My mind scrambled to find an escape plan as Azraal brought the glass of his blood over from the desk.
General Gavsot had politely but firmly refused to mount a full assault on Azraal's Department. He would only wait for me at the entrance. Gus, however loyal to me he might be, was pretty powerless. And I had no other friends down here, unless I counted Kivra as an ally. And even though she'd shown up to miraculously save me from Azraal once before, it seemed that her victory had been due to a tense standoff. Now we were in Azraal's territory, surrounded by his goons, and his confidence had grown. Even if I could expect Kivra to swoop in to help--which seemed unlikely--the strategy she'd used last time would no longer fly.
I was on my own. I was also out of time. Azraal was bringing the glass to my lips with one hand and pinching my nostrils closed with the other.
So I just did whatever. I closed my eyes, focused on my desperation, and released its energy. It sent out a little pulse of something. The glass shattered in Azraal's hand and the ropes around my arms burst. It wasn't much, but at least it gave me something to work with.
A brief look of alarm flashed across Azraal's face, but he recovered swiftly, lunging for his desk. The knife he'd used to subdue me sat by his computer keyboard. I needed to act just as quickly. I still hung painfully from the meat hook, but at least now my hands were free, leaving my telekinetic capabilities a little more open.
And then I was suddenly struck with inspiration--I'd do it like the Italian Job.