Infernal Hunt Complete Set

by Holly Evans

  Lysander bristled and bared his teeth. Viktor and Matyas both took a step back; I smiled. Maybe the hound would have some uses after all.

  Quin held up his hands and looked between the two groups.

  He said calmly to the hunters, “There have been rumours about the second hound’s plans to open a hellmouth.”

  Matyas shook his head and said, “That’s not possible.”

  I smiled sweetly and said, “It seems that a lot of impossible things are occurring as of late.”

  His nostrils flared, but he bit back his words and looked at Quin. “I am not a witch. I do not know of such things. You have your hound, the other is your problem. We’ll collect the bounty from the shades.”

  “You’re not going to make any effort to try and stop a hellmouth being opened?” I growled.

  Viktor shrugged, the others made non-committal noises.

  With that, Matyas nodded to Viktor and they walked away. Lysander bristled next to me, but remained still and quiet. Elise shook her head.

  “That could have gone better,” she said softly.

  “They’re pathetic fools,” I spat.

  “It’s an age-old argument, Evie,” Quin said.

  I paced around a small circle.

  “There is more to being a hunter than keeping the supernals in line. We have a duty to protect the city,” I growled.

  “Not everyone agrees,” Quin said.

  “Then they’re wrong,” I snapped.

  Quin shook his head and sighed.

  “We’re on your side, Evie,” Elise said.

  “How can they shrug off this situation? How can they walk away from this in good conscience?” I asked.

  “They believe that duty falls to the priests and priestesses,” Elise said.

  I muttered curses under my breath. “They’re fools, nothing more than mercenaries.”

  “This isn’t helping things, Evie,” Quin said.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. He grinned at me, that infuriating grin that made me melt no matter how foul my mood.

  He said to Lysander, “Lysander, what can you tell us about this other hound and its plans?”

  The hound looked at me, I gestured for him to answer Quin. “He was... rather devoted to our master. He can’t do it alone, though, he’ll require some local help.”

  I hadn’t managed to speak to any of the covens since I’d killed Serena; as the hunters had said, they were too scared of me. The fae wouldn’t be of any use. I paced up and down the path. Quin returned to questioning Lysander about his experiences in the infernal realm.

  “What sort of local help?” Quin asked.

  Lysander curled his lip and growled, “Witches. Strong witches.”

  “Well, that’s specific,” I said.

  The hound glared at me.

  “Is there nothing else?” Quin said.

  “I was told nothing. I was supposed to be nothing more than muscle. It was offensive. I am a marrok, and he put me beneath that whimpering pup. Our old master gave me no details, nothing more than to do as I was told and spill the blood that pup told me to,” Lysander growled.

  I’d heard enough. I started walking off down the path. Elise’s hand settled on my arm, bringing me to a stop.

  “Come with me back to my church, we’ll speak to my lady and ask for guidance.” Her voice was soft, and it calmed me somewhat.

  I paused, looking into her silver eyes. “Could the hound pull this off? Could it really open a hellmouth?”

  She held my eye contact. “With the right help, yes.”

  I looked over to Lysander and Quin. Lysander had tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans; laughter danced along his lips, Quin was grinning and talking animatedly. He was in his element.

  Elise hooked her arm through mine. “Leave them to follow their own trail, we’ll meet them later.”

  I allowed her to lead me off to her church; a break and some answers would do me a lot of good.

  I couldn’t organise my thoughts; they fluttered and entangled themselves around each other, leaving me with a sense of dread and nothing much more. The angels on the architecture caught my eye more than usual; perhaps they would aid us against the potential new threat. They stood tall and proud, gazing out from balconies and spires, watching over the city. The tram made its way up the hill, the driver clearly in a rush as he hit the brakes coming into the stop. Everyone glared at the back of the driver’s cabin when they almost fell into each other; Elise and I braced ourselves against the back of the plastic seats in front of us.

  The cobble-stoned street was empty, barring one lost-looking tourist who paused to look at the signposts at the cross-road. Elise’s pace increased, pulling me along to her church; her usual calm and peace were shrivelling and revealing something darker. She breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped into her sanctuary; she wasted no time in kneeling before the white altar. I remained back in the shadows giving her room and space to do what she needed to do. I couldn’t help but trace my mind around Lysander’s presence at the back of it. I had so much left to learn. Everything had been turned on its head over the past couple of weeks.

  Elise was still knelt before her altar when I heard the scratching and scrabbling. I didn’t dare disturb her in her sacred time. As quietly as I could manage, I crept out to the front door, thinking it a stray dog that she fed or something equally charitable. I opened the large wooden door to see a wild-eyed man. Claws protruded from his fingertips, and his eyes kept shifting between blue and amber. A throwing knife fell into my hand. I hadn’t even realised I’d done it.

  He said, “Please. Help me. I heard this was a safe haven.”

  His claws dug into the door as his legs buckled beneath him. Without thinking, I pulled his arm around my shoulders and helped him into the church. He went down onto all fours; his face began to extend, but it never made it past a slight deformity. Thick coarse hair sprouted down his spine, agony echoing through his growls and cries; there was nothing I could do. He fell over onto his side panting, his eyes never settling on one thing for more than half a second at a time. Elise walked over to him, her mouth in a small tight line, her eyes dark. She knelt at his side; I stepped back, giving them room.

