Chapter Four

 

I was cold, I was groggy, and I was mad. A sharp, metallic aftertaste stained my mouth, and the smell of urine, and dead things clogged my nose. Opening my eyes I was relieved, and infuriated, to meet two sets of pretty brown eyes set in sun browned heart shaped faces.

“She’s waking up,” one of the faces said. “Give her some room to breathe.”

The girl was pretty. A button nose, wide eyed, and a cute crop of dark brown hair. She crouched close by me, almost protective. A purple bruise decorated the side of her face and her pouty mouth looked swollen.

I tried to move my arms to crawl back, but I winced. My body was not fit to do much but lie still. No matter, I did not want to lie there like a dead thing, so I shifted up onto my elbows, but further movement was hindered by a chain connected to a rusty manacle at my throat, my skin was swollen from the contact.

Uncomfortable on the hard ground, I scooted a little more before settling. Then I took in my surroundings.

The ceiling was low and dirty and the room wide, crumbling red brick. Candles with sticky wax overflowed onto the wall casting glowing arcs of light. Rows of manacles and snaking chains were nailed into wooden panels on the floor. Dark, shiny patches of red stained the gray concrete I sat on, and explained the dead smell. The shadowy corners made the walls curved, a room of death and shadows.

I shuddered, and my eyes settled on the brown eyes girl again. Oh hell. I was seeing double.

“What– Where–” I made a rude noise, squeezed my eyes shut to hold back the tears.

Panicking would get me nowhere. I had to remain calm and not see double. Whatever had happened, the Priests would find me and save me from this…this…place.

I opened my eyes but little had changed, expect one of the brown eyed girls was grinning broadly.

“You’re not going mad, fairy. There are two of us.” She nodded her head to the second brown-eyed girl, who stared at my wings with a mixture of fascination and disgust. “That is Nimah, my younger and spoilt twin. I’m Amelia.”

I blinked and shook my head. I could have sworn she said fairy. “Hai,” I said relieved at least I was not seeing things even if I was hearing things.

“Why can we smell our Alpha on you?” Nimah asked and tilted her head back proudly, as if she expected nothing less than a full and immediate answer from me.

I’d knocked something important loose in my brain, I was sure of it. “Where are we?” I asked. I directed the question at Amelia.

She beamed at me; happy I had chosen to finish our exchange before indulging her sister. “We’re in the humans dungeon under the place they train the Hoods.”

Biting my lip, I cocked my head. “Hoods?”

“The humans who wear the red hoods,” she said and trembled. “The ones who protect the Wall.”

Why did she speak as if human was something foreign to her? “We’re at Temple?” I said, beyond relieved. I mean, I had never heard of, or seen this place before, but it meant I had made it back alive. That was the last time I ran in demon territory. For a while, I was afraid I had stumbled onto some of them, the demons.

Thank gods I was safe.

Judging by the lack of light, and the shape of the walls we were deep underground. Perhaps a Cleric had found me and not wanted to alarm the other Disciples by taking me to Sanctuary. Intuition told me that was unlikely, since I was manacled. Maybe they were being on the safe side? After all I was a human, but maybe they were afraid a vampire had glamoured me, or something.

“What is going on exactly?” I asked, failing to keep panic from my voice.

The tight ball of fear in my gut was painful. Movement close by in the shadows made me tense. I squinted then there was a hitch in my breathing.

A small, gangly figure was curled up in the corner, huge eyes with black holes for pupils, swallowing the whites of his eyes. His lips were small, and pouty, and his bone structure delicate. He was clothed in a threadbare tunic. Stained and torn it hung loosely from his shoulders and was bunched up in his fisted hands. He was bald and frighteningly skinny. Hunched over, I could see the vertebrae in his back jut from beneath his sallow skin. His fingers were boney and his cheeks sunken. He stared at me. But gods his eyes were huge, dominating the top half of his face. Cuffed to the wall, his manacle chain was coiled by his legs.

“Fairy?”

I frowned, shifting my attention back to the girls. “Why do you keep saying that?” I lowered my voice. “And is that … is that a….”

“Goblin, yes. A half-breed I think. We call him Runt.” She beckoned to him. “Come here, cutie. C’mon.”

If such a thing was possible, the goblin-child’s eyes widened to perfect circles, and he shuffled closer to the wall, turning his head into his shoulder to hide his face. He made a faint keening, snuffling noise.

Amelia shrugged. “He doesn’t talk. They have zapped him one too many times, I think. He is afraid of his own shadow. He won’t even let us try to treat his sores. He just eats and drinks once a day then sits in his corner. It is sad really. It would be nice to have someone else to talk to. My sister can be a total bitch.”

Nimah whacked her on the arm, scowling. “Bite me, I’m sitting right here.”

“I know you think the whole world revolves around you, but believe it or not even though your name was mentioned, I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Why are you horrible to me? Even when we were cubs you were mean to me.”

“What part of ‘not talking to you’ don’t you understand?”

I cleared my throat. “Uh, girls….”

“What?” they said and turned to me simultaneously.

My head swam, and I blinked a few times before squinting. “You called me a fairy….”

They shot strange looks at each other. The younger sister made a sweeping motion with her hand to her twin. “Go ahead; I know how you love to baby the broken ones.”

“Touch your ears,” Amelia said.

