so much over the last week, part of her was worried that she was hallucinating him now. Then Boston made an excited sound, and Bex knew this was no dream. After weeks of loneliness followed by losing him to the enemy, Adrian was only half a tower above her head, and nothing was going to keep Bex away from him this time.

“I know that look,” Boston whispered with a sharp-toothed cat grin. “Ready to get our witch back?”

Bex nodded rapidly but signaled for him to wait. Her demons were still coming through the tunnel below. They’d lose their advantage if they got excited and started blasting before everyone was in position. But when she leaned over the edge of the spiral stairs to tell the demons to get ready, something slammed into the stone floor above her head like a dropped piano.

Wham!

The sudden noise almost made Bex fall off the stairs. Thankfully, Iggs was just a few steps below and was able to grab her before she went over. Bex nodded her thanks and scrambled back to Leander’s sorcerous window, but when she looked through to see what in the Hells had just hit them, the chained princess was staring right back at her with golden eyes full of hate.

She bared her white teeth next, snarling through the cage of her sin-iron muzzle as she began punching a hole through the bricked-up passage with her carved white fist.

“Forget getting into position!” Boston yowled, pawing something out of his cat pack as the stone began to crumble. “Justgo!”

That was all the warning Bex got before the intense smell of forest mixed with the violence of a thunderstorm exploded through the ceiling above her like a magical bomb.

CHAPTER 10

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ADRIAN’S TRIP INTO THEHells was not going as planned.

He’d thought he was finally making progress when Prince Demetrios led him out of the war-demon-only Upper Hells into a white tower at the center of a gigantic cavern. The Hell of War had felt more like the Holy City’s basement with all its loyal demons toiling away without even a warlock to oversee them. This, though,thiswas the real deal.

Adrian had noted the security bells and armed war-demon guards the moment they’d stepped out of the connecting tunnel onto the white platform of the tower’s top floor observation room. The air down here was even smokier than it was upstairs, but unlike the forge-warmed Hell of War, the Middle Hells were as cold and damp as a winter well. He could see why, too, when he looked through the observation room’s big glass windows. The floor of the giant Middle Hells cavern was covered in half a foot of standing water. It looked like a giant rice paddy filled with chained slaves kneeling in rows, running their hands through the dark, stagnant water like they were searching for frogs.

“What are they doing?”

“Collecting humanity’s sins,” Prince Demetrios answered in a disgusted voice. “Heavenly King, did they teach you nothing in the Blackwood?”

Not about this. Even the demons didn’t talk about the Hells if they could avoid it, but Adrian had never been more excited to be in such a terrible place. It was obvious that they’d just entered the heart of Gilgamesh’s demon exploitation machine. If the Queen of Pride—and more importantly, Bex—was imprisoned anywhere, it would be somewhere like this. The cat-shaped finding spell was going nuts in his pocket, too, which meant he had to be getting close. He just needed to ditch his escort so he could follow the signal, but before Adrian could launch into his prepared speech about howboringthis next part was about to be and how the Prince of Hatereallydidn’t need to stick around, he’d been bowled over by an eager crowd of smiling men in stuffy white robes.

He’d been trapped ever since. Apparently, princes who weren’t in disgrace never came to the Hells. This meant the warlocks working down here never got the chance to suck up, and these men weren’t about to let an opportunity like Adrian pass them by.

They’d been lining up to shake his hand for the last fifteen minutes. He’d thought the actual Prince of the Hells would put a stop to it since all the brown-nosing was slowing them down, but Demetrios had just leaned against the wall to enjoy the show like a bully watching a hazing. Even the princesses kept their distance. Hate was straining at the end of her chain like always, but the fake Bex was beaming with pride at the sight of Adrian finally getting the attention a son of Gilgamesh deserved.

It was hell. Every time Adrian finished shaking one batch of hands, another group of warlocks ran up the steps to accost him. He’d done his best to stay polite—not because slavers deserved politeness but because he was on a mission that was going to get even harder if he pissed off the local security—but Adrian was rapidly losing his patience. It didn’t help that the finding spell was kicking him constantly in his chest, urging himto action he couldn’t take. He was about to give up and play the “I’m a super-important son of Heaven, don’t touch me” card when Demetrios suddenly bolted out of his slouch like he’d been stung.

A heartbeat later, Adrian saw why. Prince Demetrios had lost his grip on the chained Princess of Hate. She raced down the spiral staircase with a screech, bowling over warlocks to reach the tower’s open center. The moment she had open air in front of her, she jumped, falling the final five floors down the middle of the spiral stairs to land at the bottom of the tower like a princess-shaped sack of bricks.

The crash when she hit shook the entire tower, but the chained Princess of Hate didn’t even seem to notice. She just started punching the floor, kicking the elegant white security desk—along with the warlock who’d been sitting at it—out of the way so she’d have more room to work. Her prince was racing down the stairs to get her back under control when the whole bottom level of the security tower exploded in a storm of raging magic.

Extremelyfamiliarmagic.