When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 270

By the time the blackness has settled around us, we find ourselves standing in a large room. It is a hexagonal room, large, and with no doors, precisely how I designed it. No light shines through for the windows are non existent, the only source of light coming from the flickering gas lanterns on the walls, high out of reach. On the cold marble walls, ornate pictures are carved with black into the marble, the tales of my ancestors, and of my past.

Pushing her off me, I let her stand, solitary, in the middle of the room, keen to see just what she might do- if anything at all. Fortunately, I am not disappointed.

Throwing back her hood slightly to reveal a wash of white hair and two slanted ears, she glances around the room in a hurry, her breath quick in her throat. Giving a furtive glance to each wall, she spins around on her heels, her body tensed for attack, or to leap away as soon as the next opportunity provides. But as soon as she realises there is no door to this room, her face falls.

“Where are we?” comes her low whisper of a hiss, but her eyes are brimming with fear.

Sitting on a bench that materialises itself behind me, I rest my chin against my palm, pondering. It would seem the poor girl still hasn’t given up hope on making her way out of here. A shame that I have to crush those dreams so swiftly.

“In a subspace of hell.”

Two confused blinks and then:

“What?”

Sighing softly, I run my fingers through my hair, exasperated with this woman already. Honestly, are heaven and hell truly that foreign of a concept? Granted, it was only through years of sheer hard work and study that I was able to access this little pocket of the place- the place where my power derives from- and a lot of cohesion with the hell hounds who guard it. It is rare I use it, considering it drains so much power, and when my soul had been split, I refrained from using it at all. But for now, this private little room will suffice all my needs.

“Well more specifically, we are in one of the rooms I designed in hell specifically for holding hostages. Don’t try to escape, there is no way out,” I assure her with a sly grin, letting the shadows slink around the room as though they are as fluid as water. I know I am a mostly reformed vampire by now, but I do enjoy the chase of playing with ones prey. Especially when they happen to be traitorous little wretches who would like nothing better than to kill Serena and my friends at the first opportunity to get their grubby little hands on a knife.

To them I can afford to spare no remorse.

“So,” I say rather nonchalantly, as if we aren’t in the depths of hell in a prison of my own creation. Impatiently, I tap my foot against the ground.

“Why are you here, little girl? I would say you are naïve- if not foolish, to come looking for me in the hopes that you could actually kill me, but that is your mistake, not mine.”

Frowning deeply, she withdraws herself from me.

“As if I’d tell you,” she spits, fishing in her cloak quickly before pulling out yet another silver dagger, clutching it tightly in her fists, but this time, she does not attempt to throw it at me. Not that it would matter anyway. Raising my finger, I give a little flick towards the gleaming silver weapon before a second later, the whole thing dissipates into a dusty blackness between her fingers. Blankly she stares at it, her mouth open in shock.

Silly mortal girl, it is if she didn’t know she would be coming up to the power of a soul.

“I must request no weapons in this place, little girl,” I sigh, leaning further back against the bench, resting my hands behind my head. At that comment, she glowers at me, but I merely shrug it off.

“I certainly hope you aren’t stowing away any more weapons in there,” I hum, pointing lazily to her cloak that she shrouds herself in, one of her hands half buried in its depths. I lower my eyes. “If you do I might just have to get rid of everything else on you too, including your clothes. Won’t that be humiliating?” I say, grinning now, a wide, obnoxious grin. To this, a visible shudder runs through her as she eyes me up and down, as though wondering exactly what I might do to her if that was the case. But I am no monster, not like my brother, and frankly, I would prefer her to keep her clothes on.

Oh, but it is such fun to toy with them, to twist their belief and perception of me. To make myself seem the monster they desire to believe I am.

Still, the girl says nothing. Rolling my eyes, I lift myself from my seat. It has already been an irritatingly long night, I would rather not have this girl drag it out for any longer. Sweeping in shadow form to the space before her, I latch onto her hand, holding it up above her head. Squeaking a little, she flails like a landed fish in my grip, but to no avail. It is only a few seconds after that I realise that my grip is so tight around her that in seconds, her fingers begin to shift from white to purple.

“Let me make one thing clear, darling,” I spit disdainfully, drawing my face close to hers, my fangs flashing. Straining against my grip, she recoils slightly, but not enough. And even if she did escape, she would only remain here, there is no way out.

“I am in no mood to be patient. My wife is missing, my brother is hunting down souls, so if you don’t start talking very quickly, I might just-” a colossal ball of shadows catapults down behind my shoulder, shattering the ground on which we stand “-lose my patience. Are we very clear?” I growl, heat flashing across my face as my eyes sink into a deadly red.

Underneath her skin, I can feel her heart quivering as her eyes remain glued to the place of impact.

Good, I think with a sadistic glee to myself. Fear shall be her motivation.

“This room is made entirely out of galactic marble, you know. You mortals think of it as unbreakable,” picking up a chunk of marble that has chipped off on her shoulder, I inspect it between my fingers. “But I just broke right through it. Imagine how easily I would break through you,” I breathe, letting go of her now. Stumbling back, she pulls her cloak further around herself, her heart beating so wildly that it becomes an almost unbreaking hum.

I can practically see her will breaking. After approximately two seconds of deliberation, she cries:

“Fine!” cocooning herself further in the blanket, as though it might somehow keep her from me. Alas it will not. But I have gotten the answer I need. Pacing over to sit back down on the bench I have conjured, I clasp my fingers together, gazing at her over my hands.

“Just so you know,” I add, giving her a firm look. “I will know if you are lying. I can hear your heart.”

She pales a bit after that.

“Look,” she begins nervously, playing with the end of her cloak. “I came here on orders. Our Lord told us nothing about you, only that you needed to die.”

“That was his first mistake then,” I growl, tapping my fingers together irritably. Of course, it is understandable that Azrael will have told his lackeys nothing about me- none of them would agree to it without having to be put under mind control, and that basically wipes out half their higher intelligence.

Either way, it is suicide.

“How do you know our Master?” she presses with a wary curiosity, slightly aghast. Tapping my fingers together impatiently, I almost chuckle. The whole situation seems almost laughable.

“Darling,” I say, rising from my seat now, finding sitting to be rather tedious. “He is my brother. So in knowing that, and knowing that I am a far older, far wiser soul than he, imagine how much pain I could do to you in return. So cease your questions, and tell me exactly what has happened.”

After that she does not hesitate.

“Okay okay fine! Look, he called in assassins from different parts of Faey and informed us that there are two vampires and some mortals that he needed hunting. He didn’t elaborate further than that, and we only stayed in his palace for a short amount of time.”

Raising my eyebrows, I peer curiously at this girl. For an assassin, she took less breaking than I had imagined would be necessary. I had brought her down here thinking things might get a little more… brutal. But she seems willing enough to talk now that the chips are down.

Which leads me to wonder why that is….