Frowning, I did as she said, confused as to what she was getting at. I touched my ears pointing out of my hair. I froze and my fingers twitched over the tip of my ear that was decidedly pointy. Then I was aware of the two limbs resting across my back and then floor. I was aware of the tail curling about my waist. My heart pounded and I squeezed my eyes shut. “I– I feel sick–” I gasped; memories hit me in the gut and bombarded my mind. My eyes shot open. “Alec!” I shouted and stood. I spun round and launched myself at the door, a moment after I remembered the iron manacle. I jerked to a stop and lost my footing. I fell hard and smacked my head on the floor. I felt the skin at my temple split.

“Be still, fairy. If you make too much noise they’ll come.” Amelia touched my shoulder and I shrugged her off violently.

Surging up to my knees, I crawled away from them and put my back against the wall.

I remembered everything. I was protecting Alec and had been tagged by the Clerics. Me dropped by tazer probes … how could I be so stupid? Why was I not focusing on what was going on around me? How the hell did they get so far into the Pride? Something was no right here and I needed to find out what.

“I need out of this hole,” I growled.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Nimah said. “No doubt they’ll be back for you soon. You’re the new plaything.” She shot me a dirty look, and tipped her nose up. “Now you seem to have returned to yourself answer my question. Why is the scent of our Alpha on you?” She crossed her sinewy arms over her chest tightly. Unlike Amelia she had a heavy fringe that fell into her eyes. “I thought I scented Alec, and you seem to know him, but that’s just crazy talk. Why would his scent linger on you? For it to be so strong there would need to be prolonged skin to skin contact.” She glared at me. Was this shifter-girl the one Alec confessed he wished to Claim? But he had told me she didn’t know he existed.

“Oh, shut up, Ni. Leave the poor girl alone.”

A startling thought occurred to me. “I’m a demon,” I said and blinked. I was still struggling to adjust, and though these girls seemed to need some answers from me, I was still running a few things through my clouded mind. Where was Alec now? Was Breandan looking for me, and how long had I been down here? Oh gods. How long had I been down here? Conall would be going nuts. And as for Breandan…. Yeah, I was in big trouble.

“Yes,” Nimah promoted, jarring me out of my horrified thoughts. “You’re a….” I said nothing, still shocked and confused. Witheringly, she looked at Amelia.

I looked too. I could use some direction.

“Fairy,” she said.

At the expression that twisted my face, they both tensed and shuffled closer together. They waited for my shriek, or yell, but it never happened. The twins watched me, heads cocked together. It was like there was a mirror but the reflections differed slightly. Amelia’s face was a smidge rounder and Nimah’s eyes were a fraction darker.

“They must have hit you with a high voltage to screw with your memory so badly,” Amelia said after a terse pause. “Don’t worry, it’ll get clearer soon.”

“She’s still hasn’t explained why she smells like members of our pack,” the young twin said bluntly.

Running a hand down her hunched back in comfort, Amelia’s voice was hard. “Give her time. She has been through a lot. Remember how you were when we first got here?”

The younger twin wiggled, to get her sister to back off, but she kept stroking so she stilled.

My hands flew up and out. “Unguh, they did hit me too hard.” I smacked myself on the forehead. “You’re Byron’s missing daughters, aren’t you?”

“So you do know our father.” Amelia shifted forward, a light coming on in her eyes. “He’s coming for us?”

I nodded. “Yes. We had a deal. I’m going to rescue you.” As I said the words, I flushed. “I mean, uh, I was going to rescue you before I was caught, of course.”

Nimah was watching me, distrust plain on her face. “I don’t believe you. Our father would never ask the fairy-lord for help. And involve one of his concubines? I don’t think so.”

I spluttered, “Concubine? Give me a break. I’m not Devlin’s concubine. My name is Rae, and I’m–”

The door shuddered.

Nimah and Amelia instinctively slid closer together. Both turned their gaze upon me and I saw panic in their eyes. Even Runt had turned to look at me, and if possible, his face was even paler than before.

The door swung open and slammed against the back wall. Three figures in crimson blazers with black tails stood in the doorway. Hoods pulled over their heads, the light, and my eyesight was enough for me to make them out. All were much older than us. Men. One had sunken eyes and a crooked nose. The other was fair and stunningly handsome, for a human. The last was stockier in build and rougher in appearance; stubble was visible on his jaw and his blazer looked rumbled. I thought I saw a faint trace of guilt flitter across his expression, but then it was gone, and his expression was blank.

Amelia shuffled forward and crouched in front of me. She arched her back and hissed, sounding like a cat, a cat that was pissed. Nimah came up on my other side.

“Good thinking, Melia,” she muttered. “Throw our lot in with the fairy stupid enough to get caught.”

The Clerics stepped forward and I figured out my next move. The iron had drained my strength, no doubt. I was weak, disorientated, and the stench of the metal made me retch, but I had been trained in combat by these Clerics. I knew how they would move and fight. If we could overwhelm them, we could escape. I may not get another chance. I had to try.

They needed to come closer. Close enough so that they were in punching distance. Close enough, so that I could snap their neck in one of the three ways I had been taught in Martial Arts. Damn, close enough so that I could bite and scratch the crap out of them if needs be. I had never killed anyone before, and I did not want to start now. But hell would freeze over if they thought I was going to die without taking at least one of them with me.

