Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1) (14 page)

BOOK: Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1)
6.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

The demons stopped before a large gate.

In moments it swung open, and the demons hurried through.

Inside the enclosure was row after row of rickety stone or stick hovels cobbled together like no thought had been given to longevity.
They must not have a long life-span.
The entire area resembled a living ghost town that was still somehow thriving against all odds.

As we passed, more beasties stuck their heads out of the shacks, and even more followed us.

Every muscle in my body tightened, screaming to escape, to lose consciousness, to claw out my own eyes—
anything
to make this all disappear.

Please, please, make this go away!

I willed myself not to cry, swallowing back the stinging tears again and again, forcing myself to keep seeing.
Make yourself live
,
Phoebe. You have to do this!

The demons brought me into a large arena separated from the rest of the living quarters by a huge circle of smooth, onyx stones. The rocks were perfectly round and sat aligned, one about every two feet, like evil sentinels. As we passed through the boundary, I shivered and my reflexes convulsed uncontrollably.

A large lava pit churned in the middle of it all, with several contraptions rigged beside it.

Nothing good will happen here.

A huge throne, carved out of the same black onyx stone, sat with malice to one side. Just beyond the large chair lay several boulders with smooth tops, like long tables.

Or altars
.

The beasties marched over and threw me down onto the smooth boulder closest to the bubbling pit of lava.

It was stained with a sticky, dark residue and smelled like death.

More bile
.

Four minions held my arms and legs steady, while others brought up some material hanging from the sides and proceeded to restrain my wrists and ankles. The cloth was the same burlap mesh they all wore. When they were done, I was immobile. The fabric was harsh and unforgiving, scraping against my already sensitive skin.

Even though I was restrained, I struggled. “You bastards, let me go!” My movements were getting stronger and stronger by the moment. The spell was definitely waning.

Too little, too late.

Then, without warning, the demons parted like water as something lumbered toward me, its footfalls vibrating the ground.

I spotted its terrible sword first.

The blade was curved and at least three feet long. But it wasn’t metal.

It was made completely of flames.

Orange flickers lashed out of it, dancing along the invisible edge, jumping with a fiendish intensity. The color of the licking heat matched the color of all the demons’ eyes as they peered at me, awaiting my death, yearning for it.

The thing coming was as big as Junnal, but that was where the similarities ended. Its skin was charred black, like the rest of the minions, but its face was more human-shaped—oblong rather than round. Its eyes blazed a hideous, deep red, but the very worst was its nose. In place of a normal nose were three terrifying slits. It opened its maw, and not one, but two forked tongues lashed out as it spoke.

“You. Human girl,” it rumbled. “Trespass. My land.” It slapped its chest, in case I wasn’t sure whose land it was talking about.

It spoke English?
Please tell me this isn’t a demigod!

I blinked. It was all I could do. This beast was the most terrifying thing I’d ever set eyes on in my entire life.

The demons gathered closer, crowding toward me, not wanting to miss any of the impending action. They were more aggressive now that their boss-man was here, and they wrestled each other for a prime viewing spot.

“Me. Surtr,” he boomed in a gravelly tone, which sounded less like rocks in a blender and more like his tongues regularly got stuck in the back of his throat.

He didn’t wait for me to answer before arcing his fiery sword down on me, sweeping it along the length of my body.

I screamed as my skin bubbled and burned.

The flames licking me were hotter than anything I’d ever felt before. My skin steamed, blisters and blood erupted. The pain was overwhelming. My eyes rolled back in my head. I was one breath away from passing out.

“Weak. Not Valkyrie,” Surtr bellowed.

“Please!” I cried, forcing myself to stay awake, to
endure
. “Please, let me go. I didn’t come here on purpose, I swear. I wasn’t trying to trespass. I just want to go home. If you let me go, I’ll leave this place and never come back!”

“No.” He paced menacingly in front of me, swinging his awful, flaming sword of doom too close for comfort. “Price for you. Too high.”

“I have money,” I pleaded. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Verdandi will have…when I finish.”

“Don’t do this. If you torture me, I won’t survive!”

“Silence!” Surtr commanded. He raised his hand aloft, and his beasties flooded around him, cheering, shaking their stick fists in the air. He peered at me, his tongues grotesque as they alternated in and out of his mouth—a mouth filled with razor-sharp black teeth. “Human blood…is
good
. We take flesh…before deliver to hag.”

“No, please,
no
,” I moaned while squirming in earnest, the fabric chafing deep bloody furrows into my wrists and ankles. “If you do, I swear I won’t make it. If I die, Verdandi will be angry.” She probably didn’t care one iota if these demons killed me. They would’ve done her job for her. “I’ve seen her wrath, and it’s terrible. You don’t want to get close to that! I’m human, like you said. I won’t survive!”

Surtr shot his head back, and something close to laughter boiled out. “You will…thank us…human.” He sounded like death. “We will not…roast you…like others. Close to death…but not dead.”

There would be no thanking going on.

He meant to torture me, just like Fen said.

Surtr turned and issued commands in his language. The demons sprang into action.

“No,” I whispered, crying to myself. “Oh my gods,
no
.”

As the demons flittered away, busy with their new errand, Surtr stalked toward the lava pit and took a seat on his big, black, shiny throne.

I closed my eyes.

Convincing myself to rally wasn’t anywhere in my mind.

Instead, my thoughts went to my mother and father, my friends, my life. It all flickered before me in sharp detail. Christmas morning the year I got my first bike, the red one I had asked for. Splashing in the lake near our home on a warm summer day. My father’s infectious laugh. The year I made the swim team and broke two longstanding records while my parents proudly looked on. My first, sweaty kiss behind the hardware store and the feeling of the tingles as they shot to my toes.

