The Heart Of Asariel

16 || Black And White

Fear was all that kept Micah upright. It hung in strings from the low ceiling, wrapping around his limbs in several taut loops, cutting into his bones with every stiff movement. Beneath the pin of Rivo's pistol, Raksey's eyes gleamed with the knowledge of it.

They barely had time to react. More humans prowled into the room, a few clad in the same red-splashed black as the first while most were draped in the multicoloured fabrics he recognised from the dance earlier. Maybe the faces would have been familiar to Corinne if she were here. All he saw was a blur, a collection of predators with darkness and malice etching out their figures. And the weapons.

A woman clad in sunset reds and oranges tackled Rivo, locking an arm around his neck. He struggled, his pistol cracking another ear-splitting sound before it was wrenched from his hand. The only damage it left was a hole in the centre of the door, shredding the wood beneath the black paint, right where the scarlet serpent twisted on its other side.

The lightning jolt of panic rippled along Micah's strings. He clawed at the window behind him, bare feet slipping on the floorboards as he whirled, searching for the latch. Sweat and blood slickened his desperate fingers. A hook glinted at him from three quarters of the way up, and he reached for it, trying not to think of the drop that awaited him or his useless, throbbing wing. He had to try. It was better than being trapped in here.

His thumb had barely made contact with the latch before a horrifying click shuddered through him, paired with the press of something cold and hard against his spine. "You're not going anywhere."

A cord of fear must have threaded around his throat, too, for how difficult it became to breathe. He stared hopelessly out at the gloomy sky beyond the glass, dread squeezing his heart.

"Thugs," Lilith hissed, her anger thin and breathless. He twisted to find her also with a pistol to her back, standing stock still with her fists clenched. Her gaze was downturned.

Past her, he caught sight of Jinx, and his lungs tightened further. No longer pinned to the wall, Raksey had sauntered over to her, and now his knife grazed her cheek. He grinned. She trembled. With her wings flat to her back, she looked far smaller than even she should.

"We have a new one, I see," Raksey purred. Laying a careful hand on her shoulder, he spun around her. The velvet-black edge of her wing caught between his fingers before she flicked it free. "Bat wings. You're a fascinating little creature, aren't you?" His knife slid to her throat, hovering there as he leaned in to whisper in her ear, though his words were hardly quiet. "Mistress Rajan will be delighted with you."

The colour drained from her face, her dark cheeks a shade paler. In a wild, darting glance, her eyes met Micah's.

Guilt roiled in his chest, a brief surge that shoved aside his own fear. Another thing that was his fault. How many times had Jinx saved him from the gaping maw of consequences? Though a partner in his trouble, she'd always kept him safe, always looked out for him. And now he repaid her by tossing her right into the worst danger yet.

I'm sorry, he mouthed.

Her lips parted, then pressed together again, her lower lip folding inwards as she bit down on it. She looked away.

"Don't worry, Micah," Raksey called, shooting Micah a sly glance that implied he'd caught the silent apology. The flat of his knife tapped Jinx's chin. "I'm sure your friend here is smart enough to comply. There'll be no need to hurt her." Attention shifting to the other attackers, he jerked his head towards the door. "Take them downstairs."

A hand locked around Micah's arm, wrenching him away from the window. He stumbled, hating how much he leaned into the support as he fought to right himself. The room spun. He blinked hard, lifting a hand to his head in an attempt to steady his vision.