Dásos’s presence vanished, jolting Keshiema with a fresh dose of fear. Without his lingering essence, she could feel Adramelech's fetid aura closing in like a putrid miasma. Only the most deplorable of creatures could produce something as rancid and foul as the king's magic.

  She ran down the stairwell as fast as she could without falling. The spark in her soul sizzled impatiently, begging her to call on it. But the power she used at the castle must have been the reason she could not use her speed. And right now, she needed to make her escape as quick as possible

  She also needed to keep her whits about her, and that burning surge of power had sent her into a crazed, murderous frenzy. Her memories were foggy, but she knew she had to have killed several dozen demons before Dásos found her. Two in particular stood out to her. Moloch and Cimeies had both helped her, and how did she pay back their small acts of kindness?

  Adramelech's war cry rattled her bones, bringing her back to the present. He was close, she could sense his oppressive aura The same part of her that felt Adramelech's presence told her she was no where near ready to fight him. So she pressed on, praying she was fast enough to avoid the king's forces.

  Once she reached the second floor landing, she jumped the railing, landing nimbly at the bottom of the stairwell. A soldier entered the small space, but his sword remained sheathed. Keshiema grabbed his arm and spun him around, slamming him into the wall opposite the door. Jamming his own dagger into his neck, she let him slump to the floor.

  A lone soldier patrolling the parking garage turned towards her as she burst through the door. Taking out a whistle, the soldier blew into it. The sound pierced Keshiema’s mind with the same pitch that almost killed her several weeks ago. Her vision blurred and she started to lose her balance.

  Darkness crept into the edges of her vision and she had to fight to stay awake. Warm, sticky liquid seeped from her ears. She moved forward, trying to attack. Blood filled her lungs. Falling to her knees, she hacked and wheezed, trying to catcher her breath. Her Mark flickered and icy chills washed over her in waves every time it dimmed.

  The soulfire grew hotter, spreading outward into her body, chasing away the bitter cold. As the heat increased the whistle faded to a bearable volume. Her mark shone brightly and her body quickly recovered.

  She rushed the whistle blower. But she was slow, like someone had attached weights to her ankles. Once again, she was losing her speed. Slicing the demon's throat, Keshiema caught the whistle as it fell and stuffed the unassuming object into her pocket.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced the blaze back down into the depths of her soul. It fought her, refusing to be shuttered away so easily. 'Please,' she begged her powers to obey, 'I cant afford to lose my speed. Not right now.' The inferno grew intensely, almost unbearably hot for just a moment before relenting and obeying her.

  Another loud roar shook the garage. She turned to see a demon standing at the entrance of the parking structure, staring at her. She froze, consumed by fearful trepidation. Standing at over ten feet tall, with thick bulging arms, ten horns adorned with golden cuffs, muscular equestrian legs, lion ears, and large colorful tail feathers fanned out behind him, the Chimera-Daemon was unmistakable.

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  She told herself to run as Adramelech stomped towards her, but her legs were as good as jelly. “So, you’re the little mutt causing so much chaos," his voice rumbled in her bones. A bedlam of turquoise miasma stormed around the beast. His eyes glowed with fury and his knuckles cracked as he tightened his fists.

  "Move!" a strange voice shouted in her head. "Get out of there!" snapping out of her fear, she looked around for an escape. She tried the stairwell she had come through. Locked. She was walled in.

  Adramelech stood in front of the old garage entrance, with rubble and debris piled in front the exit. There was another set of stairs near the entrance, and the door hung off its hinges. But the garage was several stories tall and while she might survive jumping from its roof, she would not walk away unscathed.

  Not knowing his speed capabilities, she rushed towards the entrance, praying to her stars she was fast enough. As she sped past him, inches away from freedom, a pain radiated through her skull, and she was stopped in her tracks. She cried out as Adramelech picked her up by her hair. The thick strands held strong as he lifted her to meet his leering gaze.

  Before she could unsheathed her swords, he sliced through her leather frogs, letting her weapons fall to the ground. She grasped at his wrist, digging her claws in as fiercely as she could. He laughed, entertained by her otiose struggle.

  “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting.” He caressed her cheek with a thick yellow claw as he spoke. “Mmm," he licked his lips. "You are as beautiful as your mother. If Fate had been kinder to me, I might have been able to get a decent heir from you. Ah, but you are a hell-child. Then you would have made an excellent Serisha."

  The fire in her soul sparked and crackled, enraged by his disgusting, repulsive words. She swung at his face, leaving vicious claw marks across the left side. He growled at her, tightening his grip on her hair. “You women are all the same. You should be eager to receive your king.” He thrust her into the hair. She realized what he was doing just before he pulled his arm down, slamming her into the asphalt.

  Keshiema's mangled body started repairing itself the second she hit the ground, adding to the already excruciating agony. A bright light took her vision as Adramelech lifted her once more. Her stomach dropped in a moment of weightless anticipation as her body hovered for a short moment just before he pulled her down again. With hitched breath, she braced herself for another impact. The already damaged bones shattered with the second strike. When he lifted her again, she wondered if she could survive another hit.

  Adramelech held her up, examining her broken body. Her sight slowly returned, allowing her to see his confused frown. “That should have killed you.” Twisting his hand, he spun her, bewildered as he watched her ragged body repair itself. “What an oddly unique a unique power.” He smiled again. “I wonder how long it will keep you alive.”

  With a sadistic grin, Adramelech drug a sharp claw down her arm, slicing through her flesh. He carefully avoided her arteries, revelling in every moment of anguish and suffering. The wounds healed almost as quickly as he made them; a trail of shimmering iridescent purple aura following his claw, swiftly repairing the fresh lacerations.

  The fading embers in Keshiema's soul sputtered, fighting to stay lit. ‘Is this really it?’ She gritted her teeth, fighting to hold her screams.

  As he started down her other arm, she struggled to maintain consciousness, her healing powers barely keeping up. He moved his claws to her stomach, exposed through her tattered clothing. He laughed lightly, enjoying the tortured pain in her eyes as she refused to scream. He began again, moving back to slicing her arms.

  Her flayed flesh stopped healing and blood trickled from her wounds. "So, it doesn't last forever." He slowed down, hoping to prolong his enjoyment.

  Unable to hold back any longer, she cried out in agony, an ear shattering wail that echoed through the near-empty building. Adramelech's malicious smile widened as he relished in the sound of her agony.

  The barely burning coals extinguished just before the lights went out.