Hell High

by Cindi Madsen

  Still nothing. That I could see, anyway. But my instincts screamed that I wasn’t alone, my every move being tracked.

  All the blood in my body rushed to my head, my rapid pulse so loud I worried I’d miss a noise if there was one to be heard.

  I glanced around like a paranoid lunatic, walking forward a few steps and then backward a few.

  Movement to my right caught my eye, and I pivoted to fully face whatever I’d seen. A large crow—I swore it was the same one who’d been hounding me lately—swooped down next to me.

  It’s just a coincidence. There’s got to be tons of crows here.

  Great big hulking crows with eyes that seem overly intelligent.

  Ridiculous or not, the something’s-strange-in-the-neighborhood vibe screeched through me and jerked my limbs into motion. I kept a brisk pace, just a hair shy from running, because I’d lost sight of the crow and still couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the danger was. Behind or before me or on either side—it felt like it had me surrounded.

  For all I knew, I was sprinting toward danger.

  Maybe let’s save those kinds of thoughts for after we get home safely, brain.

  The crow swooped next to me and cawed, the noise echoing through my ears. “Ouch, you stupid sky rat.”

  As odd as it was, the loud, birdlike noise was a relief. “I bet you all have big families, and each one of you is more obnoxious than the other.”

  Talking to a bird didn’t exactly scream normal, but I was doing my best to convince myself that my imagination was taking things to a place it didn’t need to.

  The crow flapped its wings, soaring higher and then landing on a high branch. It let out another cry, equally as loud and annoying. You might even call it foul, I thought, snorting at my own joke.

  I can’t believe I worked myself up over a stupid bird. I exhaled, sending my worries out with the puff of air.

  A peculiar noise cut through the silence, like the beating of horse hooves, only in rapid succession. It grew louder and louder, and then the shadows in front of me split apart, becoming a solid figure instead of a blob of moving darkness.

  I blinked, thinking I must be seeing things. Five goat legs stuck up like the spokes on a bicycle wheel, and the head of a lion acted as the center. He rolled toward me, the clip-clop noise picking up again. I backpedaled and lifted my fists.

  I’m halfway between Grim’s place and the castle. Which way do I run?

  My back smacked into something solid, and two hands clamped onto my shoulder. I froze, the sound of my racing heart roaring through my brain. Please be a tree, please be a tree.

  A tree with arms. Hey, we’re in Hell, so why not?

  “So we meet again,” a voice rasped in my ear, and warm, putrid breath wafted across my neck.

  Dreading what I was about to do but unable to stop myself, I glanced over my shoulder.

  Ratman.

  A large gash split his face, and I got the feeling he was the type of demon-animal thing to hold a grudge.

  Hysteria clawed at my insides, and I tried to smother it. Tried to remember that I’d taken on this guy before and won, and that I had training.

  The elbow’s one of the hardest parts of the body. I sucked in a lungful of air and swung my elbow back, hard and fast. A crunching noise accompanied the hit that vibrated the bones in my arm, and Ratman stumbled away, holding his nose and emanating a shriek of pain and rage.

  How about a sword this time? Picturing a nice big sword, I snapped my fingers.

  The weight of the metal blade almost toppled me over, and I barely maintained my grip on the hilt. Next time I’m totally going with a nice skinny sword.

  But it was too late now because the goat-lion creature was coming at me.

  With a grunt, I raised the sword and slashed the blade through the air. Completely missing the demon. “Man, this is harder than it looks.”

  I tried again as he rolled around me on his hooved, furry legs, his eyes tracking my every movement.

  “Rarh!” This time I nicked a leg, maybe two, my swings way too slow.

  Arms encircled me, pinning the sword down at my side, and my feet left the ground as Ratman lifted me in the air.

  “You didn’t get enough of me yet?” I asked, doing my best to sound tough, but the lack of air took the wind out of my intimidating sails. I squirmed and swung back my heel in a donkey-kick type move.

  Got lucky and hit him in the crotch.

  He dropped me and groaned, and I didn’t wait to see how long it took him to recover. Tightening my grip on my ridiculously heavy weapon, I sprinted like I’d never sprinted before, ignoring the way my lungs pleaded for oxygen and my muscles wailed for a break.

  I veered off the path, darting through trees and dodging the low branches, my sights set on the castle. “Dad! Anybody!”

