The Fulbourn - Pitch & Sickle Book Five: The Diabolus Chronicles (MM Gaslamp Fantasy) by D K Girl

Author:D K Girl [Girl, D K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lucas Publishing
Published: 2022-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

PITCH CLENCHED his fists so hard his nails broke skin, blood warm and oozing upon his palms. But it was insignificant compared to what Silas was enduring.

Hold the flame. Was Silas mad? Did he expect Pitch to do nothing?

The ankou’s back was sliced open, deep ugly gashes that flowed with blood, deepening the hue of his trousers to an unsettling mahogany. Pitch was not sure if the glimpses of white within the ruined flesh were strips of the ankou’s shirt buried deep or hints of ribs.

The cruel tips of the bone weapon made light work of firm muscle and sinew. Silas could not hold back his cries, and each one had the wildness at Pitch’s core crashing itself against the confines of its cage. Gods, he burned to release it. To tear apart this whole miserable fucking place and take the sorceress apart, one vile piece at a time. The Alp would go next. He’d rip out her black heart with his own hands and shove it down her fucking throat.

It would be easy…so, so easy, to let the madness take him, here and now. To release whatever maniacal strength Seraphiel had imbued him with. To give up trying not to lose himself to the maelstrom of it. Pitch’s hands were aglow, flame licking beneath the surface.

But the oaf was telling him to hold back. Begging him.

And damn him, Silas was right.

The ankou, Charlie, and the lieutenant were all far too close to the Berserker Prince to survive if Pitch let go.

The sorceress chewed at her lip, watching wide-eyed with delight the punishment of the one responsible for killing her grotesque children. The Dullahan’s head dangled from her clenched fist, swinging as she was absorbed by the torment she had ordered. She glanced at Pitch, watching for sign that she’d tipped him over the edge. Onoskolis hovered at her side. The only light in this darkness was the look upon the Alp’s face. She was harried. This was not a part of the plan. Her mistress was playing out of turn.

Pitch fought to tune out Silas’s screams, working up a brittle smile. ‘Dreadful racket he’s making, isn’t it?’ he said. Oh gods, the things he would do to these sorcerers…to the Alp…when the path was clear.

‘It does have a nice ring to it though, don’t you think?’ Macha was a lunatic. It was there in the twist of her mouth, the mania that clung to her voice.

Onoskolis went to whisper something, but Macha elbowed her away. The Dullahan’s head snagged on the Alp’s gown, which, Pitch was most pleased to see, aggrieved the bitch very much.

‘Macha,’ she snapped. ‘Enough. Send them on, now. The others will be here before long and will expect them ready to be sealed away.’

The sorceress raised her hand, lifting the Dullahan’s red-eyed head. ‘Cease.’

The rider heeded her at once and reined his horse in, the roan sinking back on its haunches as it danced backwards.

Silas slumped, arse to heels, toppling forward, his forehead hanging just shy of the floorboards as the chains held him from total collapse.

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