Too much to lose
.

I wasn’t sure if I’d blacked out or not, but when I opened my eyes, several demons were leaning over me, each fisting sharp objects that resembled shards of flint. They also carried small bowls chipped out of dark stone. The bowls were gritty and stained, and the smell coming from them was rancid. Like everything else around here.

It felt like hours had passed, but I couldn’t be sure.

I wrenched my head in the direction of the throne. It was empty.

Please don’t die
, I begged myself.
You can do this, Phoebe. You have too much to lose
. My mother’s voice floated in my ear, left over from a dream that had just dissipated. One that I’d dreamed many times before in my youth. She was sobbing, clutching me as an infant. She wouldn’t let go.
We love you, Phoebe. Please, live.

The demons began to touch me, and I screamed, “Get away from me, you little creeps!”

“Greeza.” They all chortled as they brought the flints down to my exposed skin. “
Hurt
.”

“Oh, now you decide to speak English? It’s too late to try to get on my good side. You’re all going to pay. Every last one of you! I promise—”

Multiple flint pieces sliced my body at once.

One of the minions raked a piece down my battered arm, tearing a deep, continuous, jagged line from the top of my shoulder to my wrist. The demon’s eyes flared hungrily, its mouth greedy, its hateful tongue flashing in and out in delight.

Blood gushed from the wound, and the pain was beyond excruciating. I gasped for air, screaming and shouting in agony. The demons ignored me. Instead, they placed bowls under my body to better catch the gushing blood.

“Please, no,” I moaned, shaking my head side to side. A sharpness pierced my thigh. I was going to lose my mind. “
NO
!” My voice hoarse. “You don’t understand. I’m not going to survive! Surtr, you will have nothing to give Verdan—”

Agony seared my legs as they gouged and cut, my blood spilling onto the altar, splashing into the bowls.

I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

The demons paused, and I rushed to catch my breath. My throat thick and raspy. “You’re done, right? That’s enough. Torture complete.” I had no idea why I was still conscious. The pain had eclipsed into something else, something I didn’t have a name for. “Please, stop,” I whispered, my voice full of pleading. “You’re killing me.”

“Take her flesh,” a voice roared. Surtr’s footsteps pounded toward the altar. “Her flesh…with her blood.” He spoke something in his language, and the demons jumped at his command. They peered down on me with opened mouths, hovering closer, their faces ablaze with anticipation.

“You don’t need my flesh. The blood is enough—”


Take it
.”

A demon hungrily lowered his mouth to my side. “No!
NO
! I will pay you whatever you want. My father…he will pay—” Teeth grazed my skin. A forked tongue lapped at my blood. Sharp points sank in, tearing at my flesh. My skin ripped loose in its mouth. “
Arghhhh!

Sanity-splitting agony rocked me to the core. Deep down, a current zipped through me. I could sense the energy sparking low. I was furious. I was delirious. I was out of my mind. Something was shifting in my body. Lightning struck above my head. Thunder clapped loudly, sounding terrifying in my ears.

The demon holding my flesh in its mouth, still attached to my side, flew backward.

“See?” I mumbled in a daze, barely conscious. “That’s what happens when you mess with me.” The hurt raging though my body was moments from overtaking me. The last of my energy was ebbing away, blown out in one last hurrah. I was almost happy to see it go. I couldn’t take any more of this, mentally or physically.

I was done.

The last thing I saw was Surtr leaning over me. “Not enough power…little Valkyrie. Still…too human.” He laughed. It was an ugly sound. Just before I lost my grip on reality, I heard him utter his last command. “Take…
more
.”

13

__________________________

____________

S
omeone was screaming. It wasn’t me.

It couldn’t be me.

The sound was hideous. It was a high-pitched keening, over and over again. I came to in a rush, my eyes flicking open just in time to see several demons dart away from the altar. Away from me.

That’s right, get the hell away from me!

My body throbbed, the pain immeasurable. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t dead. My entire soul screamed in wretched, numbing agony. The demons had taken flesh from everywhere. The blood loss was too much, the damage too great. I wasn’t going to make it. As it was, I was barely cognizant.

Why was I awake?

I couldn’t bring myself to gaze down the length of my battered body to see the damage. I was too scared. But I wasn’t going to be conscious for very long, so it didn’t matter.

Surtr stood over me with his sword raised.

Just end it already
.

I tried to focus on him, but my vision swam. He yelled something to his demons, but could they even hear over the horrible screeching?

Someone stop that insufferable noise!

The demons were retreating in droves, some of them running. Surtr was furious. He wasn’t paying attention to me.

That’s odd, because he’s supposed to be killing me, right?

With supreme effort, I turned my head to see what the leader of the demons glared at, snarling with his fiery sword raised for battle.

Fen? Is it Fen?

I’m sorry, Fen. But you’re too late. There’s nothing left.

Not Fen.

So
not Fen.

The thing speeding toward us looked deadly. My adrenaline jumped at the sight, even though my body was too injured to do anything about it. My eyes tightened, forcing the muscles to focus harder.

Its sleek, black body slithered along the ground, up and over obstacles like they weren’t there, crushing things in its path, lashing out with its tail, sending demons flying, demolishing shacks with one strike. I blinked.

That can’t be right. Why is everything here black? It’s a cruel joke.

It slithered closer. It had no fear.

BOOK: Struck: (Phoebe Meadows Book 1)
6.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Medea's Curse by Anne Buist
Death Drops by Chrystle Fiedler
An Italian Affair by Jodi Luann
Compromising Prudence by Marguerite Butler
Summon Up the Blood by R. N. Morris
Three Short Novels by Gina Berriault
Collared For Murder by Annie Knox
No Escape by Heather Lowell
Late in the Season by Felice Picano