  Her voice was soft, yet stern. “Who did this?”

  The man, the abomination, swallowed hard and looked at her. His eyes finally focused. He moved his mouth as though feeling out the new shape of his jaw before he tried to speak.

  “There was so much pain, so much blood. The women, they appeared from nowhere. I woke up in blood. I woke up like this. What am I? What did they...?”

  He growled and began convulsing, screaming with pain as his ribs broke and reset again and again. His body was trying to shift, but it wasn’t able to. Someone had made him something between a human and a lycan. A botched experiment, or some form of twisted torture. Elise stroked his hair tenderly and whispered soothing words in a language I didn’t understand. After a few minutes of his muscles tearing and resetting, he calmed and settled again. Panting and dripping with sweat, he gripped onto Elise’s hand and looked into her eyes.

  “Please.”

  His voice was barely above a whisper; the single word hung in the air.

  Elise said calmly, “Evie... do the kind thing.”

  Her eyes never left the face of the man; he couldn’t have been more than thirty. He had his whole life ahead of him, yet his eyes had already taken on a mildly glassy quality. He had given in. Whoever had done that to him, had stolen his life.

  I knelt down next to him, his eyes never leaving Elise’s calm face as she continued to stroke his hair. Her elegant fingers ran through his thick hair as though he were a little boy that she was staying with through a mild fever. His body tensed, preparing to try and shift again. His back began to arch, his face started to twist and contort with pain. I slit his throat before he could have known what was happening. He died with a small smile on his face; I hoped that he found peace. Elise gently placed his hand on his chest and
closed his eyes before she stood, her hands balled into fists.

  “I don’t know who did this, but they will pay. They are playing with things that are far above them, they are ruining lives.”

  I was a little taken aback by the passion and fury she exhibited. I hadn’t seen so much emotion from her since we were young. It vanished in the blink of an eye. Her calm visage replaced the anger. We had already buried one abomination behind her church, no words needed to be spoken to understand that this one would receive the same respect. They were beginning to become a regular occurrence in the city. The first had appeared out of nowhere when I was trying to find Quin after the coven had kidnapped him. Since then, two had shown up at Elise’s church. Both had died at her feet.

  Lysander had pressed against the back of my mind while Elise conducted the burial rites; his concern was almost palpable. I did my best to push him away, to mentally wrap his corner of my mind in black fabric and keep him out. Once the abomination had been suitably buried and respected, Elise led me through to her living area and made white tea; it was an hour before she finally spoke.

  “My lady has confirmed that the second hound could open a hellmouth. He would require a great number of sacrifices, and some help, but it can be done. This all appears to have been planned ahead, therefore we can assume he has some help at least. That means we need to move quickly, he could have the hellmouth open within two weeks.”

  The news hit me like a freight train. Part of me had assumed Lysander was full of shit, that perhaps his master had hoped, but nothing would come of it. The confirmation from the moon goddess was an entirely different thing.

  “Are the abominations related?”

  Her lip curled but she looked down and away, calming herself, before she said, “Not directly. Someone is trying to play at being a god, but we must focus on the more pressing matter.”

  I squeezed her hand gently, looking for comfort from her as much as trying to offer it.

  “This isn’t quite what I expected, when I became a priestess. Was that so naive of me?” she said quietly, a tear tumbling down her cheek.

  I pulled her close, her small frame fitting between my arms with ease. I didn’t know what to say to her, there were no words of comfort. We were facing a disaster unlike anything before, false platitudes would only make things worse. She pulled back from me a little. I brushed away her tears with my thumb. She looked to delicate and fragile, her white hair tousled and falling around her porcelain face. I wanted so badly to offer her support and strength as she had done for me so many times before.

  Taking a deep breath, she formed a smile and said firmly, “We will win this. Whatever it is.”

  I smiled back at her, trying to find some courage and faith. “We will.”

  I hoped that I’d find the strength and information I needed to believe my own words. And quickly.

  Exhaustion had sunk into my bones and consumed my thoughts; the sun had already set by the time I growled at the sticky lock on the front door. Two voices came from within my home, two male voices. I opened the door and shrugged off my leather jacket before I recognised the second one. Lysander.

  Quin grinned at me from the far side of the room. “Lysander’s moving in, isn’t that awesome?”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. I must have misheard him. My dear brother wouldn’t have been so stupid, so foolish, as to allow his curiosity to override his sense like that. Lysander walked over to me, a slight sway to his hips, a playful smile on his lips.

  “Where else was I to live? You’re my mistress, you have certain... obligations to look after me.”

  I looked past him to Quin; the grin remained plastered on his face.

  I smiled sweetly at Lysander. “We’ll get you a nice kennel and put it in the front garden area.”

  His lips quivered, threatening to break into a broader smile. Those bright blue eyes sparkled with merriment. I hated him.

  I crossed my arms and said, “Have you at least provided some useful information on the other hound and its plans?”