The Cleric with the crooked nose pulled something out from behind him. A silver blade. Nimah and Amelia recoiled then both growled, seeming to fill the dungeon with the noise of an entire shifter Pack.

Runt wailed in the corner. It sounded different than his usual sounds. A warning?

The Cleric brandishing the silver knife stepped forward and the shifter twins recoiled again, both taking hold of my shoulders to keep me with them. The touch was like a full body hiccup and I shrugged them off. I hated strangers touching me. The moment their hands left me the two other Clerics grabbed hold of my feet and dragged me toward the door. Amelia made a high, strangled sound, enraged.

Still, they dragged me, and I dug my hands into the earth around me, snarling. I kicked my legs, and had I not been iron drained and bound they would have flown with such a force they would be dead. As it was, I was like a child struggling under the hands of her stronger parents.

I heard the clink of chains, the twist of a key in the lock, and I felt my irons give. I was no longer tethered to the floor. The Clerics let go of my feet and I flipped round, planning to attack the lone Cleric first then face these two with Nimah and Amelia at my side, but I moved a hell of a lot slower than I’d thought I would. By the gods, I was tired. I had no speed, no strength, but I refused to believe I had no hope.

Two pairs of heavy hands landed on my shoulders and dragged me back.

Runt hurled himself onto the lone Clerics back and buried his teeth into his ear. The Cleric howled and spun, trying to shake him off but the goblin-child attached himself like a barnacle to the Clerics back and would not let go. Blood splashed against the walls as the Cleric yelled and shook, trying to slash him with the knife.

Free from the fear of being cut with silver, Nimah and Amelia flew at me, clinging onto my arms. The Clerics well-aimed kicks hit their backs and arms, but they held on to me. I caught the fear in Amelia’s eyes. Not for herself, but for me.

Runt flew through the air, and smashed into a wall. He twitched on the floor, his arm and leg bent at funny angles. His orb like eyes filled with tears as he watched me. He opened his mouth and a lump of bloody flesh fell out. An ear. Moving quicker than I thought possible he was back in his corner, cradling his arm and leg.

The knife-wielding Cleric staggered forward, swinging the silver at the shifter twins. Their instinct took over and they let go. The Cleric with a crooked nose backhanded Nimah in the face and sent her sprawling across the floor. She smacked her head and was still. Amelia went crazy, eyes wild she lunged at him but he unhooked the tazer baton from his belt and rammed into her chest. The girl convulsed and fell to the floor. Spasaming. The Cleric kept at it, prodding her with the tazer until her body was contorted and twisted almost beyond recognition. The Cleric kicked her in the gut then he drew back his booted foot and brought it crashing into her face. She too was still.

Runt keened loudly, rocking back and forth in his corner, arms around his legs and eyes staring at me glassily.

The shifter twins were motionless, but I could see they were breathing by the dust that stirred by their mouths.

I was dragged up, but I fought. I twisted and turned. Bit with my teeth and yelled as they wrapped the chain around my neck and yanked. I resisted, knowing if I was dragged out that door something terrible would happen to me. They heaved on the chain and my feet slid forward. Again they pulled, and I stumbled forward out the door.

I was half carried and half dragged down a narrow passageway, which was no more than a dirt tunnel. It smelt musky, and the oppression of it had me feeling claustrophobic. My Cleric guard said nothing directly to me, though the crooked nose Cleric behind me grumbled about his lost ear.

I stopped fighting, realizing I was getting nowhere. My strength waned the more I fought, and I was not affecting them at all. I needed to be calm and plan my next move. I was weaker and slower than I had first thought. I had no magic in the iron-drenched hell, just my wits, which were thin and frayed from stress.

After a moments deep breathing, I tried to feel through the bond for Breandan. Almost nothing, a faint sense of despair and anger. He’d moved no closer since I last checked. Why was he not coming for me? Fear gripped me. What if he was in trouble? What if he needed me, my power, and here I was chained and manacled, held by the Sect.

I concentrated on the bond again, trying to feel for fear and pain. No, he was not wounded I would feel that.

As I tried to seek answers through a bond I did not understand across a vast expanse of land, I noticed a darkness wobbling on the edge of my consciousness. It was familiar to me and the boy it connected me too was trying to reach me through it, calling, searching.

“Tomas,” I whispered.

A heavy boot landed between my shoulder blades and I pitched over into the passageway. Dirt rammed into my mouth and my head spun.

“Quiet,” barked the crooked nose Cleric.

He pulled me up to set me on my feet then pushed me on.

Soon, I saw a soft light up ahead. My senses were dulled, but I knew we were no closer to the earth surface. From what I could tell, we headed deeper underground. Soon it was clear that the glow ahead was candlelight.

Blank, white walls, a bare concrete floor.

The room before me was empty apart from a single metal chair with a small table beside it. When my eyes landed on what was on the table I froze. Then my gaze drifted across the floor.

Blood.

I stepped back, shaking my head, trembling from head to toe. The Clerics grabbed my upper arms when I tried to plant my feet. I screamed. A wad of stinking cloth was stuffed into my mouth, forcing my jaw open then another tied over to keep it put when I tried to spit it out. Within moments, my jaw was dry and aching from my muffled shrieks.

