by Jayce Carter
Hunter offered me one hell of a leer. Including one hellhound who might just succeed…
“You said you wanted to show me something.” I tried to steer the conversation back on track and ignore the way my body still craved his touch. “I’m assuming it wasn’t just your penis.”
“Well, that is a sight to behold, as you well know.” He winked, then held his hand out to me.
I set mine in his, and he tugged me farther down the path we’d taken, the one that wound around between rock walls and opened into countless caves.
When we’d passed a few, I would have sworn I’d spotted red eyes gazing out at me from the opening. A quick glare from Hunter or, on occasion, a growl, sent whatever hid there running deeper into the darkness.
Everyone else had stayed at the camp we’d made, seeming to trust Hunter with me on his own. Then again, if anyone knew how to keep someone alive out here, it was him.
This was his home.
Each time I thought that, it weirded me out again. Hell didn’t seem like a home to me at all.
Has anywhere seemed like a home?
Before the melancholy thought could burrow in too deep, Hunter stopped short. He pulled my hand until I stood beside him, and in front of us?
A huge ravine was tucked between two sprawling mountains. In the center, trees rose, and a red river sliced through the place. Things crawled along the far mountain face, though they were too far away for me to make out details.
“What’s this?”
“This is the pass.”
I frowned, recalling the conversation with Jerrod. “I thought you said we were going through that town.”
“Jerrod was far too anxious to know where we were headed for me to tell him the truth.”
“Why would he care?”
Hunter lowered himself to sitting, dangling his legs over the edge of the cliff. A tug to my hand got me to take a place beside him before he slid his arm around my waist, as if wanting to make sure I stayed close and didn’t tumble off. “You don’t belong here, shadow-girl.”
“If the whole throwing up thing didn’t tell me that, I’m pretty sure the spider sold the point to me. I could tell him I don’t want to be here anymore than he wants me here.”
Hunter shook his head, his fingers stroking my side as if an unconscious motion. “You don’t understand. Hell is the antithesis of the living realm. Life exists there, corporeal form, light. Here it’s the opposite—darkness, smoke, death. Just like creatures in the living realm harness the power of death and shadow because it is a power there, creatures from hell are drawn to the living the few times they manage to get here.”
The way Jerrod had stared at me made slightly more sense, and terrified me even more. “How exactly do they harness it? I’m guessing it isn’t a process I’d enjoy.”
“You don’t need to worry about that, because I won’t let it happen. Jerrod is a sneaky fucker, though, and I have no doubt he’s got something planned.”
I wanted to argue, to remind him I needed to understand the dangers I faced, but the tight lines of his face made me listen just this once. If he found the idea this objectionable, it was probably something I was better off not knowing.
“I never figured hell for having towns. It’s been all empty so far.”
“That’s because I’ve led us through the wilderness. I know every inch of this realm, so I’ve avoided anything with other beings. I was hoping no one would catch your trail, but Jerrod is a good tracker.”
“So why lie to him if he can just follow us?”
“Because if he thought we were headed there, he’d plan based on that. Jerrod is one of the weaker hellhounds, but he’s one of the cleverest. He wins by plans, by ambushes and exploitations.” A hesitation in his tone made me frown.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Hunter pointed at the ravine. “Normally we’d take a path down there, cross it, then follow a cave system on the other side. It would let us bypass the cities, including Styx.”
“But…?”
“You see the movement.”
Even as I tried to ignore the way when I stopped forcing just a little, the entire ravine looked a bit like hands moving along the ground, I couldn’t forget it.
“Jerrod said there were creatures.”
“There are always creatures, but this is different.” Hunter hopped to his feet and grabbed a large rock from behind us. He hurled it, and it took a long time to fall to the ground beneath. I lost track of it, my vision not good enough to see where it landed below, but I didn’t need to see to know.
The floor of the ravine went wild. Things I couldn’t fathom much less identify moved in the sudden chaos. Some were so small I couldn’t make them out, but some had to be the size of elephants, slithering among the trees and crawling from the red river.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“This isn’t an accident. For a concentration of beasts like this to happen, someone did it on purpose.”
“How?”
“A lure. You can’t see it, but I smell it. Someone placed a lure at the center of that ravine to attract all those things into such a small area. If we can’t use the pass, we won’t have a choice but having to go through the more populated areas. More beings cluster around the center of hell, so if we have to go that way, we can’t avoid them. The pass was the easy, safer way, but someone blocked it. Someone wants us to have to go through the cities.”
“Who? Jerrod?”
“Probably. He’s the only one who knew where we were going. Still, he usually couldn’t resist setting a lure.”
I froze as I stared down, thinking about everything Hunter had said, a shiver as the pieces fell together, the thing he hadn’t said. “What exactly is the lure, Hunter?”
“There is only one thing that can call that many creatures, one thing that beings from hell want more than anything else.”
“Something mortal?”
He nodded, then took my hand and helped me up. “There’s nothing we can do about whoever they tore apart down there to make it, but I swear, I won’t let the same happen to you.”
