Etched in Bone by Adrian Phoenix Read Free Book Online Page A

warned, voice low.
    “She is,” the Morningstar replied. “As companion and bond-mate to the Maker, no one would dream of harming her.”
    “That dick Gabriel would. He seems to have a major stick up his ass where mortals are concerned.”
    The Morningstar laughed, genuine amusement deepening the musical timbre of his voice. “You’ve such an eloquent way with words.”
    “Nice to be appreciated, and fuck you.”
    “By the way, please be careful with your wings,” the Morningstar said. “The tips and edges are sharp as blades, and you just smacked me a moment ago. You could’ve drawn blood.”
    “Yeah, yeah. Gotcha.” Dante lifted his hand, then extended his middle finger, displaying it with exaggerated care from all sides.
    The Morningstar arched a pale eyebrow. “Obviously, you take instruction well.”
    “ Tais toi, you.”
    Catching a flash of white from the corner of his eye, Dante twisted around for a better look. Shock iced his blood as he realized Lucien wasn’t the only one being punished.
    Ghostly twists of smoke curled against the thin moonlight shafting into the pit, revealing another figure hanging across from Lucien. She dangled on her own pair of hooks, blood staining the front of her gold and black gown. Coils of winter-pale hair looped to her shoulders alongside her pain-etched face. Her creamy white wings had also been banded shut. Despite the pain etching her face, she watched their descent, her violet eyes bright with wonder.
    “Creawdwr,” she whispered, her gaze caressing Dante’s face.
    “Who’s she?” Dante asked. “And why the hell is she on hooks too?”
    “She is Hekate . . . my daughter,” the Morningstar replied, voice grim. “I didn’t know Gabriel had sentenced her to Sheol for trying to help your father escape until we stepped through your gate. Then I heard her.”
    “Sounds like bullshit to me,” Dante said. “You’re linked to her as her dad, yeah? You woulda heard her, felt her, anywhere.”
    “She shielded her pain and refused to call to me. She knew I had more important concerns.” The Morningstar gave Dante a pointed look.
    “Think again. I ain’t your concern. Never was. Never will be.”
    “That’s where you’re wrong,” the Morningstar said. “As Maker, you’re everyone’s concern—whether you like it or not. All I want is to help you along whatever path you choose to walk.”
    “ All you want . Uh-huh. Yeah. Right.”
    Lucien’s warning remained clear in Dante’s mind: I hid you from others—powerful others who would use you without mercy. Dante had a feeling the Morningstar, despite all his friendly help and so-called guidance, fell smack into the middle of the “ use you without mercy ” category.
    “Stubborn and cynical,” the Morningstar muttered. “Truly, a winning combination.”
    Before Dante could bite off a proper retort, a rapid burring sound caught his attention and drew his gaze to the dark tunnels stretching off in both directions from within the pit’s guts.
    Several creatures with serpentine bodies—maybe three feet plus change in length—and feathered, lizardlike heads flew out from the mouths of the tunnels, carried on multiple, hummingbird-quick wings. They flitted around the pit in agitated circles, their burring wings stirring up the rotten-egg stench. Red and orange ember-light glinted from their scaled hides.
    “And who are they?” Dante asked, eyeing the snake-lizard-hummingbird things.
    “ Chalkydri, ” the Morningstar said dismissively. “Servants and jailors.”
    “You really fucking think you’re superior to everyone, don’tcha?”
    An amused smile quirked at the Morningstar’s lips. “Think? No. I know I am.”
    Dante snorted. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
    The chalkydri continued their anxious aerial darting, chittering and fluting, as the Morningstar slowed his descent, coming to a hovering position in front of Lucien’s unconscious body with strong, steady wing-beats.
    Fear