I was thrown into the chair and the iron shackles hooked into iron rings on the floor. The metallic smell of blood wafted off the instruments beside me and I consciously leaned away, pressing my head into my shoulder. I was strapped in with leather belts across my waist, chest, and legs. The iron chains were arranged in a way that kept my hands lashed down to the chair arms, palm up.

Oh, gods this was bad. I’d fallen into ghastly situations before, but this was really bad.

I tried to look brave. Tried to look unaffected and bold, but the rise and fall of my chest was too pronounced to name me anything but completely terrified.

A figure, stepped into the low doorway. His face was shadowed, but I could see he had big arms and calves. Wisps of curly hair had drifted out from beneath his crimson cloak, which flapped with each step against the back of his thighs. His black boots were buckled up to his knees, and his funnel-like sleeves fell over his hands. He stepped forward and I met the cold stare trained on me, flinching when anger sparked in their depths.

“You may not fear us now,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “But you will. You may think you will not give up the rest of … your kind but you will. You may think because you heal that our cuts,” he hissed the word, “won’t hurt so badly.”

My eyes drifted closed. He would not see me cry. I had once thought this man to be the best of humanity, thought him kind, honorable, and good. Now as I looked into his face, I saw nothing but death. So I closed my eyes and thought of Breandan. I would focus on the good, clean things.

A sharp slap to my face had my lids slamming open.

“Pay attention, demon,” Cleric Tu spat.

I flushed in anger, feeling welts stinging my cheek where he had slapped me. I fought the reaction to burst into tears; so derogatory was such a strike. Instead, I glared at him and let loathing twist my expression into something inhuman.

“Yes. That’s right.” He leaned down and placed his hands on my forearms, squeezing me painfully. “Show us the creature beneath the magic. It makes my job a whole lot easier. Do you know our slashes, our stabs, never used to do much good? They never did hurt you fairies for long.” He picked up a pair of pincers. Blood and bits of flesh crusted the tips. “Yes, I know what you are. The wings make it a bit obvious,” he finished dryly. He brought the instrument inches from my face until it was all I could see. So strong was the smell I could almost taste the rotting skin stuck to the clamping end and beneath it the sharp scent of iron that had my stomach crunching painfully. “Well let me tell you that in the last century of survival we’ve gotten extremely gifted at making our cuts hurt like hell.”

A Cleric out of my line of sight slammed the door closed.

I wish I could say it was dark from then. In honesty I had hoped I would black out from panic then repress any memories that may be too painful to recall.

But I was conscious, aware throughout the entire ordeal.

Surely I screamed for days, down, in that box of white?

No matter how hard I screamed his name, no matter how hard I tried to call him to me, he never came.

Then I screamed for somebody, anybody, to save me.

Each time I thought my pain had reached its peak they would do something that would have my heart stuttering, and my mind buckling under the strain. They knew how to cause maximum damage whilst keeping me conscious.

When I almost passed out they shot me with adrenaline. I had thought it was the end, was convinced the needle was full of poison that would burn me from the inside out. They jammed the thin tube of metal into my chest and my body convulsed.

When it was no longer safe to keep jump starting my heart they would make me pop slammers until I was high, laughing as they stripped the flesh from my knuckles then brought me crashing back down with blows from fists and tazers.

My body healed, but soon it chose its wounds more carefully.

At one point they tried to remove the circlet from my brow, but when a Cleric was zapped with magic until he collapsed they stopped trying.

The first time they sliced me open – a shallow cut to the forearm – it had healed instantly, the skin fresh and new, pinker than the rest of my skin with a faint scar where the wound had been. It was like my body mocked them. The Clerics merely grunted and started hacking, slicing, and ripping away at me until my body gave up, and my blood ran over my wrists and the seat like a waterfall to pool on the floor about my bare feet.

I had broken bones in my body before, as a Disciple, it came with the territory of training. But it had always been accidental and a broken wrist healed fast, even if you were human. Legs, fingers, and toes broken in such a way to cause excruciating pain were a different matter.

Always I healed, a fresh canvass for them to mutilate over and over again.

I remember thinking with a kind of horror that this would be my fate. They would keep me in that room for an eternity and beat me senseless. Then when my body could no longer heal, its reserves used, and unable to draw power from the Source they would kill me. The thought had brought with it a great sense of relief. I would die. They could not torment me indefinitely without giving my body sustenance. I would die, and right then I was thankful for it.

But they stopped, bringing the torture session to an end, and I was thrown back into the dungeon.

I did not even realize it was over when iron door was slammed back into place. I noticed the absence of new pain first. Then suffered the searing agony of the wounds inflicted upon me as my weakened body tried to fully repair the damage.

Whimpering into the floor I tried to feel through the bond. I was tied to Breandan in a way that defied the laws of nature. He would be able to feel my distress and he would follow me here – wherever here was – and rescue me.

I whimpered and it hurt my chest. Still he was so far.

The energy I’d gathered dissipated and I stifled a sob. Why so far? Why was he not much closer? Surely he would have realized I was gone and would feel the absence of me. Already I felt more than a niggle, telling me to go find him. It felt like an insatiable itch beneath my skin, a habit I needed feed to feel better. He would feel it too so why was he not on his way?

“Damn the gods,” a tearful voice said. I heard the shifter twin’s feet pad over to where I lay. I could not open my eyes. They were swollen shut. “Help me get her up. Bring me that water there. Oh! Ta, Runt.”

