Savage Wings: Book Three of The Whitechapel Chronicles

Chapter 37

"How are you feeling?" he asked almost innocently and straight away, I knew. Whatever had happened to me, whatever the cause of my powers being rendered inactive, Brandon was only too aware of the reason why.

In a half-daze, I looked down, aware suddenly of the binds that held me, pulled tight around my chest and disabling my arms against my sides.

I hadn't imagined the jangling of chains after all.

Wound around my upper body was a heavy, oval-linked chain, black in colour and looking unlike any metal I had ever seen. It was wrapped around me three times and the more I looked at it, the more it reminded me of the black frame of Lucifer's mirror, the metal glistening like the oil-slick shine of snakes scales and utterly, utterly repellent. The metal seemed to breathe and undulate, like it was some living malevolent creature that could tighten and crush my bones at any second. The sight of it sent a wave of nausea rocking through my body and at the same time, there was something horribly familiar about it, as if I'd seen it before, maybe even touched it before.

"What is this?" I gasped.

"I must admit," Brandon answered, almost conversationally. "I wasn't sure what one chain could possibly do when Drachmann gave it to me, I never really believed, you know? But he was adamant. Said it was the only thing that would work, the only thing that would stop you from trying to fry us all alive, we just had to get it on you. And I'll be damned if he wasn't right."

"What is it?"

"In all honesty, I can't even believe I'm saying it, the thought of what it is and what it was used for – I mean, originally used for – it just seems like bloody madness. But then again, if anyone had told me my wife was an angel, I wouldn't have believed them either. Still struggling to get my head around that, by the way."

"You want to try finding out that you were sleeping with a dog all your married life," I said, narrowing my eyes.

He smiled and winked at me, despite the slur. "Hmmm, funny because I don't remember you ever complaining too much. In fact, you were always pretty vocal about how much you enjoyed it." His eyes drifted down to the slick black binds holding me. "We never did try this though, did we? I mean, obviously not with a chain, but I do quite like the idea of you being all tied up and helpless."

"Maybe we should come up with a safe word?" I replied with a sneer. "I've got one. Well actually, I have two. Fuck you."

Brandon's smile wavered a little. "I see your language hasn't improved. Still, we can easily rectify that. You'll soon learn it's better to do things my way. This will see to that." He leant forward again and ran his finger along one of the heavy links and stopped to look at his hand, rubbing the pads of his finger and thumb together as if the chain had left some sticky residue on his skin. "You can feel it, right? I mean, I know I probably can't feel it like you can, but then again it wasn't made for me so it's bound to feel different."

"Who was it made for?"

His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper, his eyes sparking with amber flecks that seemed to move and shift across his irises as if he was telling me some humorous tale that amused him. "It was made for the angels," he said. "Well, one angel in particular but apparently the power it wields works on any angel. This was made for Lucifer himself, can you believe that? Bound in the Chains of the Abyss and cast down into the fiery depths of Hell for a thousand years until he was freed to forever languish in darkness! Drachmann went on for bloody ages about it, but that's basically the gist of the whole thing. How crazy is that, Megs? It's all true, of course, but it still sounds insane. And yet here we are, well, here you are." He shifted closer on the edge of his chair so that his knees were either side of mine. "So there'll be no fire. No burning. No whatever else it is you can do. Not while you're wearing these chains."