Infernal Descent (Ethan Drake Series Book 9) by N.P. Martin

Author:N.P. Martin [Martin, N.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Sixteen

“Nadia? You in there? Nadia? Open the door.”

I was standing outside Knight’s apartment, banging on the door like some husband who’d been locked out by his wife.

Callie stood beside me, a scowl on her face. “She doesn’t want to see you, Daddy? Why would she? You dragged her into your world of suffering. You’re a bad man, Daddy, a bad man.”

I looked down at Callie. “Not now, Callie. Daddy’s got a headache.”

“And you expect me to care why? Look at my head, Daddy. Look at my face! Half of it is gone! Because of you! You did this, Daddy!”

“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” I said, in no mood for her constant denigrations this morning.

I continued to pound on the door. “Nadia! Please, just hear me out!”

There was no response, just the muffled sounds of the city beyond the walls. I leaned my forehead against the cool metal of the door, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. The guilt, the regret, it was all there, pressing down on me like a physical force.

“Nadia, I know I’ve messed up,” I said, my voice low. “But I need to make this right. Please.”

From inside, there was no sound at all, which made me worried. What if Knight had gone back on the pills again? Worse, what if she’d decided to overdose, unable to take listening to Jemma Hargreaves any longer?

In my mind, I pictured her lying on the living room floor, half dead as Emerson Pharma’s drugs worked to shut down her system and ferry her soul into the waiting arms of Infernum.

“Fuck this.” Taking a step back, I lifted my leg and planted a kick on the door. The force of the kick splintered the frame as the door burst open, swinging back on its hinges.

Inside, the apartment was in darkness, all the shades drawn. “Knight? You in here?”

There was no response, so I went to the bedroom. The door was closed, and when I opened it, I stopped dead, for Knight was lying in her double bed. Light from a small lamp illuminated the room in sickly yellow light. Illuminated Knight as well, who was lying there naked and unmoving, her lithe body adorned with tattoos. For a moment, I could only stare at the beauty of the art adorning her body. Her tattoos were different to mine, seeming more intricate and symbolic, weaving stories across her skin. Not only that, but they all seemed connected by a luminous blue ink that flowed like a river through the designs, linking each tattoo in a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. The blue ink seemed alive, almost pulsating with its own energy, creating a stunning contrast against her pale skin.

But the luminosity of the blue ink seemed to be fading in places as well, and that’s when I sensed that something was wrong. I also realized that Jemma Hargreaves was nowhere to be seen, at least not until I heard her voice behind me.

“You’re too late,” Jemma said, startling me, making me spin around.

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