I felt my head being propped up and stale water trickled into my mouth. Swallowing was painful and after a while, I stopped and let it run down the back of my throat until my gag reflex choked me.

Amelia touched a hand to my neck, checking the strength of my pulse. “Can you move?” she asked and brushed the hair back from my face. “We don’t even have a blanket to wrap you in or spare water to wipe the blood away. Your beautiful face–” her voice cut off and her breath hitched. “Your wings,” she whispered.

I scrunched my eyes closed at the mention. The burning centered between my shoulder blades was reminder enough of what had been done to my wings.

There was a scratching noise and a faint shuffling, as if feet were reluctantly dragging. Then it morphed into the slap of footsteps as the person drew nearer.

I felt light pressure on my back as if someone had poked me. I felt the mildest of irritation overwhelmed by fear. My eyelids jerked open and I found a last surge of energy to recoil from the figure hovering over me. The shadow squeaked and scuttled back. Runt watched me with a fear in his expression that mirrored my own.

After a moment his trembling stopped. I groped behind me until my hand connected with the curved wall. I dragged my aching body back and leaned against it. I lay my head in my knees, wrapped my arms around my shins, and bit my lip in pain as my wings curled over to cocoon me. Pockets of light seeped in through the ragged holes in the thin membrane, damage from the Clerics knives. Rather than shining gold they looked dull brown, torn and tattered like crumpled paper.

There were no tears, my eyes were dry, but they were so itchy they burned, and my breath was raspy. A sob choked from my throat and echoed through the dungeon. I felt so pitiful and broken I didn’t think I had enough strength to care that there was a strong chance the end was dreadfully near for me.

I would not have moved had he not stroked me so gently. It was as if a light breeze had disturbed my hair. I looked up and saw Runt’s huge orb-like eyes blinking at me. When I saw his long lashes were spiked, wet with tears in an instant I held out my arms and he crawled into them to cry on my shoulder. This boney thing in my arms was more comfort that I could have imagined possible. He was like chicken wire, digging into me, and I shifted a few times before I found a position that was comfortable enough to hold him.

I cleared my throat and announced to the darkness, “I know he’s coming for me. Whatever’s holding Breandan up is only temporary, but I can’t wait. We need to think up a plan to get out of here.”

“You don’t think we’ve tried,” Nimah scoffed.

“Obviously you weren’t trying hard enough,” I shot back, tearfully. “We can’t stay here. I can’t go through … that again.”

Amelia whispered, “I don’t think any of us can.”

We were all quiet for a long time after that. Hours passed, and we half-heartedly bounced ideas off each other, but never did our plans get us further than calling the Clerics in and fighting them. Each time we got excited one of us would remember how easily they had subdued us before they had taken me. We couldn’t get the manacles off our necks because of the iron and silver draining our strength, and picking the locks was out of the question. What were we picking them with? We would have to fight hindered by chains, and with less strength than we were used to. It wouldn’t work, we all knew it.

It was … strange to go from knowing I had the potential to be an unbeatable demon, to being unable to hold a one on one fight with a human because of some metal.

I knew in the core of me that Breandan would come for me. I simply had to survive until then.

Most of the day passed in silence.

My body healed, fixed the damage to the point of where I only ached a little, but soon I stopped checking the places they had cut me. My fingers kept finding lumps and bumps of new flesh. Scars. Lots of scars riddled my skin. Feeling tears well in my eyes, my breath hitching, I stopped thinking about it.

I was alive wasn’t I?

I suppose I should have been grateful for the rest, but my mind was in turmoil. Was this where they had kept Maeve when they had taken her? I would ask the twins when they woke, for now Amelia and Nimah slept, curled together, comforting each other.

Runt stayed by my side, snuffling occasionally, but was otherwise quiet. I tried to coax him into a conversation several times, and whilst it was clear he understood me he did not talk back.

If the Clerics had tortured him like me, I could understand that he might be mentally damaged. As far as I was aware, goblins did not heal fast, but were exceptionally strong and beast like. Most were horribly disfigured, but Runt looked human, for the most part. His ears were a little too pointy, and his features a little too spacious, but passable. His lack of speech became frustrating, as I knew nothing about him, but had many questions. I remembered vaguely that Ro, a fellow Disciple and Lex’s steady, had said he caught a goblin-child hiding out near a church in the slums the day before I had met Breandan. Was this the goblin he had caught? Amelia had said Runt was a half-breed. Half-human? What was half-human goblin doing in the middle of the slum dwells? Did he get lost? Even then how on earth would he have gotten past the Wall? Was he left there by his demon family? How did they go undetected by the Sect?

All of these questions went unanswered since Runt would not speak to me.

Again the door to our prison was shoved open, and three Clerics filed in. Three of them … could we manage it?

The shifter-twins shot up, instantly wide awake, alert. Runt scooted closer to me, his hand slipping into mine. My heart hammered in my chest, wondering who they had come for.

They did not attack us this time, but the Cleric I had thought handsome did speak. “We are going outside,” he said firmly then unshackled my manacle and tugged on the chain until I stood. “We’re just going outside,” he repeated when he did the same to the shifters.

They left Runt chained, and I opened my mouth to ask why, but closed it again. We were being taken outside, but why? Intuition told me that for whatever reason the goblin would be safer here. I swallowed hard. If staying in here was safer, what did that mean for Amelia, Nimah, and I?

