Free Entice: An Ignite Novella by Erica Crouch Page A

its beat.
    For the first time ever, I can hear everything. There are so many more noises than I ever thought there could be. I can hear all of the small noises my heartbeat must have covered up before. There’s a sniffing sound coming from down the hall and raucous laughter a few rooms away from here. I can hear bed sheets being tossed from I’m not sure where and even the quiet creaking sound of ice settling.
    Az makes soft wheezing noises in his sleep because of the strange angles he chooses to lie in. He rolls over restlessly, letting his arm splay over the bed and smack the top of his nightstand. Still, he doesn’t wake up.
    When I listen even closer, I notice another sound missing. I wait for several minutes before I admit it to myself, marking the seconds by counting every useless breath in and out like the air is rationed and I’m only allowed a few lungfuls an hour. The stillness makes me queasy, and I wonder how I didn’t notice it before, why he didn’t say anything to me.
    Azael has no heartbeat either.

Chapter 12
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    T ERROR AND EXCITEMENT ARE LOYAL companions. One never seems to be apart from the other. They are always at each other’s side, hand in hand, inseparable in a spinning waltz. Jealousy stirs between them, spurring a fight for dominance. One, two, three, terror. One, two, three, excitement . One, two, three, one, two, three. I’m still waiting for my heartbeat, expecting it to crash back into my ribs furiously. But I’m forced to keep time on my own. One, two, three, terror, excitement.
    I’m going to throw up. Maybe. Probably. If I let myself, I’ll throw up. But I won’t allow it, refuse to acknowledge the unpleasantness sitting at the back of my throat, because getting sick would be a sign of weakness—one I can’t afford Azael to see, and one Azael can’t afford for me to show.
    It’s been so long since I’ve been anywhere other than a select few corridors of Hell, and I’m excited to stretch my legs and wings across new geography that isn’t masked in uniform ice. I crave greens and browns and oranges and reds and the color of nature alive. I just wish I could be reunited with the seasons under different circumstances.
    Azael and I meet Naamah and Botis at the gates of Hell before I have time to second guess myself. It’s so early that I’m not sure it’s tomorrow instead of yesterday. Not that I can separate the days clearly anymore. It may be next week for all I know. I’m not sure how long it’s been since the war ended or if Heaven has had enough time to rebuild their army.
    I tap my fingers on my leg, thrumming a false heart beat. I think I understand Gus’s nervous habit now.
    Azael grins at me. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in a dress.”
    Gus left two packages at our door sometime last night. One for Azael, one for me. Inside the packages, folded carefully around a small page of instructions that must have been torn from his notebook, were our designated uniforms.
    “Uniforms are to be worn on all assignments.” Gus’s handwriting was thick and agitated across the page. “Behave. Work as a team.”
    I’m envious of Azael’s uniform. It looks comfortable and easy to move around in. He’s dressed in sturdy boots and leather pants so dark a shade of brown that they are almost black. His shirt has short sleeves and a strap that slings from shoulder to waist for easy access to his scythe, one of his new favorite weapons.
    There are multiple places for him to keep weapons—the strap across his chest and back, the holster around his hips, and the band around his leg. He’s glinting with blades of every shape and size, and he even has a cluster of vials tucked into the ankle of his boot and in a large pocket on his pants. He looks like a warrior. I look like...well, like I’m going to a ceremony of Hell.
    Gauzy cream fabric falls from my shoulders down to my ankles. It’s soft but crinkly, and I can already tell I’ll be