The Hammer of War, Chapter 53

Name: Amir Azad
Title: War-Summoner
War Points: 0

STR – 47
DEX – 40
VIT – 161

—

Alexandra and I stood over the unconscious Fallen Angel like two mechanics staring at a busted car we weren’t quite sure how to fix. We’d hauled her back to the condo and done the reasonable thing: strapped her down until she looked more like a chain display than a person. Ankles, wrists, waist, chest, even the neck. The only part left uncovered was her head, and that was mostly so she didn’t choke on her own tongue if she woke up thrashing.

Up close, she wasn’t as impressive as she’d been in the air. Her skin was pale and clammy, her breath shallow, her face swollen from the man’s earlier beatdown. The hole in her chest hadn’t healed, and her stomach wound still leaked faintly. Alexandra had pointed out the regeneration—noticeable, but not by much. She healed like a fit human who happened to own stock in protein powder, nothing more. For something with wings and a flair for spear-flinging light shows, it was underwhelming. However, her resilience was incredible, because humans would’ve already died from all the physical trauma she endured. 

We agreed that this was an opportunity. A big one. You didn’t just stumble across one of these things every day. Having her alive and chained meant questions could be asked. Answers could be pulled. And if the answers weren’t good enough, well, there were other uses. Alexandra had already brought up dissection as casually as if she were talking about cooking a chicken. Not alive, of course. Neither of us were lunatics. But when the alternative was letting her go free, the list of benefits was longer than the list of downsides.

For now, just keeping her alive and near meant leverage. We could watch, study, test. Learn what made her different from the others. If she turned out to be a gold mine of information, great. If she turned out to be useless, then all I had to do was save up enough War Points and pick up a unit of [Mindshackle Scarabs]. At that point, she’d either spill everything she knew or she’d be an unwilling asset we could drag along like a pet project. Either way, we came out ahead.

Alexandra leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms, and said exactly what we were both thinking. “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst.”

I nodded. “Yeah. And we’re going to find out which one it is.”

“Maybe you should heal her head so she can actually wake up?” Alexandra said.

I nodded, because she was right. “Yeah, good idea.”

It hit me then that this was the first time I’d ever used [Isha’s Favor] on someone who I wouldn’t lose sleep over strangling to death if the situation called for it. Healing friends, sure. Healing myself, obviously. But a chained Fallen Angel? That was new territory.

The funny thing was, I didn’t even feel that strongly about her. Devils made my blood boil. Vampires made me want to break something sharp over their skulls. Fallen Angels, though—they just didn’t register the same way. Maybe it was because Granthi had said they were the most human out of the bunch. Not “good” human. Not noble or kind. Just… human. Which meant they were petty, selfish, greedy, lustful, and all the rest. Somehow, that made them less infuriating. Familiar, in a way.

Still, familiarity didn’t mean trust. If she opened her mouth and gave me the wrong kind of attitude, I’d be just as happy to split her head open as I was to patch it up. That was the balance here. She got her head fixed, and I got answers—or she stopped being useful and turned into spare parts.

I raised my hand and channeled [Isha’s Favor]. Warmth spread through her skull, knitting fractures, closing veins, steadying the slow rattle of her breath. The swelling around her jaw shrank. Her cheekbone set back into place. The worst of the damage was gone in seconds. The teeth, though—well, the spell wasn’t a miracle worker. She’d be waking up to a mouth that looked like it had gone twelve rounds with a brick. Not a great look for someone who probably made a career out of being sultry and smug. Oh well, not my problem. 

I pulled my hand back and shrugged. “That’s the best I can do without spending points on a dental plan.”

I healed only her head and her throat, just enough so she’d be capable of talking. Everywhere else was still a wreck, which meant every breath, every twitch, every blink was going to hurt like hell. That was by design.

Alexandra smirked faintly, arms folding across her chest. “Good enough. Let’s see if our guest is ready to wake up and talk.”

Nodding, I let my [Blank] aura flare at a middling level. Just a flicker. To a human, it would’ve been nothing more than the uneasy prickle you get when someone stares too long. Gone before you even put your finger on what felt wrong. To a supernatural, though… well, the effect was less subtle.

The Fallen Angel jerked upright—or tried to. Chains rattled as she thrashed, black veins crawling up under her skin like her own body was trying to revolt against itself. The scream that tore out of her throat was loud enough to rattle the light fixture above us, so loud that it actually hurt me just to listen. A spray of blood spattered across her chin and the table, and then, just as suddenly, she slumped back down. Out cold again, chest rising in shallow, uneven gasps.

Alexandra turned slowly, eyebrows raised so high they might’ve left her forehead. “Maybe power it down a bit or something?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, I got that. Sorry.”

The table creaked as the Fallen Angel twitched in her chains. Blood was still dripping steadily onto the floor in a little puddle that was starting to annoy me. Alexandra shook her head, walked over to the cabinet, and pulled out a stack of cloths. She went about wiping down the table like she was dealing with a messy child who had just spilled juice on the counter. When she was satisfied that everything was clean again, she turned back toward me with her usual calm expression.

“Let’s try that again,” she said.

