A Matter of Time (The Angel Sight Series) Read Free Page B

wasted, only for it to end like this.
    I closed my eyes, saying a silent I’m sorry to Kade. I couldn’t hold out for his return. If he ever would return.
    Thoughts and facts twisted in my mind like a hurricane. A surefire sign my brain was shutting down.
    “Now I have to decide if you’re worth saving … more of my essence … or to let you die.”
    Lucien’s words only registered every few syllables, but I understood enough to claw at the dirt and mouth three words: Let. Me. Die.
    That last molecule of energy was all it took for me to let go completely. I welcomed the darkness. At least death couldn’t be as bad as Hell. Nothing could be worse than what I’d been put through these last five years down here. In the bigger picture, my death was better for the world above me. Better I was gone instead of the constant threat I posed to them if Lucien had managed to turn me into his puppet. Death would be sweeter than anything I could remember.
    But there was no sweetness here.
    Cold.
    So much of Hell had been freezing, until now. Stabs of fire-pokers burst from my stomach to my legs, up into my chest, heart, arms, and fingers. So hot. Too hot. My eyes flew open of their own volition.
    Dungeon.
    Lucien.
    Azriel.
    Hell.
    No.
    I screamed through almost un-burning lungs. I looked down to find my ripped, bloodied shirt and the rapidly closing wound beneath it. “No!”
    My body shook as I collapsed in the red dirt, clawing at it as if doing so would turn back time. Tears spilled down my face into the bloodied sand around my mouth. “Why couldn’t you just let me die?” I screamed again, finding reserves of strength that must have come from a fresh dose of Lucien’s life essence. He’d intended all along to keep me in this damned, hopeless place.
    Strong and unchained. What an interesting combination. I scrambled for Lucien’s leg. My body was still healing, but nothing would stop me from tearing him limb from limb. Even if he would heal.
    “We’ve got a fighter.” Azriel chuckled, stomping his boot down on the middle of my back and grating grains of dirt into my still-open stomach wound.
    A fighter. Damn straight I was. I flailed for a few seconds before twisting one way, then the other, to throw off Azriel’s balance. It worked. I rolled to my left several times, then crouched low on my feet. My gaze bounced wildly from Lucien to Azriel. I didn’t know if I was deciding which one to go for first or watching them to see which would try and grab me. Being on the opposite side of the Wall ’O Weapons was a serious disadvantage, but I was closest to the door. Not that I’d get very far if I managed to bolt. Still, tallying my options helped my brain to function again.
    There was only one sure way to deter them both: to use the power Lucien had been trying to coax out of me. If Lucien wanted it, that meant it had to stay locked away. I could get out of this on my own.
    “I think you’ve had enough for today,” Lucien said, returning to his throne. Not a single sign of worry marred his face. And why should it? I was nothing to fear.
    “What if I’m not done?” I countered, still tasting blood and sand on my tongue.
    A smile snaked up Azriel’s face, finding its way to his dark eyes.
    “Give me a weapon,” I offered. “Let’s make this interesting.”
    “Doubtful.” Lucien examined his nails the way a woman would after an expensive manicure. “But we do have something else for you. Come along, take a seat.”
    “I think I’ll stand.” I fought my shaking muscles to stretch to my full height of so-not-tall-enough-to-be-a-threat—to anyone, let alone these two monsters.
    Lucien fished what resembled a TV remote out from beneath his throne seat and pointed it to the blood-spattered metal panel behind the Wall ’O Torture. The entire thing flicked white for a moment, minus the blood, and then a small triangle pointing to the right appeared in the upper corner, the words PLAY in bold letters beside it.