Blood on the Taiga (THE EARTHEN CALAMITIES: NIZHNY #1) by E Anders EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: E Anders
- Language: English
- Genre: fantasy romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 9.7 MB
- Price: Free
Even in his near catatonic state, Gunnar recognized this wasn’t the normal
amount of light sneaking into his solitary hole. His torpor-infused brain
took a few beats to shift from bleary instinct to half awake.
Dark hole. Underground walls. The reinforced and enchanted steel door,
with a slot for rolling in his weekly sustain potion, was the only light he’d
seen in . . . Damn, he really had no idea how long.
Ah. Right.
He was deep in the bowels of the Manhattan Penitentiary, subsect of the
Eastern Seaboard Conjunct Accorded Territory. Otherwise known as the
only magical prison on Earth with a zero escape rate.
Metal squealed, the door hinges rusted from disuse. Hells. His
hypernatural senses pained at the shrill sound, and Gunnar squeezed his
eyes shut tighter at the widening light beam. What might have once been a
growl crossed his cracked lips in a pathetic puff.
“Add the second and third restraints once he’s detached from the wall and
floor anchors.”
The voice boomed in the confined space, Gunnar’s head throbbing with
each syllable. At least the scents didn’t overwhelm him as well; he was so
ripe with his own sweat and the piss and shit wafting up from the latrine,
nothing else made it through.
Rough hands came at him from all sides, and it burned his ass that he
flinched at the touch, his skin tingling as his heart barely pumped. His
adrenaline wasn’t up to the task yet, his blood circulating like molasses. He
didn’t resist. No point. He was in no state to fight or kill, nowhere near
capable of battling his way free. He’d been rotting down here, forgotten, for
too damn long.
Half carried, half dragged, he focused on surfacing from his torpor
without letting on to the guards. Whoever moved him must have been big,
lifting him with no effort. Trolls, ogres, or half-giants maybe? Working the
prisons was one way their kind avoided becoming residents. Whoever led
his retrieval was a duster like himself or an Aperien. No human in their
right mind came anywhere near a place like this.
Every sound grated against his oversensitive ears. They reached an
elevator, rode it for a bit while he kept his eyes pinched tight. His eyes still
hurt, and the influx of light got worse once they left the elevator. Tile
clicked under heels now. They’d come out above the cell blocks and into
processing.
The ground floor, which connected to the outside world.
Gunnar itched despite himself. What the hells was going on? There was
no reason to drag his ass out. His kind didn’t deserve freedom, a message
made abundantly clear his entire life.
Doors, buzzers. Muttered complaints and exclamations of surprise from
those they passed. Another door open, shut, and his ass was pushed into a
metal chair. Wrist restraints shackled to the table in front of him, ankles
bound to the floor. Collar clipped in place, anchored at the chest cross
guard, the hum of magical reinforcement. Experienced enchanters liked to
add sensory charms, calling cards showing just how good they were at their
job.
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