  His face fell; a flicker of amusement and pride formed within me.

  “There will be a number of sacrifices, and the city needs to be enveloped with a sense of fear. He will target innocents first, then he’ll require magical blood. A fae, a witch, then finally something infernal.”

  Quin practically bounded over. “Let’s eat. I’m starving. We can talk about the other hound over food.”

  I glared at him. His curiosity was overwhelming the weight of the situation. Taking a deep breath, I pushed aside the desire to shake Quin and tell him about the threat we were under. I reminded myself that he wasn’t stupid, he knew what was going on, he was just coping with it through cooking and curiosity. Personally I preferred to use my blades to calm my nerves, but we all had our own methods. I couldn’t complain too much, given how I benefitted from his cooking. I returned my attention to Lysander, who had his hands tucked in his jeans and that playful smile on his pretty mouth. It wasn’t appropriate to be considering how I wanted to trail my finger along those lips, or down his tightly toned chest. His smile widened and his eyes danced.

  I ground my teeth and focused on pressing against his presence in the back of my mind. I mentally instructed him to shift down into his hound form. His eyes darkened, the smile slipped from his face, before he shifted into his hound form. The large black hound refused to look at me. He lay down with his head drooped on his front paws in the middle of the living room. I walked around him and headed for a shower, ignoring the feeling of guilt that squirmed in my stomach.

  Quin kept looking pointedly between me and the hound while he was serving dinner. He made a point of setting a third place at the small table, and dug out a spare chair from somewhere.

  The hound hadn’t moved; his head remained down on his paws, with his tail tucked around him.

  “You’re bonded to him, Evie. You shouldn’t be so cruel.”

  The hound pricked an ear at that, a little hope blossoming within him. I pursed my lips and raised an eyebrow at Quin. I didn’t see an issue with the situation.

  With a heavy sigh I placed the cutlery on the table and said, “Lysander, you may shift if you please.”

  Quin looked far too pleased with himself. A bounce formed in his step and a broad grin spread across his face; I shook my head and took the seat opposite Quin. Lysander helped Quin serve the food, a smile firmly fixed on his face again. He sat between Quin and me; his eyes drank in every detail of the meal before him. I had to wonder if he’d eaten a normal meal before. Images of rotting meat and brutal kills slipped into my mind. I decided I didn’t want to know.

  “Thank you, Quin, this looks delicious,” Lysander said.

  I nodded and agreed as I bit into the Italian pasta. The cheese-laden cream complemented the slightly tart ham wonderfully. Quin really should have been a cook. Conversation didn’t really start. Everyone enjoyed their food while lost in their own worlds. Once the food was done, Quin finally seemed ready to discuss the situation at hand. I curled up on the sofa. Lysander settled on the floor near my feet in his human form.

  “Lysander, how easy would it be to stop the hound from opening the hellmouth?” I asked.

  “We just have to kill him,” he said as though it were as easy as slicing bread.

  Quin and I passed a questioning look between us; hellhounds were supposed to be difficult to kill.

  I said as softly as I could, not wanting to upset Lysander too much given I was stuck with him, “And how would we go about doing that?”

  He fidgeted and tried to press back against the bond between us. Quin sat in the armchair while we waited for Lysander to stop fighting his mental restraints.

  After much growling and squirming, he finally said, “A weapon formed by something celestial, another hound, or an infernal weapon.”

  I ran my fingers over his silky dark hair and purred, “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

  His shoulders tensed as he growled at me, but it took
on a softer tone where he clearly appreciated the softer contact. The contact had come so naturally. I reminded myself that I’d have done the same with a domestic dog.

  Quin stretched and said, “I’m sure Kadrix can arrange something, he’s very skilled and has the best magical inventory in the city.”

  “It’s a good thing we have him on our side, then,” I said, more to myself than anyone.

  Quin smiled, a small private smile.

  “Did Elise have anything of use to say?” he asked.

  I held his eye-contact and did my best to ignore the mild aggression to his words. I didn’t want to compete with him over friends.

  “She’ll help us with the hound situation. Another abomination showed up at her church.”

  Lysander rested his head against my ankle when I tensed at the memories of the poor man, the agony on his face. Quin’s face softened in response.

  I said to Lysander, “Can you find the other hound?”

  He growled, “No easier than you can.”

  The temptation to smack him around the back of the head and remind him of his place was strong.

  I was half asleep when the faint light from the living area spilt over my bed. A weight appeared at the bottom of my bed, the scent of hot metal and petrichor filled my nostrils.

  “Lysander?”

  He’d been given bedding and told to sleep on the sofa; it was large enough and quite comfortable. His face emerged from the darkness close to mine. Too close.

  “I should repay you for your kindness. Mistress.”

  The growl in his voice sent a delightful shiver through me. I didn’t like the way my body reacted to him. He placed his hands on either side of my ribs and leant over me, his chest barely inches from mine. He leant closer, his lips almost touching mine, his warm breath teased and promised so much more. I came to my senses and placed my hand on his chest pushing him back firmly. It wasn’t right. We couldn’t. I wasn’t about to take that sort of payment from him, or any other creature. My eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the pain and confusion on his face.