When we left the dungeon, we turned and walked in the opposite direction of the white room. I consciously relaxed a tad. We were moving upward, closer to the earth’s surface, I could tell. In my excitement I sped up, ignoring when the chain about my neck tugged.

Reaching the end of the passageway, the Clerics unbolted the heavy steel door and swung it open.

I hurriedly stepped through it, and a cool breeze blew into my face, and through the strands of my hair. I sighed in pleasure. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, and I was disappointed. Somehow, the sunlight had become stronger than the dark in my mind. I needed it to chase away the fear and pain, but I could not reach it.

As if the sky above was mine to command the clouds parted and a ray of light streamed down to softly caress my face and warm me. I gasped and let my eyes flutter closed, basking in the heat and purity of it. It was dusk, the sun slowly setting, and yet it had never shone brighter.

So lost in this comforting moment was I, I did not feel the clump to the back of my head until the dull throb registered.

The light cut off and it was for a moment utterly dark. But that was because my eyes were pressed closed, my body hunched, waiting for the next blow to land. I was not hit again, but pushed forward to catch up with the other two.

Sputtering fire drums were set alongside were pathway that snaked round Temple. Each one flickered, coming to life as the sun puttered out for the day. Electricity was hard to generate, and the Sect only used it when every other option was exhausted. Most light came from burning wood in the fire drums and candles. The electricity generated from the wind turbines spotted across human land went into keeping the Wall charged. As the Clerics lead us through the main gate my eyes darted over the Temple grounds and I felt a pang of longing for the life I had been forced to leave behind. The Wall was visible in the distance, peeking out from the forest that called to me. Outside – demon territory – was once a place that held nothing but terror for one such as me but was now, and forever my home.

The Clerics stopped and took black hoods out from their pockets. Nimah and Amelia glanced at each other, their hands fisted … ready to go down fighting. I remembered that Maeve had been hooded when Devlin and I freed her when she had been taken by the Clerics. Perhaps they were going to take us through the forest like they had her? My heart tripped. It would be the perfect place and time to escape.

“It’s okay,” I said to the shifter twins, and ducked my own head in submission.

The handsome Cleric looked surprised, but placed the hood gently over my head. I couldn’t see anything through the thick material. After a slight pause my chain was tugged gently and I moved forward carefully, planting my feet so as not to fall and choke myself. We walked up stairs, over what felt like marble floor and then down steps, across patchy grass.

I frowned, becoming somewhat alarmed.

Okay … we were at Temple. Not outside it, or next to it, or beneath it … but standing in the main courtyard in the centre of the main building. I had grown in this place and I knew its layout like the back of my hand. Oh! We climbed wooden steps. This was new … the courtyard I remembered had a path through it that split into an oval to allow for five huge boulders in the centre, before the path came together again to lead to the other side. From the dull thuds my feet made on the ground I assumed we stood on a wooden platform.

The hood was pulled off my head and I blinked, scowled. Being the shortest person in the group I couldn’t see over the Clerics broad backs. I stood on my tiptoes to see over their shoulders. I blinked again, repeatedly, stunned.

Several hundred pairs of young human eyes stared at me, and I stared back.

The Sect Disciples looked terrified, confused. They stood in formation, a sea of green blazers and heaving chests. Some of the girls choked back sobs, their fear getting the better of them. Boy Disciples tended to leave their chests bare under the green blazers, but most wore jumpers now the days were getting colder. The girls were wrapped up too, but still rocked their blazers shorn at the elbow or tied around the waist to show off their lower stomach and back tattoos; protective marks stolen from defeated witches.

“Rae?” Ro’s voice was a razor across my eardrums. I heard no hate in his voice, only pain and loss.

Skin milky-brown, his ebony hair was plaited back in thick cornrows. His black-rimmed eyes always looked overly large in his lean face, and his blazer hung open to show his naked chest, belly piercing, and slum-tribe marks. His jeans were worn and slashed at the knee, boots scuffed and unlaced.

He looked confused.

Cleric Tu paced in front of the Disciples. “The best lessons are those learnt in action. There is only so much the Sect can teach from behind a desk.” He pointed to a clear box behind him. “This is the cage.”

It stood twenty feet tall, and thirty wide on the wooden platform we stood on. There was a small panel with buttons fixed to one side, wires trailing down into the floor. I squinted; I could see a faint outline of a door. A door powered by electricity, why? And well, that was it. It was just a box of glass. Okay….

“Here you will learn what you must face Outside. Once a month on Demon Day you will face our greatest enemy. You will learn exactly how terrifying it can be to fight these creatures.” He spun and jerked his chin toward the shifter twins. “We’ll use one of them first.”

The crooked nosed Cleric dragged Amelia by her chain. He punched a code into the keypad and the glass door slide smoothly slid up. I knew in the past humans had made wondrous mechanical things, and I had to admit, I was grudgingly fascinated. The Cleric pushed a hesitant Amelia into the glass box, and made quick work of shackling her in the centre. She shot worried looks around her, not quite sure what was going on. The Cleric left the box but the door remained open.

“Change demon,” Cleric Tu barked.

