The Blood Bracelets #2: Demon Born

Chapter Eighteen

The wendigo ruptured to dust.

Ace sunk to the floor with a long, tired exhale, the steel bar that was now coated in viscous demon blood clattering to the ground beside him.

Pain throbbed through his shoulder in rhythm with his racing heart, and hesitantly he looked down to the four holes curving around his shoulder where the wendigo had latched on. They weren't clean punctures, not when the wendigo had used its grip to toss Ace across the other side of the cafeteria hall, but even though they were bleeding the bloodless was relatively slow.

Since his shirt was already ruined, Ace ripped off the sleeve and awkwardly looped it under his arm and tied it around his shoulder, like a makeshift tourniquet. It wouldn't do much good considering he wouldn't be staying still, but it'd have to do.

Ace wearily climbed to his feet, squinting when the world tipped to the side and threatened to trip him up. He was in desperate need of a good night's sleep, or at the very least a few moments to sit down and gain his breath, but he had made too much noise during the fight with the wendigos – he couldn't waste any more time.

He scooped up his makeshift weapon and trudged on, finally passing through the door to the corridor beyond. Being highly delirious when Eljae and Seth had rescued him from his isolation cell several weeks ago, he only just remembered the corridor as it split down the middle during the earthquake. Planks of wood had been laid over the wider fissures in the ground, but they creaked frightfully under Ace's feet. He could have avoided making so much noise if he tread more carefully, more slowly, but he was too aware of the clock ticking away his forty minutes, and ticking away the time it took for Orsen to take Eljae further.

He checked every door he passed, just a quick glance into each room, and then when he reached the stairwell to the isolation rooms Ace broke out into a run. He tripped once on an uprooted slab of cement, caught himself, and then leapt the last few steps to the ground floor.

The door at the bottom of the stairwell was closed, but Ace shouldered it open without a second thought. He stumbled through – and found Orsen waiting for him at the opposite end of the room.

'Where is she?' Ace demanded, his eyes sweeping the room. There were only a few fluorescent lights, but they flickered as if they could cut out at any moment and plunge the room into darkness.

There were blood stains on the floor too, but it was old. Not Eljae's.

'You've gone to a lot of effort for a little demon girl, exile,' said Orsen, scoffing. 'Something I should know about you two?'

'And you've gone to a lot of effort to capture her,' Ace replied. He folded his arms across his chest, retaining nonchalance, and said, 'Employing wendigos, are we? I don't think your Immortal pals will be too happy about that.'

'Don't for a second think I'm anything like you,' Orsen snapped, his mouth curling into a sneer. 'Because unlike you, I won't be caught.'

'You sound pretty confident considering your staring at a man who was caught himself. Immortals who break their beliefs and deal with demons are few and far between these days, Orsen,' said Ace. 'You'll stand out, believe me. The deals you make with demons aren't easy to conceal.'

'Few and far between?' Orsen repeated in amusement, and it had Ace's brow drawing in with caution. Orsen was smug as if he knew something Ace didn't; that there was some sick joke in play and Ace wasn't privy to it. 'Or, exile, is it just that we've gotten better at covering our tracks since you were caught?'

'We?' Ace repeated incredulously, but he shook his head. He didn't have time for this. 'Where the hell is Eljae, Orsen?'

Orsen reached for something behind his back, and on impulse Ace cast a time compression. It tore from him so strongly with the force in which he cast it that Ace stumbled forward, but Orsen suddenly threw out his hand and something slammed in to Ace's chest as solid as a brick wall. He crashed to his back, the wind knocked from his lungs, and he rolled painfully onto his side as he drew in a breath.