Descent - Tara Fuller Page 0,70
A poison-tipped set of claws raked down the back of my neck, taking its time, treating my pain as if it were an art that took time and patience to perfect.
I gritted my teeth, and despite my best efforts to hold it in, a strangled groan ripped up out of my throat. Not wanting to give them the satisfaction, I tried to swallow the sound back down, but it was too late. It was out there setting fire to the dangerous fuel in the air. The demon cackled in delight and raked his claws down my back, digging deep, ripping straight through my flesh to get to my spine. Jesus, how had I not passed out? I wanted to pass out. I wanted it so badly I would have done anything to get it.
I jerked on my chains and cursed, not able to process the words dribbling from my lips. Were they even words at this point? Probably not. I blinked, forcing my eyes to stay open, and watched Cyril hobble into the room.
“Enough!” he growled. “Your time issss up. We have to sssave some for him.”
Him? I wasn’t sure whom Cyril was referring to, but the way he said it made me damn certain I didn’t want to know. I’d delivered a lot of souls down here the past five hundred years and pissed off more demons than I could count. There was probably a line of them waiting outside that door for their turn with the infamous Easton. The demon retracted its claws from my spine, and I winced as the pressure subsided and a warm wetness soaked the back of my shirt. Blood. Good. Maybe I’d lose enough to check out for the day. Then maybe I could stop torturing myself with thoughts of Gwen, wondering if Scout had gotten her out yet. The agony of not knowing if she was safe was worse than anything they could ever do. So much worse.
Cyril looked me over, inspecting me with a disgusted look on his slimy face. “Think you can handle one more?”
I laughed. It sounded bitter and hollow even to my ears. “Does it matter if I say no?”
Cyril scowled, hobbling over to grab my chin, tilting it side to side. Probably making sure the last one hadn’t severed my spine. To my utter delight, my head didn’t roll off my body.
“If you can make jokesss, then you’re fine,” he said.
“You’re making a killing off of me, aren’t you, old friend?” I asked. “You know, you almost had me fooled into thinking you might be different.”
He cast a nervous glance back at the exit before finally leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. I shifted in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure-like pain in my back.
“You look like shit,” a familiar voice said from a dark corner of the room. I lifted my head and watched my best friend stroll into the dim light, a sad smile on his face.
“Finn,” I croaked.
He knelt down in front of me and shook his head. “What did you do, Easton? How many times did you warn me about this? How many times did you give me shit for putting it all on the line for Emma? And now you’re here…over an angel.”
I swallowed, mouth dry, lips cracked. “You’re not real.”
He cocked his head to the side, watching me with eyes so vibrant and green it made it easy to pretend he was real. That he was here.
“I’m as real as you want me to be,” he said, simply.
I wanted him to be real. It had been so long since I’d talked to Finn like this. I’d seen him before, but I had always stayed hidden, even when he’d sensed me, begged me to speak up. I hadn’t been able to get over my petty anger that he’d left me behind. That he was out in the world with a heartbeat and breath in his lungs. That I was still here, nothing more than another monster, dead, cold, detached from everything and everyone I’d ever cared about.
But now that Gwen had opened my eyes to more, I felt so fucking stupid for letting it all get in the way. And now the only way I’d get to say the things I needed to say was going to be admitting them to the empty hallucination before me.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
His brows pulled together, confused. “What for?”
“You found happiness, and I abandoned you for it. I told you to leave