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It’s a fucking what?
“If you kill me, the backlash hits him!” she blurts. “You'll bring him back brain-dead!”
He hesitates. “Asset integrity is secondary to retrieval.”
“Is it?” she challenges, her voice trembling but gaining a sharp, vicious edge. “You want him for Veraxia, right? She wants him to suffer for what he did? He can't suffer if he can’t even feel! Do you want to explain to her why she won’t even be able to punish him?”
I sag in the grip of my captors, blinking hard against the blood dripping into my eye.
Clever girl. You beautiful, clever fucking girl.
“Pause execution,” the Warden decides, lowering his claw. “The Asset must be cognizant for sentencing.”
My knees almost buckle under the sheer relief.
“Transport both,” it gurgles. “Containment protocols active.”
A reeking sack is shoved over my head, plunging me into immediate, suffocating darkness. I feel the pincers of the Wardens locking onto my arms, dragging me back, but I’m straining my ears, desperate for the sound of her.
“No! Please!” Eden cries out. “Don't hit me! Please, don't hit me!”
I roar, thrashing against the iron, ready to tear this entire dimension apart to get to the prick who has her screaming like that.
“I will kill you!” I bellow into the hood. “I will—”
Then a heavy blow connects with my temple, and the world goes dark.
Chapter 31
Eden
Ijerk my head up—a mistake, as the room tilts—and nearly pass right back out. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to bring my hands up to cradle my throbbing skull, but my wrists jerk to a halt.
I force my eyes open, blinking through the blur. I’m shackled, my wrists bound by heavy iron cuffs—but I’m not chained to a dripping stone wall. I’m sitting in a chair. A very expensive, very comfortable, black leather executive chair that spins smoothly on its axis as I shift my dead weight.
And sitting behind the desk opposite me is a silver-skinned woman, staring at me with a raised brow, scratching the magma-crusted head resting on her knee.
Chain-Chewer…
“You’re very fleshy aren’t you?” she muses, tilting her head to the side, snake-like pupils contracting in her golden eyes. “I never realized how meaty mortals would be when they were living. It’s… disconcerting.”
I blink again, my brain stalling out. “I—what?”
The Hellhound lets out a high, desperate whine as it strains against some invisible leash, claws skittering on the tile.
“Security Hound Three-Oh-One, heel,” she snaps.
The Hound drops its butt to the floor instantly, tongue lolling out.
“Security Hound Three-Oh-One?” I choke out.
“Yes. Not ‘Chain-Chewer’ or whatever aggressive monosyllable grunt of a name has been given to him,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. She reaches down, scratching the beast. “I’ve known this creature for most of his life. He was stolen from the family kennels quite a few centuries ago.”
She harrumphs at my slack-jawed expression and leans back in her chair, dismissing my confusion with a lazy, elegant wave of a manicured hand.
“Of course. You have no idea what’s going on. The lights are on, but clearly no one is home.” She sighs deeply. “I’m Veraxia. Veraxia Virezeal. And you, along with my idiot brother, are becoming a significant administrative headache.”
Brother…?
