Amber Silverblood: Rogue Wolf

Chapter Six

I didn't have a clock in my "room," but I never had to worry about sleeping in. Turns out, eight shadowy, wall-grown hands all pounding on your door at the same time, is impossible to sleep through even if you don't have superhuman hearing.

"Wakey wakey, girly-girl!" the Octopus cackled from the hallway. "Up and flash the early bird!"

I sat up, yawning, and stretched. I wasn't sure how much sleep I got, but it definitely wasn't enough. I got out of bed and threw on one of my less dirty sets of clothes. We have a washer and dryer down here—don't ask me where the water comes from—because, believe it or not, Hendricks is extremely OCD about his clothes. They must be washed three times a week, with exactly forty five grams of soap, for exactly sixty three and a half minutes, followed by being dried at exactly one hundred thirty one degrees and then ironed.

I should know. It's my job.

"Trick or troop, smell my poop, give me something poop poor POOP!" the Octopus yelled before collapsing in a fit of giggles.

I really shouldn't complain about the laundry though, I guess. Between stealing, murdering, and whatever other depraved activities Hendricks had planned for me, laundry was by far the least of my worries. It had the added bonus of giving me the chance to do my own laundry every week or so. If all I had to do was wash a demon's dirty jammies three times a week, I'd consider that a pretty acceptable price—especially since he rarely got them dirty in the first place. But laundry day wasn't until tomorrow, so stinky old t-shirt it was.

The Octopus was still hammering on my door, screaming increasingly nonsensical wake up calls. I scowled at the door, remembering my urge to kill him last night. He deserved it. Long before I'd been shanghaied into Hendricks' gang, they'd kidnapped my mom to use her as leverage over me. The Octopus had been her keeper, and...well, she'd woken up screaming for months after that.

KILL TEAR RIP BLEED SCREAM EAT—

I pushed the Silverblood down. That was the only thing we ever agreed on, but I didn't think that doing what it wanted would set a good precedent. Instead, I walked to the door, unbolted it, and swung it open. The Octopus' eyes widened for a split second—and then I kicked him in the nuts.

"Wakey wakey," I said, stepping over him as he lay whimpering on the floor.

I knew that if the Octopus had been sent to wake me up, Hendricks would be waiting for me. My stomach growled almost as loud as the Silverblood, though, and after taking a second to weigh the consequences, decided that grabbing something to eat first would be worth the risk. I got to the kitchen, and—

"Morning, Sugarsnout!"

I whirled with a gasp to find Dex standing at the stove, cooking bacon and eggs. The smell was enough to make my mouth water like Niagara Falls.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded.

He turned his attention back to the stove, stirring the eggs with a spatula that only looked mildly rusty. Cooking was a hobby of his, something I had been surprised to find out.

"Making breakfast, obviously," he said, sprinkling salt over everything. "It's the most important meal of the day! Never start a blood soaked massacre without it."

"You know what I mean," I snapped. I immediately kicked myself for my tone. If he thought I was being mean to him, he wouldn't offer me any. Trying to sound nicer, I said, "You're never here this early. You would have had to..."

He flashed me a grin. "Sleep here? Imagine that."

I stepped back, shocked. Out of all the people that Hendricks employed—which, admittedly, was just me, Dex, and the Octopus—Dex was the only one who didn't have to live down here. To maintain the illusion of working for Majestic, he slept in his own apartment somewhere on the surface. To think that he would choose to spend a night in this cave of horrors...