The Blood Bracelets #2: Demon Born

Chapter Eight

'You're remarkably calm,' said Orsen. 'Have you already given in?'

Ace watched Orsen, keeping his gaze steady, as two other prison guards dragged Ace to his knees by a chain that linked his handcuffs to the ground behind him. There wasn't much length to the chain, leaving Ace's shoulders pulled taut when he tried to lean forward, but he didn't let the discomfort show on his face.

'I'm simply admiring your bruised face,' Ace replied.

Orsen scowled. His face was bruised, after all, and Ace took great pleasure in the fact that it had been he who gave Orsen such an impressive bruise. He would've preferred to kill Orsen, ensuring he couldn't go back to Eljae, but Ace promised himself that he would still get the chance.

The other guards stepped back, and a fourth person entered the room. It was a Sharman; Ace recognised the tribal-like tattoos across his shaved head, face and hands. Sharmans were the male counterparts to Seeresses, and employed by Immortals just the same. Ace's last encounter with a Sharman was when he stood trial to be exiled, and the Sharman used his magic to force Ace to reveal each deal he made with a demon.

Ace knew a Sharman hadn't been brought here to force any truths out of him this time, though. The Sharman cupped a velvet pouch in his hand and closed his eyes, revealing tattoos across his eyelids, then began to chant in a language Ace didn't recognise. A stream of smoke began to rise from inside the pouch, its colour shifting between purple and red, and grew thicker, darker, the more the Sharman chanted. Then it began to drift toward Ace, moving through the air like a snake through grass, and before Ace could try to shift out of its path the two other guards grabbed him by the shoulders to hold him still.

'You probably weren't around when the Head of Immortals introduced this spell, but at least you'll get to experience it,' Orsen said smugly. 'Our friend here is casting a spell that temporarily poisons your heart. Any increase in your heart rate will cause the poison to react, and I can tell you now that if you make the poison react – you'll wish you hadn't.'

Ace tried to hold his breath, but it didn't stop the poison from slipping into his mouth and nose. He felt it burn into his system and he doubled-over, the chain pulling painfully on his arms as he did. The room began to spin as the poison settled inside him, and when the Immortals let him go it only made the room spin more. He heard them leave the room, but from the corner of his eye he could see Orsen still hovering nearby.

So Ace drew in a steadying breath and sat up, meeting Orsen's gaze.

Orsen smiled. 'You're breaking out into a bit of a sweat there, exile. Something wrong?'

'Since you're asking, would you mind turning down the heating?' Ace quipped.

'Keep talking,' Orsen jeered, 'because it'll just give me a reason to find more poisons for you. You won't even be able to form a sentence.'

'Well if that's your intention, you don't need poisons or spells,' Ace replied. 'A nice bottle of whiskey will do just fine.'

Orsen muttered something under his breath and then moved towards the door, though he did so by walking backwards as if he refused to take his eyes off Ace. He didn't blame him; Ace wouldn't want to turn his back on himself at the moment either.

But Ace gave a little smile as Orsen dragged the heavy steel door closed, and Ace heard the many locks click into place as Orsen sealed him in.

Alone, Ace leaned forward and dropped his head to his chest. He tried not to think what Orsen would do to Eljae if she didn't steer clear of him, because the moment he did he felt the poison begin to burn beneath his skin as if it was boiling his blood. Instead, Ace thought about how stupid he was – stupid for somehow growing to care about the little feline girl he had been sent to hunt down.