Page 86 of How (Not) To Raise The Dead

Option B: The window. A lovely architectural feature that offers a breathtaking drop into the Silken District below. We’d be a smear on the concrete before we could even scream.

Option C: Talk my way out of it.

Option D…

“Comply!” the Warden shrieks, the others clicking their mandibles in a cacophony of wet, hungry anticipation.

I sigh heavily. I really didn’t want to get goo on my boots.

“Chain-Chewer,” I say softly. “Kill.”

The Hellhound launches himself across the room in a blur of magma-laced rock and teeth, slamming into the head Warden with the force of a freight train.

There is a sickening crunch, followed immediately by a high-pitched, gurgling squeal. Chain-Chewer thrashes his head, ripping the Warden’s arm clean off its socket. He tosses the limb aside and lunges for the throat of the next one.

“Come on,” I roar over the sound of tearing chitin, my hand clamping around Eden’s wrist with a grip like iron. I yank her toward the door, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Baby girl, we have to go. Now.”

She digs her heels in, stumbling as I drag her past a decapitated Warden.

“But what about the bind?!” she screams, her eyes wide and wild. “We didn’t cut it! Malachi, it’s still there! What are we going to do?!”

“Fuck! I don’t know, Eden!” I snap, the words tearing out of my throat raw and ugly. I spin on her, my composure finally shattering under the sheer weight of this disaster. “I don’t fucking know! I don’t have a plan for ‘Ambushed by the Shrimp Squad,’ okay? Just move your feet!”

I shove Eden through the shattered doorway and into the damp, echoing gloom of the stairwell, not waiting to hear if Serena’s screaming at me about a cleaning bill or if she’s too busy wiping guts off her silenced infant.

We hit the ground floor landing, the metal fire door looming ahead like a beacon of hope. Just one push and we’re out on the street, lost in the crowd, free to regroup and find another illegal back-alley surgeon to fix this mess.

I slam my shoulder into the crash bar, but it doesn’t budge, so I shove it again, harder.

Three more Wardens drop from the stairwell, landing in a perfect semi-circle around us, blocking the ascent. Simultaneously, the fire door melts, dissolving into a curtain of shimmering energy, revealing a row of four more Wardens standing in the alleyway.

Eden presses her back against my chest, her breath hitching into short, sharp sobs. “What do we do?”

If I fight, I can take maybe three of them. Four on a good day. But there are seven. And in the crossfire... she’s dead.

Two of them rush me instantly, slamming me face-first into the cold concrete wall. My cheekbone cracks against the rough surface, stars exploding in my vision.

“Malachi!” Eden screams.

I hear a scuffle, the sound of her struggling, and then a sharp gasp of pain.

“Don't you fucking touch her!” I roar, struggling against the weight of the pricks pinning me. “She’s fragile! You snap one bone, and I will dismantle you segment by wet, pulsing segment!”

Something cold and metallic snaps around my wrists and they haul me up, spinning me around, only to be faced with Eden. Two Wardens have her by the arms, lifting her feet off the ground. She’s kicking, crying, her face wet with tears, looking at me with absolute devastation.

“Take the Asset to Veraxia,” he gurgles. “Dispose of the mortal.”

My blood crystallises to ice.

“No!” I roar, thrashing against the cuffs. “Eden! Run!”

One of the Wardens raises a serrated pincer over her head, the muscle in its arm bunching like a coiled spring. It’s going to take her head off.

“Wait!” Eden shrieks. “You can’t! We’re blood-bound!”

The pincer pauses, hovering inches from her neck. “Completely irrelevant.”

““It’s not a normal bind! It’s uh… it’s a sym… Symbiotic Lock!” she babbles, the lies spilling out of her in a desperate torrent, shaking so hard her teeth are chattering.