Deathly Temperance: A Piper & Payne Supernatural Thriller (Netherworld Paranormal Police Department Book 3) by John P. Logsdon & Christopher P. Young

Author:John P. Logsdon & Christopher P. Young [Logsdon, John P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Myth Press
Published: 2018-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Brazen and Kix looked pretty rough when we got into the hut. They were scarred and bloody, and there were multiple bruises on their faces. If I were being honest, I’d say it improved Brazen’s looks somewhat.

Reaper and I set about unfastening their bindings.

They both slid from their chairs and onto the floor, groaning.

“Do what you can, Reap,” I said, hoping that his particular skills would be effective in this place. “I’ll look around for potions or whatever I can find.”

I caught sight of his hands glowing lightly, which signaled that he wasn’t powerless here. Whether he had the same level of power as he did outside of this place was anyone’s guess, though.

Keller would have the answer to that, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that asshole at the moment. I needed to focus on hunting for something we could use.

Potions.

Keys.

Weapons.

Whatever the hell I could get my hands on to get us through this and back out of here. The place we were in was so bad that I wanted to get back to Faeland. To be fair, Faeland was gorgeous, and if there weren’t such strict rules about who was allowed to walk the area, I’d be the first person to book a spa day there.

A small desk sat near the back wall. It had a hutch on top that was filled with tiny drawers. It brought back a memory from my childhood. My father had a desk just like this. He kept screws, nails, wires, and various other gadgets and tidbits in it.

I shook myself and got back to searching.

Most of the drawers contained nothing, or little slips of paper with some type of odd writing on them. Even though I couldn’t read the scribble, I realized it was magical, so I pocketed them. One of our wizards might be able to decipher what they were.

That, along with a shriek from the hut next door, made me think of Methkins.

Reaper glanced over at me.

“I know, I know,” I said. “Keep working. The faster we’re out of here, the faster we can get Meth.”

I realized that sounded wrong, but I knew what I meant.

After stashing a good fifteen slips of paper, I finally hit pay dirt. The next few drawers contained vials, and they all had readable text on them.

Healing.

Rupture.

Blinding.

Energy.

Crippling.

It was abundantly clear that Mr. Cleary enjoyed his job. Bringing a person to the edge of death and then giving them healing and energy just so he could repeat the process was seriously fucked up. Worse, using potions to rupture tendons, blind people, and cripple them was warped. But that’s what you got with psychopathic sadists. Fortunately for us, there were a lot of healing and energy potions.

I handed one over to Reaper and he looked relieved.

But just as he was about to use it on Kix, he stopped and stared up at me.

“What if these names don’t really represent what these do?” he asked.

“You’re right,” I said thoughtfully as I let out a slow breath. “Use it on Brazen first.

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