  Home was still too far off, and my limbs dragged more each step. Exhaustion tugged at me, my body refusing to realize it wasn’t an ideal time for a nap, and I nearly tripped on my stupid sword. What’s wrong with me? Why does it feel like I’ve been drugged?

  If I got an extra second, I was so switching it up for a gun.

  Or maybe I could summon something more powerful than a gun.

  “I call thee forth, Satan!”

  The air didn’t crackle; Dad didn’t suddenly appear.

  Hey, it was worth a shot. A shot in—

  Someone slammed into my back. I hit the ground hard, and my sword flew out of my hand, my breath somewhere with it. That was what I got for trying to be quippy while running for my life.

  My palms and knees stung, I tasted blood, and everything hurt. Plus this bastard rathole was heavy. I kicked and bucked, digging my fingers into the ground and trying to pull myself out from under him.

  A clawed hand shoved down my head, tiny rocks biting into my cheek. Ratman’s jagged teeth flashed inches away from my eye, and his whiskers tickled my ear—ew. “I got her,” he rasped. “I got the princess!”

  The crow flew past, cawing like mad. Giant hairy arms wrapped around me as Ratman pulled me to my feet. He tugged me backward, headed deeper into the trees and away from the castle.

  I dragged my heels. “Help! Help!”

  His disgusting paw-hand came over my mouth, and he leaned close, his rancid sulfur breath so bad I wished for the ability to never smell again. “Be quiet or I’ll make you be quiet.”

  His eyes were steady for just long enough to latch on to them. Let me go. As an afterthought, I added. And attack the creature you came with.

  He shook his head as if he were emptying it of the words I’d told him, and my heart stopped. Oh shit. He must be immune.

  But then he went dead behind the eyes, dropped me, and charged after the demon-goat mutant.

  I forced one foot in front of the other, desperate to get far, far away before my influence wore off and the creatures renewed their attack. My limbs suddenly weighed a hundred pounds, and speaking of pound, what was that horrible hammering in my head?

  The world tipped under my feet, the wading-through-cement phenomenon intensifying. I crashed to my knees again, not sure which way was up or down anymore. It was like every ounce of my energy had been drained, and I had the strangest overwhelming craving for more, even though that didn’t make sense. I felt the buzz of power out there beyond my reach, but I stretched out my hand all the same.

  “Lilith!” Dad ran into the clearing. For the first time in my life I was ecstatic to see him.

  “Dad.” My sluggish body worked to catch up to my million-beats-a-minute heart rate, and I pushed to my feet and stumbled toward him.

  The lights from the castle illuminated his skin, giving it a reddish tinge. “I swore I heard you yell, and I got this sense…” He finally reached me, and I fell into his arms, relying on him to hold me upright. “What happened?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him.

  And hesitated.

  A quick glance over my shoulder showed no sign of my attackers. If I told him I’d been
ambushed, it would mean full protection, a guard night and day.

  It would mean no more Tristan.

  Am I really considering not telling Dad to go after those creatures?

  Am I really willing to give up Tristan because of them?

  Tristan made being here bearable. A sharp twinge went through me as I thought of losing him, and I couldn’t bring myself to spit out the truth. Not before I looked at every other option.

  From now on I’ll be on my guard and carry weapons at all times. I’ll take Grim and Tristan up on their offers to walk me home. I’ll be more careful, and it’ll be okay. Because I’ll have Tristan to help make it okay.

  Dad cupped my chin and tipped my face to his. “Lily? I asked you what happened. Are you okay?”

  I took in my disheveled appearance, searching for how to respond—fortunately I was fast on my feet and not totally opposed to lying. “It’s so stupid, but I got a bit turned around and then I tripped.”

  I limped, favoring my left leg, and it wasn’t even that far of an act. It felt like I’d been steamrolled and after they’d flattened me, they backed the machine over me again. “I hit the ground hard and rolled down a hill, and for a minute I thought my leg was broken, so I got freaked out and yelled for you.” I lifted my ankle and wobbled it around. “But I think it’s just a sprain, so I’m sorry I scared you for no reason.”

  “No reason, my ass. You’re hurt.” Dad wrapped his arm around my waist, shouldering a good portion of my weight, and I was too tired not to give in. I could hear the worry in his voice, and while he was an excellent actor, I didn’t think anyone was that good. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, walking through the woods after dark when there’s a perfectly good trail.”

  Yeah, a trail evil creatures have no problem finding. “I saw a rat on it.”

