Page 103 of Hell Burns Between Us

Sitting in her favourite reading chair, legs pulled to her chest and head resting on her knees, she wondered if the outfit made of knives meant she’d be fighting something horrendous or if this was truly the gorgons idea of party attire. It was devastatingly beautiful, wearing it made her feel magnificent and fierce at the same time.

It gave her the confidence to face whatever might or might not be guarding the earring.

She wasn’t totally unskilled when it came to combat—Zila had taken to training her over the last few years. She could hold her own, if need be. Still, her fighting style was far more scrappy than technically skilled. Hopefully, this would be enough to keep her alive, if it came to that.

A flicker of bone-white caught her eye, and she spotted a small serpent slithering towards her. They came less often now, which suited her just fine. After the poppy-red one had bitten Valus, she’d thought the serpents were gone from her life for good. Now they seemed to appear whenever she needed an extra measure of courage, and without fail, their arrival heralded something major was about to happen.

There was definitely something guarding that damned earring.

She held out her hand to the slender, pearlescent snake. It coiled up her arm, its cool, smooth scales brought a quiet comfort as it slid higher, finally settling protectively around her throat.

Feeling her courage sufficiently fortified, she crossed the room to her closet, pulling on her magnificent bodysuit. The soft golden daggers woven into the fabric glinted menacingly in the light, waiting for the moment they would slip free of their cloth confines and become true weapons once more.

She fetched a small whistle from her satchel and gave a single sharp blast. Moments later, Zila’s midnight-black form bounded through her bedroom window. With practiced ease, she swung onto the hellcat’s back, and together they raced into the night.

The forest was heavy with shadows, the night thickening around them. Perhaps in the daylight Thistle Cottage could almost have been described as lovely; its limestone walls were crumbling in a way that was charming rather than dilapidated, with thick ivy climbing up the sides.

Only as it stood now before her, draped in whispered warnings, a severe dislike for the home curdled in her gut.

“Charming,” Zila said dryly.

Peri exhaled sharply, anxiety tightening in her chest. “It’s almost cosy, if you overlook the increasing sense of impending doom.”

Zila nudged her with a damp nose, and Peri gave a weak nod. They pushed through the overgrown brambles, the front door creaking open with a groan. As it did, the snakebites on her wrists burnt—just like all the times before. Pain licked at her pulse, searing her skin.

Peri let out a shaky breath. If she were looking for confirmation that this was where Slang wanted her, there wasn’t a better sign than that.

“Alright, I’ll go in first. You follow,” Peri said with forced confidence. She moved slowly—her footsteps careful, heartbeat thrumming in her ears. The moment her foot crossed the threshold, a ward swept over her—icy, unyielding. She tried to retreat, only the door had also slammed shut and would not open no matter how hard she pulled.

“Zila?” Her voice was strained as she tried not to panic. “Can you still hear me?”

“Yes. But I suspect not for long. The magic here is grim and likely angerous.”

Peri swallowed, trying to steady her breath. “I’ll rummage around for that stupid earring. In the meantime, maybe you can figure out how to break this enchantment so I can get out.”

Zila’s growl was soft. “Don’t die, little hellion. When in doubt, enchantments are weakest around windows.”

A full moon shone through the windows, casting everything in cool silvers. Thick silence wrapped around her, causing the hair on the back of her neck to raise. She whipped her head around again, eyes scanning the room; and once more, glittering dust under the moonlight was all she found.

Gently opening drawers and cabinets, Peri took great care to leave no trace of her rummaging. Anxiety rising, she crouched down, tapping lightly on the wooden floorboards for any hidden compartments.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of something sparkling—a translucent web of ice creeping across the rug towards her. She jerked her fingers away from the floor. Her eyes snapped to the room again.

Still alone.

As the hoar frost crept closer, the temperature dropped rapidly. Her frantic breaths formed little clouds in front of her as she scrambled away from the ice.

Something scraped across the floor just outside the doorway.

A dark, spindly figure forced its way into the room. There were too many limbs. That combined and a sightless head—gaping maw ringed in fangs made it horrifying. It lurched when it moved, each crooked step punctuated by a sharp, echoing crack like a wet log on fire.

A scream choked in her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth, instinctively shuffling backwards.

She wasn’t nearly fast enough; this creature was swift. It’s vine-like tendrils lashing out, coiling tight around her thigh. Peri pushed at the twisted creeper as it lifted her high, slamming her against the floor with a sickening thud.

The survival skills drilled into her by Zila finally kicked in and frantically she took note of everything. The web of ice. The creature’s erratic movements. She even noticed if she looked directly at it that it would stall.

She kicked out, pulling her free leg up towards herself and slamming her foot into one of the creature’s joints, fracturing it as it tried to lift and throw her to the floor again.