Through Flame and Blade

Ch. 43 Lust in Hell

*Chiara

The pressing weight of the net drove Chiara to her knees at the same time as her pulse spiked, her heart a racing animal in her chest.

She dropped lower, trying to maneuver her sword to cut herself free. Her blade sawed at the ropes, but didn't cut.

A demon tisked in disapproval, stepping out from his hiding place. He called to others to come down and see what a strange fish they had caught.

Strange fish?

She hissed in response, wrath seething in her gut. She welcomed the wrath, though, that kept her so much stronger than the panic and despair that had seized her when she was taken captive long ago at the Fountain by Lucius. The black bag going over her head...

Her jaw clenched as she banished the memory. She was no longer that angel, and this was not the same battle. Daviid would tell her to take stock of the situation—the layout of the battle field, number of enemies, weapons, her advantages and disadvantages, their weaknesses.

The heavy net pinning her to the ground that couldn't be cut by her sword was definitely a disadvantage. As was being outnumbered by at least three demons.

This first room in the Halls of Lust was all shadowed, anthracite marble walls and floor, lit only by the arched entrance and the red fire of a lit sconces. Columns lined the walls, but the room was a sort of antechamber, leading to another, larger one. A balcony overlooked her, that was where the net came down from. It was a reverse mirror image of an antechamber to the angelic council rooms, gleaming greys, blacks and reds instead of cream and white.

She almost laughed out loud, despite being a prisoner. Damn, those fallen angels had been homesick toddlers when they designed their new dwelling.

Screams of death came from the arena where the Dark Flame's slaughter continued. She had to get out of this mess on her own, and fast—she didn't know who or what would be coming for her when Logan was done in Wrath.

Metallic boots scuffed on the stone floor. The demons approached cautiously.

"We will have to clip those wings of yours, my beauty," one said, bending his head to study her. "Can't have you flying off on us before we take you in for the reward."

Another scoffed. "I heard she was a fighter. I had my hopes up."

"That's not what I had up," muttered the third.

She would kill that one first. She opened her mouth to curse him—

Daviid's voice whispered in her mind. Weaknesses. Strengths. What can you use to your advantage?

Weakness...

She faked a sob, letting her sword go slack in her hand and face drop so they couldn't see her. "I don't want to go back to Zeigfel, please. Please, I'll do anything. Don't take me back to him."

"If it's a deal you want to make, my lovely creature, all you have to do is say so," one of the demons said. He reached for the end of the net as if to free her. She braced.

A bellowing cry reached the antechamber, stopping the demons for a moment. Chiara froze, fear piercing her heart.

"Chiara!" The Dark Flame bellowed her name from the arena. But if Logan came to find her while controlled by his daemonium, what would he do if found her?

Would he cut her wings?

The daemonium, opposite to the angelii, had no pity, no thoughts but to fight and kill. Logan would never hurt her, she was certain. His daemonium would rip her to pieces.