Ursula gazed into his pale eyes. If she could ignore the fact that he was terrifying, he had a certain sublime beauty, his grey eyes such a stark contrast with his golden skin—warm and cold coming together, like storm clouds tinged by a rising sun. He looked like a god himself—hell, he practically was one as far as she could tell.
She wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t murder her when she removed the chains, but what choice did she have? If she didn’t get to Abrax, both she and Zee would lose their souls. “I’ll release you. If you help me find Abrax without killing me, I’ll give you your soul back.” She had no idea how to give a soul back, but she wasn’t about to mention that now. Anyway, he was immortal, and he’d never need to know.
“If you fail on your promise to return my soul, your fate will be worse than Henry’s.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“Now unchain me,” he roared.
She took a deep breath, eyeing the chains. The links were dull grey. Compared to the glowing wards that had guarded the bookcases and the door to Bael’s room, the chains appeared positively mundane.
“How do these chains hold you anyway? They don’t look magical.”
“Henry forged them with magic. You can’t see it,” said Bael with an audible sigh.
“So is there a lock somewhere?”
“Melt the links with your fire.”
She winced. She was liable to set his whole body on fire, and then she had no doubt he’d tear her limb from limb. “I don’t, um, exactly have very good control of my fire.”
“Of course. I almost forgot that you don’t know what you’re doing.”
Ursula picked up a link of chain, testing the metal with her fingers.
“I only just learned I was a hellhound a few days ago. I have no memory. Kester just showed up in my kitchen—”
“Kester? The Headsman? He lives?”
Grief flooded her, and she forced back the tears. “Not anymore. Not since a few hours ago.”
Bael growled. “You lie. I killed him at the great battle of Mount Acidale.”
“What? No. I’ve been with him the whole time. Abrax just murdered him.”
Bael’s eyes blackened again, the horns once again appearing. He thrashed on the bed, the chains around his body smoking. He screamed in frustration, but his face had returned to its beautiful, human form. Against his skin, the iron links sizzled and hissed. The room filled with the smell of burning flesh. Through gritted teeth he spoke. “Release me. Now.”
“I’m trying to, but you need to stay still.”
The chains were white hot. Whatever spell Henry had worked into the iron, it was fighting back, burning the demon. She paused, her hand inches from the smoking metal.
“It won’t burn you. Hellhounds are immune to fire,” said Bael. The only clue that he was in agony were a few clipped vowels.
Ursula closed her eyes. She needed to channel her fire. Draw just enough to melt the chain. Her stomach clenched a little. This time, if she lost herself to the flames, Kester wasn’t standing by with a fire extinguisher.
She thought of Rufus’s smug face—her old standby for calling up the hellfire—and heat began to kindle in her fingers. It’s working. Her fingers glowed, and a thrill of excitement raced through her.
On the bed, Bael lay perfectly still, probably enduring intense agony as she gathered her flames. He hadn’t taken a breath for a minute or two. Was he alive? She glanced at him, at his beautiful face that stared at her with anticipation. It was like she was trying to solve a math problem with the teacher standing just over her shoulder—an exceptionally handsome teacher. The fire in her veins sputtered and died.
“Bollocks.” She unsheathed the kaiken dagger. This, at least, she was good at.
“You know you can’t kill me with that.”
“I’m not going to kill you. I do hope you’ll return the favor.” She flipped the knife in her hand. With all her strength she stabbed downward, thrusting the tip of the dagger into the gap in one of the links. Then, with a twist, she snapped the chain in two.
Chapter 37
For the briefest of moments Bael stared at her. Was that incredulity she saw in his eyes? Red welts were seared into his arms where the chains had burned his skin. Then, like smoke caught in a breeze, he slipped free. In an instant, he gripped her shoulders, his face taught with fury, and he slammed her into the wall with the speed of a gale-force wind. His strength was terrifying. He slipped a hand around her throat and snarled, “You gave my soul to the fire goddess. You deserve to die a painful death.”
Ursula’s heart hammered against her ribs. This is it. I’m going to die. “You can’t kill me,” she stammered. “I have your soul.”
“You’re lucky I’m not at my full power, or I’d compel you to do as I pleased,” he growled. He relaxed his grip on her, but his eyes continued to bore into her. “Of course one of Emerazel’s dogs would act dishonorably.” He stepped away, glaring at her with disgust. “Stay here.”
Ursula raised her dagger in a shaking hand. “You need to take me to—”