Eyes bright with rage, Emberline fought—because of course she fought—the Overseer dragging her along in his iron grip, so tight, he was nearly breaking her arm. She snarled like an animal, stabbing her knife down into the top of the Overseer’s hand, and all the bastard did was pluck out the blade and toss it away like an annoying thorn.
“What have we here? A rescue attempt?” Unlike the guards, he didn’t wear a mask, but he did have the same brand on his cheek; the raised scar pulled, the wider he smiled. “Just when I thought your final day would be a bore, the gods serve me up you three on a silver platter.”
“Fuck you, asshole.” Emberline bared her fangs, thrashing wildly.
“Let me guess,” the Overseer’s cold eyes landed on me. “The brother… and the stolen wife.” His gaze turned even colder when it fell on Nico. “And a member of the Vendetarri. Never forget… I trained you,and I know how to break you.”
Nico snarled something foul, and a guard drove him back onto his belly.
Dante was braced upright now, his ruined body trembling. I saw his play the second before he moved, launching himself into the Overseer’s side, knocking him off balance, his grip on Ember loosening as the two big males crashed to the ground.
She slipped free, dragging another knife out of her belt, Dante hissing in pain as he tried to pin the Overseer down.
“Run, get her out of here. Please, Gabriel,save her,” he screamed before he was tossed aside, slamming against the wall.
The Overseer rose to his full height, wiping the blood dripping from his broken nose, a gloating expression on his face. “One last day,” he smiled, “one day of the worst hell you could ever imagine just got even worse, Prisoner 1445.”
19
EMBERLINE
Torches lit up a circle of hell about ten feet wide around us.
Guards slammed me into the wall, then all I could feel were their cruel, calloused hands all over me, yanking my knives free—one from each boot, one from the sheath at my thigh, another from the small of my back. A guard’s palm scraped down my ribs, found the secret blade sewn inside my jacket, and ripped that one out too, with a satisfied grunt.
All I could do was thrash as they pinched and prodded my flesh hard enough to bruise, making crude jokes, touching me where they had no right to touch, laughing at my helplessness. I kicked out, smiling grimly when one of them grunted in pain, only to be crushed against the stone hard enough to break bones.
Nico and Gabriel shouted curses at the guards manhandling me, and I swore to the gods that when I got my knives back, I would hack off every one of their fingers so they would never touch anyone like this ever again.
They stripped us of every blade, every gun with the bored efficiency of males who’d done this a thousand times and could do it a thousand more without blinking.
Nico fought hardest, shoulders thrown, teeth bared, his body all angles and violence, even without steel to back himup. Gabriel kept putting himself between Dante and the guards beating him, but there were too many.
They were too strong.
Dante lifted his head long enough to make eye contact, horror in his ruined gaze, before they tore him away and dragged him into the dark.
“Stop, where are you taking him?” I lunged for him, but a fist caught my hair and yanked me back hard enough to slam me to the ground, knocking the breath out of me. I lay on my back, struggling to breathe.
“Emberline.” Gabriel was still shouting my name when the guards hauled him away in the opposite direction, his cursing louder than the scrape of boots, the rattle of armor, the dark, sadistic chuckle of the guards.
Then Nico was gone, too, in another direction.
“Dante. Dante,we’re getting you out of here.” I screamed until my throat burned. “Gabriel.Nico.”
A hand clamped over my mouth, and rage flooded my senses. I snapped my teeth, felt leathery skin give way until I tasted blood. Then I bit down even harder, through flesh and then bone, jerking my head to the side until the digit ripped free.
The guard reeled back, swearing.
I spat his thumb onto the ground, blood coating my face.
I didn’t have time to gloat.
Another set of hands grabbed me, forcing my arms behind my back, twisting until my shoulders screamed. They dragged me down a corridor that stank like rot as I tried to keep track of all the twists and turns. But directions became a blur of darkness and rough stone walls, of sweaty hands and rank body odor, of fear and panic.
Finally, the guards stopped abruptly and slammed me into the wall, beside a cell.
Metal clanked as they opened the door. Rusty hinges squealed.