Amelia bared her teeth, launched herself at him only to come to the end of her chain and bounce back. She strained forward, and I could see the frisson of fear and panic in her actions. Sighing, the crooked nosed Cleric unhooked his baton from his belt, and her knees knocked together.

Cleric Tu motioned to her his hand. “Change,” he repeated.

I wanted to yell at her to do what they said, but I saw the resolution in her eyes, watched as her jaw set in determination. She stepped back and crossed her arms, daring him to make her.

Nimah was going ballistic beside me, but the silver stopped her from getting far or doing more than growling and cussing. The Cleric jabbed Amelia in the back and she jolted. The second blow stunned the back of her legs and she stumbled, but held her ground. The Cleric glanced back at Tu who nodded his head solemnly. The Cleric set to work, jabbing her in the back, thighs, and arms. Amelia tried to out maneuver him. She pummeled her fists on the wall, shrieking. She raced around the box, looking for an out as he chased after her.

Gasps of horror drifted over the sound of Amelia’s pain from the watching crowd, and a few Disciples openly sobbed.

Ro’s eyes were locked on me, considering, vacant. In discreet bouts, his eyes roamed the space around me, but when he did not find who he was looking for they came back to me. I knew who he looked for and it killed me that he would never see her again.

A shrill cry snapped my attention back to Amelia. She hunched over, limbs, and muscles quivering. The Cleric backed away, his job done.

“No!” Nimah cried.

Amelia screamed, not mentally prepared for her shift and her scream turned into the piercing yowl of a cat as her mouth lengthened into a maw and her arms and legs shortened, spine popped and rippled. Her clothes tore to ribbons as her body grew in mass and density. There was a petrified screech from the crowd as Amelia grew a tail and sprouted ocher fur. Fully shifted into her cougar form she snarled.

Though she was larger than some of the shifters I had seen on the Pride, her face most resembled the smaller felines humans kept as pets. Scratching at the glass, her patchy white underbelly pressed into the cage as she drew herself up on her back legs, large rear paws prancing to keep her balanced. Repeatedly she pounded the glass with her heavy fore paws from a higher level. She was enraged, half mad as she paced the box, threw herself bodily into the walls. Each time she tried to leap out the open door her chain stopped her. Her tail, short fur dark as if dipped in ink, thrashed back and forth.

I could feel how pissed she was.

Cleric Tu turned round to face the shaken Disciples. “See. Do you see the monsters they are?”

“Stop it,” I said. “You’re scaring them.”

Despite the softness of the plea the whole courtyard fell silent. Cleric Tu’s shoulders hunched but he quickly straightened and barreled into the silence. “I have spoken to the Priests,” he said in a jarringly calm voice. “They have agreed these sessions will benefit you in the weeks to come.”

“You can’t do this,” I choked, horrified.

“I need a volunteer,” he said. “I need one of you to come up here and show this abomination,” his finger jerked to the cage, “exactly who the superior species is.” There was silence, no movement. “I know you’re frightened, and I know it seems barbaric–”

“That’s because it is,” I said through my teeth.

He ignored me. “This needs to be done. You have been protected at the cost of lives.” His voice broke and I knew he thought of the Lady Cleric who Tomas drained because he was hungry after waiting for me in Bayou dorms. Maybe I would have felt bad about that if she hadn’t been on a mission to kill me for just existing. “You have forgotten that every day we have to fight to stay alive. That we are trapped behind a fence that no longer keeps the danger away. These monsters have even mange to infiltrate the Temple.” His finger swung to point at me accusingly. “This demon hid in plain sight for years. Had the gall to leech of our resources as she plotted to kill us off one by one.”

I made a noise that crossed a snarl with a groan. It was an odd sound I was mildly embarrassed to have made. “That’s a lie.” My hands fisted in anger. “If I had wanted to kill you you’d be dead. I’m looking forward to rectifying that mistake.”

My words were nothing but the truth. I had never meant to hurt anybody. I wanted to protect them.

His hands beat on his chest. “Even now she stands there and threatens me.”

“Because you’re a fool. You’re trying to brainwash them into thinking they have no choice but to be murders.”

“Who are you going to believe? The lies of a demon, one of them? Or me, your teacher, your protector.”

“More like you’re a rambling, mad man,” I snapped trying to get my point across. “Gods, can’t you see you don’t have to listen to him.”

The Disciples barring Ro swelled back.

I realized then what they saw. Wild hair, talons for fingers, the wings of a dragonfly fluttering at my back as my tail thrashed from side to side in agitation. They were not seeing me, Rae. They saw a demon, something to fear and mistrust. I pulled on my glamour, making myself look human, but it was a foolish thing to do. They had already seen the true me.

“See!” Cleric Tu screeched and pointed at me. “See how they deceive us.”

Uneasy murmurs rippled through the crowd.

A Disciple I recognized, Jono, stepped forward aggressively pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but Ro’s beefy arm shot out to halt him.

His expression was cold, hard. “I’ll do it,” he said quietly.

With slow deliberate steps, he walked up to Cleric Tu. His tee shirt was hitched up over one shoulder, exposing his chest marks. His low slung jeans showed a strip of boxer. Ro always had been ripped, big, but the idea of him going against a were-cougar was ridiculous. He passed by me, and I clasped his upper arm. I felt a prick of disgust; after all he was a human and I had no connection to him other than I knew my best friend had once loved him. And there was something else, something darker lurking beneath the surface.

