I slammed my boot into his chest—hard—and he grunted. He’d tried to break me, hadn’t he?
Fury erupted in my blood, and I kicked him harder this time—right in the ribs. He flew into the wall—not far from the chains.
Rip him to pieces. Drink his blood.
In the next second, I had my knife pressed against this throat. My lips curled back from my teeth. I needed to use words, couldn’t remember them. I snarled.
“Knife,” I managed to grunt. “Poison. More.”
Good. Threat conveyed.
That damned peaty haze clouded my mind, the scent of dirt and moss. What was it I needed here? What did I need except this creature’s blood and pain, and the glorious fresh meat filling my mouth, and the feel of fingers clawing into the dirt? What did I need apart from the beautiful, dark-winged man with the pale eyes?
Yes…him… I needed him to tear my clothes off and run his tongue over my body, needed him to grab me hard by the hips and fill me... Needed my fingers in the dirt, hands and knees on the ground before him.
I clenched my jaw tight. I couldn’t think straight through the haze in my mind.
My prey rallied, punching me hard in the cheek, and I groaned, nearly dropping my knife.
A wild snarl tore from my throat. I gripped my knife tighter, swinging wildly to nick him again. I pierced his skin through his clothes, right below his elbow. He bellowed like an injured animal. And with that, my knife was at his throat once more, pressing harder this time.
Capture your prey. Then toy with it.
Without entirely realizing what I was doing, I found myself chaining the creature’s arms to the walls with one hand. I kept the poisoned blade pressed against his throat, while my other hand snapped the cuffs around him.
He hissed at me, more bestial than angelic. In my feral state, I delighted in the fear in his eyes—this powerful man at my mercy. Fear rippled off him, so intense I could practically smell it. Fear was something even Feral Ruby understood.
No wonder he kept such fierce control over everyone. No wonder he tortured them, kept them terrified. They scared the shit out of him.
He was screaming at me, but I tuned out his cries, stepping back to look at my conquest.
That thing I needed from him… That thing that wasn’t blood.
I closed my eyes, trying to clear the haze, but his words were drowning out my own thoughts.
“You don’t know where the stones are, Ruby,” he roared. “And without them, you can’t kill me. I don’t know where Adonis is. But I do know who is flying fast for my castle. The Heavenly Host.”
I stared at the trickle of blood oozing from the nick in his throat, trying to make meaning out of his words.
“Flying fast,” I repeated.
A sharp, panicked laugh escaped his throat. He rasped, the poison seeping deeper into his bloodstream. “You’re not really there, are you, Ruby? Does Adonis know he’s been fucking an animal?” He sniffed the air. “Can’t say I wouldn’t mind trying it myself, in your case, though I’d hate myself after.”
I clamped my eyes shut, trying to gain control. The pig was right about one thing—I wasn’t myself right now. I needed the roaring of my primal side to go quiet.
“Garden,” I snarled, still unsure why I was saying the word. There was something I wanted to get at—an important idea of some kind.
Another little bubble of clarity began to penetrate the peaty haze in my skull.
I surveyed my victim. Feral Ruby had done well. If I hadn’t poisoned the fucker, he’d be able to break right out of those iron chains. But the Devil’s Bane had weakened him severely, and he was barely hanging on.
What had he said? I couldn’t kill him without the stones.
Right. The stones. If the gods-damned Heavenly Host were actually on their way right now, I needed to find out where the stones were, and I needed to make the blue shield. Just like I’d seen in the pictures.
I stepped back from Aereus, marching over to the iron tools on the torture table. They would hiss and sting when I picked them up, but they wouldn’t poison me unless I nicked my own skin. I walked down the line of torture instruments. Slowly, the power of speech began returning to my mind.
I stared at a two-pronged iron instrument. “Sharp,” I said.
“What are you planning on doing?” Aereus bellowed. “The Heavenly Host are on their way. If you hurt me, your death will be agonizing. They’ll keep you alive for centuries, torturing you until there’s nothing left of your mind or soul.” He was threatening me, but raw fear tinged his voice, and it warmed my heart.
A little more of the haze dissipated in my mind. “Which sharp thing?” I asked.
“You’re not thinking clearly.” His desperation reverberated around me.
“I want to hurt you.”
“You can’t hurt an archangel. It’s against the rules of nature. We reign supreme over your kind. We are gods. You’re a filthy beast who scrambles and fucks and feeds in the dirt.”
I pulled the edge of my sleeve over my hand so I could pick up a three-pronged instrument, like a tiny devil’s pitchfork. “This one.”
Just enough haze in my mind right now that I could be brutal, but not so much that I’d forget what I was doing.
“What do you want?” he screamed.
I cocked my head. “No one can hear you in here. You told me that. No one will find you.”
“Don’t hurt me.” He sagged in his iron chains. “What do you want from me?”
“Tell me where the stones are.”
“You must be out of your fucking mind if you think I would tell you that.”
I was looking into his eyes as I thrust the iron into his side, between his ribs. His scream rent the air. “I need to know. Now.”
Aereus heaved a sob. “The seeds of destruction grow in the gardens of paradise. Heavenly Host, please come for me now, your humble servant. I need to rule as a god on earth!”
Garden.
That was why I’d been saying the word over and over. Aereus, as he’d told me, took that aphorism very seriously. And I was his destruction, wasn’t I? I’d lay his plans to waste.
He shook his head. “You can’t use them. You’ll destroy everything. You’ll kill—”
I was out the door before he had the chance to finish his sentence.
Chapter 34
With the shield of glamour around me—a cherub’s form—I prowled through the hall. I ignored the bruised, battered pain that throbbed along my ribs.
I’d disguised myself as one of the taller cherubs—the ones without predictable movements. With any luck, I could go where I wanted without rousing suspicion.
I moved swiftly through the hallway, heading for Aereus’s garden. When I caught a glimpse of myself in a statue’s armor, I shuddered at the sight of the milky eyes staring out from the face of a haunted child, silver streaks in my hair. The appearance of a gossamer white dress trailed behind me. A cold shiver rippled over my skin.