A weak laugh left me, the sort that people did when overwhelmed and without options. “How do they even get mortals here?”
“They fall this way now and again. Sometimes they’re snatched by the creatures that can pass through, sometimes they are unlucky enough to slip through a crack that can occur. I’d say there are perhaps a dozen or so a year.”
“Have you ever brought one?”
He shook his head. “Hellhounds can pass, but we can’t bring anyone else with us. You’re looking at wardens, mages, Lucifer or some of his kids. It isn’t easy and the creatures that can do it aren’t the ones who crave mortals, so it doesn’t happen much.”
I blew out a breath when there wasn’t anything to say back. “So, I guess we’re going to go through the cities, then?”
“It looks that way.”
“And here I thought I wouldn’t get to see any sights.”
He didn’t even bother to laugh at the stupid joke, but I couldn’t blame him for that.
There was something working against us, something forcing us toward the cities, and there was no way it could be good.
If someone in hell wanted something, it was a good bet it wouldn’t be something I liked.
Not that I had much of a choice…
Chapter Four
The small town looked normal in an odd way, and that made it all the more unsettling. Hell should be kind enough to make sure their towns look like shitty haunted houses from Halloween.
Hunter had given me a rundown of basic etiquette, which had amounted to “don’t tell anyone what you are, don’t act weak, don’t go anywhere alone, and don’t look anyone in the eye.”
In addition, he’d brought a damp and sticky cloak with a hood and wrapped it around me.
I tried to ignore the scent of it—which I could only describe as rot—but it overpowered everything else.
&nb
sp; According to him, it should hide some of the smell of my mortality, which, after hearing about how tasty creatures in hell found me, sounded like a good idea.
Hunter had taken off an hour before to scout the town ahead of us and run some errands. I hadn’t asked what errands meant in hell, but I figured it wasn’t grabbing a cup of overpriced coffee and hitting up the post office.
Kase walked behind me, Troy to my left and Grant to my right.
I pulled at my cloak. “Why don’t you all have to wear these?”
Grant had a casual tone but a sharp gaze as he checked our surroundings. “Because we don’t smell like humans.”
“You’re basically human,” I pointed out. “I saw you trip and fall when we had to climb that fence. I bet you still have a bloodied knee.”
He let out a soft, low laugh. “I may be more fragile, but I’m still not human. What they’re attracted to is mortality. It’s that humans age and die. None of us do that, so we’re useless to them.”
“It seems unfair that I both have to age and die and creatures from hell are after me. I feel like that is the short end of the stick.”
“If it makes you feel any better, they’d probably tear apart Troy too if they could. He doesn’t smell as good as you do, but his blood is closer to human than the rest of us. It’d be best if he didn’t bleed.”
Troy snorted, something that said he hadn’t found the comment funny. “I’ll do my best.”
“So werewolves have human blood?”
“Close enough to,” Grant said when Troy didn’t seem to want to discuss it. “When they’re in human form, they’re almost impossible to tell apart. It’s why they can live in the human world so easily. Even blood tests won’t show a difference. It won’t give the things here any power, but they’d probably enjoy the taste.”
Troy answered that with a low growl, telling me he was as testy as he’d been since we’d arrived.
And, yes, I realized that being annoyed after being dragged to hell was probably a fair reaction, but I knew damn well it had nothing to do with the location and everything to do with me.
Well, with his own self-hatred, at least.
“That’s where Hunter told us to meet him,” Kase said from behind us.
Up ahead was a large building. four stories tall, built of stone and crumbling at the corners. Everything in the town was an odd mixture of medieval and modern. Lights lines the streets, but instead of electricity they glowed with either flames or a sickly green tint that reminded me of that spider’s blood.
The people that milled around—it was hard to call them people—took little notice of us and I did my best not to stare.
Some looked normal enough, though those walked with a fearful gait, quick and unsure. Others were twisted, only looking vaguely human. Some had lips that curled up and rows of fangs, eyes that were all sorts of colors but rarely ones I’d ever seen before. Yellows, orange, green, red, and all glowing. Their limbs were mishappen, often different lengths and with masses on them, and most were far taller than any human. Some had wings, hooves or claws that tipped their fingers, all things that said I needed to keep in mind what Hunter had said.
A man sat on a low fence that lined a shop, wearing nothing but a pair of ragged shorts, boils over his head that pulsed as if they might break open at any moment. His left arm was longer than it should have been, and burns covered his right side.
I tried not to stare, but we met gazes for a moment, and something sinister crept through that connection, as if whatever was inside him was powerful enough to cross the distance and threaten me.
Kase put a hand on the nape of my neck and shoved me forward, breaking the connection.
A dark laugh came from behind us, as if the man had enjoyed the little interaction.
“Don’t you remember Hunter’s warning? Avoid eye contact, Ava,” Kase scolded.
“What was that?” I asked.
“Beings in hell like their games, and whether it’s harming someone’s body or tearing apart their mind, they don’t much care.”