“You’re making a mistake.” I looked him in the eye, pleading with him to see reason. “This won’t end well.”

Ro tugged his hand from my grasp and got up in my face. “You need to keep your hands off me, freak.”

Shocked, I stepped back, truly taken aback by the hate in his gaze.

Turning his head he spat in disgust then turned away to look at Cleric Tu, who offered him a baton and a gun. “The demon is chained with silver. End this threat.”

I blanched.

Ro pushed the weapons aside. “Don’t need them to put the hurt on her.”

He flexed, rolling his head round. He walked round the glass box, checking Amelia out. Still chained by the neck she did nothing but sit silent and still, her eyes filled with crisp intelligence, watching him as he watched her.

Was there a way I could stop this? I was outnumbered and to be honest, I was afraid. The crowd looked at me with open fear and distrust. I had never been popular, had always been the oddball but never had such loathing been directed my way. My being was sensitive to the hostile vibe pulsing from the crowd. The smell of fear was pungent, upsetting. My nature cried out, nudged me to make it right even as my mind sought out Breandan again, seeking the comfort of him. He was still far away, still closed from me though I knew he was unharmed, wherever he was. I pulled myself back to the now.

I had to do something, not just for Amelia but for Ro too. He may not want my help but he was going to get it. I owed Lex that much at least. I may die a prisoner, unable to avenge her life, but I could at least ensure someone she cared about was kept safe.

Ro was led into the box. Amelia did not move though I saw a tightening of her muscles. Ro bent his knees, slid around, keeping himself on the balls of his feet, gaze locked on the demon before him. Ro was not a small boy. Easily topping six foot, he was built and probably weighed four of me. He knew how to handle himself. Not only did the Disciples naturally have stronger, faster, and more resilient bodies and minds, training at the Temple was designed to hone these skills. To turn them into Hunters, and stalkers that could go toe to toe with demons in a fair fight.

But the simple fact of the matter was the Sect had not seen the true might of the demons they so feared.

In reality, I knew if I were in a fight with Ro, I would eviscerate him by hand, or simply end him with magic, should I be so inclined. I snorted. If I could touch the Source of focus for long enough that is. In my iron poisoned state it would be a fair fight, just like now with Amelia being drained with silver her reactions would be sluggish, slower than normal.

Shifters possessed the same strength and mental capabilities as a human, and they had the same power in their changed form as that animal. I had no doubt that Amelia or Nimah could meet other cougars in the wild and beat them, but it would be a case of higher intelligence than strength. If they ever came head to head with a bear, say, they may have a hard time of it.

What I was looking at was a young girl who had been beaten, humiliated, publicly flogged, poisoned, and now was being forced to fight a boy who was blinded by hate.

“Stop this.” It was a command. I was done being nice. “Now.”

Cleric Tu smirked. “And what are you going to do?”

“You have no idea what I am capable of.”

“We captured you easy enough.” His eyes flicked over my circlet thoughtfully. “You’re important to them, aren’t you? They’ll come for you.”

Knowing he was after information, I gritted my teeth and said nothing.

He sneered, crossed his hands over his chest. “I’ll take your silence as a yes, shall I? Good. I want them to come. It is long past time we rid ourselves of your kind.”

“It’s people like you that make it difficult to defend the human race,” I spat. “You’re pathetic. Let them out of that cage, now.”

Tu paced forward and pressed his nose to mine. “Or what?” His eyes were wild, glazed. His hand snaked out grab my throat and tug me closer. My entire body shuddered in disgust and I jerked my head away. He tipped his head to whisper in my ear. “You should me more concerned of what will happen to you once you’re thrown back in your hole. I wonder how long it would take before I got you to show me your wings again.”

Icy cold fear clutched my heart before it was replaced by a burst of rage, hot, blinding rage that whiplashed across my frayed emotions.

“What’s this?” There was a heavy pressure at the back of my neck then a snap. Cleric Tu held the key to the grimoire, my amulets in his fist, frowning at it.

I reacted before any thoughts of caution had been formed.

A trickle of my magic, gathered from being outside in the sun, released in a punch of light and heat. The chains unraveled from my hands, my neck, and coiled on the floor. My glamour dropped as I lunged forward, and a powerful beat of my wings added crushing force to the impact of me pushing Cleric Tu off the platform, and putting him flat on his back. Someone screamed. Straddling him high on the chest, my hands found his neck a moment later and I squeezed.

“My binds, Rae,’ Nimah ordered. “Quick, before they....”

I refused to hear her. I had no other thought than to rip this man’s head from his shoulders.

I lifted his head a fraction from the floor and bashed it down.

His hands scrabbled at mine as his lips turned blue. I sank my fingers in; satisfied when my talons pierced his skin, and warm blood trickled over my fingers. I found it more difficult to keep him down since I was still weak from the iron, but my rage and the reviving flare of magic was enough so that we were evenly matched.

The blow to my head knocked me sideways and sent me sprawling. Recovering, I rolled up onto all fours and shook my head, hissing when a boot slammed into my side. Another landed on the middle of my back forcing me down to the ground, and pushing my face into the cold concrete.

“That’s enough for today,” Cleric Tu said and jumped up, a hand on the back of his head, face red. “Separate her from the others, and call the Priests. We have work to do.”