I stepped up to the table and placed my hand gently against the Fallen Angel’s throat and temple. She’d torn her vocal cords screaming herself raw, so the first thing I did was knit those back together with [Isha’s Favor]. Her skull and jaw were patched too—enough to function, at least. I left the rest of her injuries exactly as they were, though I did remove the internal damage caused by the mid-level release of my [Blank Aura].

Then, with a little extra caution this time, I dialed my [Blank] Aura down to its absolute lowest setting. A flicker of black and white rippled over her skin, her body gave a small jolt, and her eyes snapped open. She gasped once, sucking in air like a drowning woman breaking the surface, but this time there was no screaming. No blood. Just shock.

Her gaze darted to Alexandra, then to me. The moment her eyes landed on me, her face went pale. “Who are you people?”

Before I could say anything, Alexandra stepped forward and slapped her across the face. The sharp crack echoed across the condo. “You don’t get to ask questions here, fallen.”

The Fallen Angel opened her mouth like she was about to argue. Bad idea. I stepped in and slapped the other cheek before she could get a word out. “You speak only when spoken to.”

Her head rocked from side to side, and for a moment she just stared at us in stunned silence, cheeks already reddening. Still, slapping her felt like slapping solid stone. Her skin was soft, but incredibly resilient. 

Alexandra crossed her arms and gave me a sidelong glance. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

I shrugged. “This is the most fun I’ve had all week. Don’t ruin it for me.”

The Fallen Angel groaned softly, muttered something under her breath, and I leaned down just enough to hear it. “You two are insane. When the Grigori finds out–”

And then I slapped her again for daring to talk.

“Irrelevent.” Alexandra said flatly, not missing a beat. “And you are our prisoner. Start cooperating, and maybe you’ll leave this table with most of your bits still intact.”

The fallen angel stayed quiet. 

I grinned. “See? She gets it.” 

I turned back to the Fallen, voice calm. “So, here’s the deal. We’re going to ask questions. Nothing too private. Nothing you couldn’t answer on a census form. You will answer truthfully. If you refuse, you lose a body part. If you lie—something worse. Do you understand? Answer only with yes or no.”

“Yes,” she rasped, glaring at me.

I smiled faintly and glanced at Alexandra. She gave me the smallest nod before stepping closer. “What is your name, fallen?”

“Lick my cunt, you fucking—”

The rest of that sentence ended with a sharp crack as Alexandra’s palm connected with her cheek. The chains rattled with the force.

I tilted my head. “That counted as a refusal, right?”

Alexandra didn’t even look at me. “Yes.”

“Okay, just checking. Toe or tooth?”

“A toe,” she said evenly. “A tooth would just make it harder for her to speak. And we still need her mouth for answers.”

I weighed the options for a second, hand drifting toward my knife, then pulled back. “Eh. Outsourcing sounds better.”

With a thought, I summoned the two [Drukhari Incubi] I’d been neglecting. They stepped out of nothing, armored in serrated black plates, their presence filling the room with a sharp, uncomfortable pressure. The Fallen Angel’s eyes widened, and for once she stopped trying to mouth off.

“Gentlemen,” I said, gesturing toward her foot, “remove her big toe. Do it in the most painful way you can think of. Be creative.”

The Incubi bowed in silence, one of them drawing a blade so serrated it looked like it had been forged out of spite. The other crouched low, clamping down on her ankle with an iron grip.

The Fallen Angel thrashed in her chains. “Wait—no, don’t you dare—!”

The Incubi didn’t wait. The room filled with her scream the moment the blade touched skin. It wasn’t quick. It wasn’t clean. They worked with deliberate precision, slowly dragging every sound they could out of her throat until the toe finally came free, clattering to the floor with a wet smack. I wasn’t sure how they did what they did, but I was absolutely certain that I didn’t wanna know. 

I winced. “Damn. That was… disturbing.”

Alexandra folded her arms and didn’t flinch. “They follow orders. But you should’ve known that Drukhari are the masters of pain; that was not even a tiny fraction of what they’re capable of.”

The Fallen sagged in her chains, face slick with sweat, breath ragged. Her eyes burned with hate, but she didn’t speak.

I pointed at the empty space where her toe had been. “That’s what refusing gets you. Next time, try the truth. It’s painless and free.”

Alexandra smirked faintly. “And if you get mouthy again, we can always move on to fingers.”

The Fallen’s jaw tightened, but she gave the smallest, grudging nod.

“Good,” I said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Now, give us your name.” 

“Raynare…” She rasped. “My name is Raynare.” 

I smiled after a moment. “I know.” 

That got a reaction out of her, something close to resignation. I then turned to Alexandra and gestured for her to continue. “And what is your purpose in Seoul, Raynare?” 

She looked like she wanted to lie or refuse to answer, but one look at the jagged knives carried by the Incubi changed her mind very quickly. Raynare gritted her teeth. “A spell. I’m here for an experimental spell. It was made by a Korean Mage.” 

Alexandra raised a brow. “Tell us more about this spell. What’s it for?” 

The fallen angel shuddered in pain and frustration. “It’s an extraction spell for… for Sacred Gears.”