" As Ari waited for his answer, she once again tried to ignore the blood splatter at the edge of her vision, and the groans from the dying man strung up at the edge of the small room on her right side. Packed dirt was hard beneath her feet, the bare rock walls emerald-less and glistening like the walls of a cave. Low light from candles scattered around the room gave it a gothic, sinister atmosphere. Or maybe that was coming from the fact that this was obviously Azazil’s torture chamber. Damp earth, sweat and the coppery scent of blood tingled Ari’s nose.
The blood rushed in her ears as she stared up at Azazil, awaiting his answer. "