I might have argued, except I still felt slime covering me from that split second of connection, and I had no desire to repeat it. I shuddered to think what might have happened if Kase hadn’t kept me moving.
“What is he?”
Kase answered, though he kept his hand on my neck so I moved forward. “It’s a spirit. Most of the beings you’ll see here are spirits that were sent to hell.”
“Why does he look like that then?”
“Because hell twists things here. The longer spirits are here, the worse they are, the more hell changes them into things like that.”
The thought that the creatures I’d seen in the town were people—or at least had been at one time—made me grateful for Kase’s grip. Hell wasn’t the sort of place I wanted to go wandering alone in.
We went to the large building, a sign hanging outside I couldn’t read. At least, I couldn’t at first. After a moment, the foreign symbols shimmered, and after a moment, I understood it. Skull Point Inn.
I frowned, glancing around, finding that each other sign did the same thing. I couldn’t read the words, didn’t understand the letters, and yet after a moment it came to me, like some old instinct.
“Can you read that?” I asked, pointed at the sign.
Grant nodded. “I studied some of the demon languages when I was in the guild. I wouldn’t want to try and write love poems, but I can get by.”
“Why isn’t anyone speaking the other language?”
“They are. Hell isn’t entirely corporeal, which means language isn’t entirely spoken. It’s more fluid, like thought exchange. The language doesn’t matter, because it’s the meaning that is passed person to…” He hesitated, then added, “person.”
Troy pulled open the door to the Inn, surveying it before moving through the doorway and letting us enter.
I expected it to be more…hellish? Medieval? Instead, the inside look like a strip club, without the neon lights. Flames danced along the rafters to light the place, and tall tables and booths were set throughout. Center columns sat with people dancing on them, dressed in very little.
There were both women and men, but I didn’t feel the desire to give hell credit for gender equality in this. A woman was on one closest to the door, wearing nothing, her skin a deep purple, and with black horns that went from just above her temple to curl back, like a ram’s. Her nipples were black, matching her lips and nails, and a tail went from just above her ass, tipped with what looked like a black arrowhead.
She moved gracefully, reminding me of a rattlesnake—movements smooth but no doubt lethal.
Others sat around where she danced, leering, drinking, laughing.
If it weren’t for the monstrous beings there, I would have thought I was in any seedy strip club or bar back home.
Not that I had been in many, but I watched TV.
“He’s not here,” Troy pointed out.
“Let’s grab a seat and wait.” Grant nodded at a booth near the back.
We piled in, with me sandwiched between Kase and Grant, Troy at the end. They offered vicious looks to anyone who risked glancing our way, but it seemed to keep anyone from coming closer.
A waitress approached, and it was funny that she had the same tired expression all servers had. It seemed service jobs were the same no matter where a person was.
Grant ordered for everyone and tossed what looked like small pieces of bone on the table, which she scooped up happily.
At my look, Grant shrugged. “I’ve been to hell a time or two before.”
“Why?”
“There are some ingredients for spells you can’t get anywhere else. Plus, come on, look around.” He gestured to one of the other dancers, this one a male.
The man was lithe, his fingers longer than a human’s, tipped not with black like the woman’s but with flames. In fact, fire danced over his entire body like a pet, moving along his arms, down his spine, over his hips. He grasped
the pole at the center of his platform and arched backward, and the sudden warmth in my cheeks outed me for never having spent much time in a strip club before.
Grant chuckled, then elbowed me. “They’re pretty good at controlling those flames, and a burn or two is a very worthwhile risk.”
I muttered beneath my breath, calling him a man-whore, and trying to pretend I was not at all jealous.
Food and drinks came, but before I took a sip from the cup set before me, Grant picked it up and sniffed it. He dipped a finger in, then whispered a few words. The liquid on his finger glowed blue, so he pushed it back toward me. “It’s safe. Well, safe enough. It won’t kill you, at least.”
Somehow ‘won’t kill you’ seemed like the best I’d get in hell.
I took a drink of whatever was in my cup and promptly coughed it back up. It felt like acid going down my throat, some strange and all together bad mixture of liquor, cinnamon and peppermint.
Grant slapped his hand against my back, helping me to expel the rest.
“What is that?” I asked once I caught my breath.
“You remember how humans used to drink so much beer because it was safer than water? Well, you’ve seen the rivers here…”
“That tastes like liquid fire. How can you drink it?”
Grant shrugged and took a gulp of his own. He grimaced the way one might after their first shot but kept it down. “It’s not so bad after the first few gulps. They sort of burn off all the taste buds.”
Troy pushed his cup away. “Is it really a good idea to drink anything that has alcohol here? We aren’t exactly in friendly territory.”
Grant placed his hand, palm down, then flipped it over to reveal pills that hadn’t been there before. “We need to drink, and water is hard to come by, which is why all ours goes to the fragile one. Ambrosia, the drug added to this, can put an immortal or demon on their ass, but it’ll also kill anything dangerous in the liquid. Don’t worry, though. Just chew one of these and it’ll sober you up instantly.” He handed one to each of us, and I tucked mine in my pocket.
