Void Domain, Book 04 полностью

For a moment, she considered whether or not she should be worried about the oxygen levels in the room, or lack thereof. If nothing else, the professor seemed to know what he was doing and Genoa had yet to feel lightheaded, so she dismissed the concern.

Zoe should be here soon enough. If it was a problem, she would notice and would be able to provide a breath of fresh air.

Another bunch of flesh golems rounded the corner at the end of the hallway.

“How many of these things does he have? Is this ever going to end?”

“Unless I am much mistaken,” Wayne said in a clipped voice–a side effect of not toning down his processing speed enough, “you asked for this.”

Genoa’s lips curled into a grin.

“That I did.”

— — —

Devon stopped.

The wall looked inviting. Too inviting. Irresistibly inviting.

After incinerating a corpse on the floor that may or may not have been a zombie, Devon stumbled over to the wall and leaned against it.

He couldn’t go on much longer at this pace.

His feet ached. His legs ached. His hip wasn’t doing so well. Worse above all else, he was sweating.

Not for the first time in recent years, Devon started recounting and individually regretting several mistakes in his life choices that had led up to this point. Being born in this age was one of his first and greatest mistakes. It was followed closely by being raised by that deadbeat of a man. It was a wonder he had turned out so well with that being his ideal for most of his childhood.

Of course, those were far in the past. While mistakes, he didn’t have much option and he certainly couldn’t change it now.

More recently, he had beholden himself to Ylva in asking it to save Eva. Temporarily, true, but he was still its slave for the immediate future. It had been oddly generous in giving him only a few months of servitude. That only compounded his suspicion that it was intending to help Eva without his prompting.

Without that little deal, he wouldn’t be in this nightmare.

“Devon,” the professor snapped, “are you going to sit there all night?”

Devon shoved himself off the wall and marched across the landing to the next set of stairs. “Just catching my breath, girly.”

She made a pointed glance at a number painted on the wall. “This is only the ninth floor. I figured you would be in shape from climbing up to your ‘penthouse suite’ at the prison every day.”

“You think I walk up all that?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “I suppose not. Regardless, we have been delayed enough as it–”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.” He glanced up the stairwell. Only four floors left. And then…

And then back down.

“Maybe I’ll just throw myself out a window,” Devon mumbled to himself as he followed up the stairs after the professor.

“Did you say something?”

“Yeah. Mind your own business.”

At her impolite harrumph, Devon coiled his tentacle around the railing and used it to half drag himself up the staircase.

It had proven useful. For the most part. The lack of opposable thumb and fingers was surprisingly not that big of an issue. The tentacle’s dexterity combined with the suckers made up for that deficiency. For tasks that did require use of his fingers, he still had his other hand.

Tragically, it did not possess the carnivean’s raw strength. That came more from the demon’s innate magic than any musculature in the limb itself. While it worked as a replacement arm, he wouldn’t be tearing the limbs off of Arachne any time soon.

That it did not produce its own mucus made Devon happy. Very happy. That had been his main concern over attaching it in the first place. He might have had to line his trench coats in plastic. And his bed.

And everything, really.

“So,” hedged the professor, “you’ve been broody lately. Broodier.”

“And you’ve been nosy.”

“Just wondering what has been bothering you.”

“Bothering me?” Devon snorted. “My life’s work is mostly dead on her bed; she’s lucky she doesn’t need to eat often. I’ve been conscripted by Ylva to do its dirty work. And I’m here, with you, in this necropolis.” He paused, then added, “several other things as well. The little things do add up over time.”

“Eva is your life’s work?”

“Well,” Devon scratched his beard with his tentacle, “I was planning on finding more test subjects soon. Lady Ylva might keep me busy with her chores for–”

The professor stopped and turned at the landing. She sent a blade of razor wind off to one side, bisecting a zombie, on her way to face Devon. “What do you mean test subjects?”

“I was under the impression that Eva had mentioned our little arrangement to you…”

She shook her head.

“Ah.” Oops. Whatever, Eva can deal with it.. “Ask how well her treatment is going next time she is awake.”

“What treatment?”

“Ask her.”

Devon slipped around the still professor and continued up the next flight of stairs. He had just gotten into a rhythm and wasn’t about to stop for a trifle of inane chatter. Especially if she was just going to repeat back whatever he said as a question.

He froze at the top of the next landing.