  “For the love of all that is unholy,” Dad said, exasperation filling his voice as he shook his head. “I own a world filled with demons and dragons and things that could kill you a hundred different ways, and you’re scared of a little rat? We’ve got to toughen you up so that you’re not in the middle of giving orders and then end up running around while shrieking about rats.”

  I scowled. “He was really, really gross. And he wasn’t little, either.”

  One corner of Dad’s mouth lifted, and his grip on me tightened. “Let’s get you home. Then I’ll send Baal out and see what he can do about the vermin near the trail.”

  Here Dad was, supremely powerful and wanting to protect me. All I needed to do was tell him what I’d seen to make sure I never had to fight that grotesque Ratman again. Obviously he wasn’t going to give up.

  But I was the stupid girl who was going to risk it all for a charming guy.

  Looked like I owed Mom about a hundred apologies.

  Twenty-Nine

  By the time I’d showered and regained a bit of my energy, I was sure I’d made the right decision by not telling Dad I’d been attacked.

  Almost sure. Like ninety, maybe eighty percent.

  All I had to do was remember Tristan’s lips against mine and how amazing it felt to be wrapped in his arms. As long as we were together, I could face anything those creatures that shouldn’t exist threw at me. Still, it seemed only logical to poke around and see what I could find out about Ratman and Goatie McLionFace. If curiosity was one of my weaknesses, I might as well turn it into a strength.

  I sat on the love seat in my usual spot, used my finger to draw a design in the velvet, and did my best to put on a casual-cool front. “Hey, Dad, do you have any enemies?”

  Dad continued to flip through his never-ending stack of files. Every night he had a new pile—a new set of people he was trying or had already gotten to. “You mean besides do-gooders, priests, and the Host of Heaven, including the annoying big guy who thinks he should have all the power?” His lip curled. “We don’t refer to him down here unless it’s to curse him.”

  “Wow. That’s so nice and blasphemous of you.” I crossed one leg over the other and then decided I needed my right leg on top. “I meant more like local enemies. Here in Hell.”

  He dropped the files on his lap and looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Why? What did you hear?”

  “Nothing. I just…” I shrugged. “You know, learning about the family business. I wanted to know if there was anyone here I should be wary of.”

  “There will always be power-hungry fools. Nothing I can’t handle, and none of them would dare lay a finger on you. It’s one reason I was so hard on Naamah and Phegor.”

  “Pheg— Oh, right. Red Face.”

  Dad tapped his pen against his bottom lip. “Still, I felt better when you had an escort. Abigor used to bring you home more than not. Why did that stop?”

  Me and my stupid big mouth. “An escort’s not necessary. I already told you that Abigor smothers me, and I need time to walk and think after an intense day of training.” I didn’t want to cross that line between risky and reckless, so I added, “Maybe I should be armed, though. Just in case.”

  “You have built-in weapons,” Dad said as he made notes on the top file. “You simply need to learn to use them.”

  “Okay, and I am and all, plus my Persuasion training, but one can never be too prepared.”

  Dad reached up and ran his fingertips over his jaw. “Good point. Downstairs, next to the tech room is the weapons room. The right side is mostly ancient torture tools, back in the days when I used to—”

  “I’ve got enough nightmares, thanks,” I said, knowing he’d go into way more detail than I could stomach.

  He seemed perplexed that I didn’t want to know more—and just when I thought he was starting to almost get me. “Swords and daggers are on the left wall. And to the back, I’ve got a few modern devices, such as Taser guns and that kind of thing.”

  I ran a finger over the angel wings on my necklace, focusing on the grooves to help soothe my nerves. “What about real guns?”

  “Too quick and easy.” His eyebrows drew together, and he cocked his head. “You think you need a gun?”

  “No. I just thought”—I gave my best nonchalant shrug—“I could shoot the rats from farther away. But stabby and shocky will do just fine.”

  “You and the rats,” he said with a sigh before returning to his work, so yay for me for pulling off the lie.

  I stood, my sights set on the open archway.

  Dad cleared his throat. “To be on the safe side, I want you to have an escort if you’re going to be out after the suns go down.”

  I opened my mouth to argue.

  “It’s not up for discussion.” He grabbed his stamp—the big one, so Temptation in Progress—inked it, and marked the file, then flipped to the next one.

  Grumbling to myself about how unfair it all was, and how he wouldn’t insist on an escort if I were a boy, I made my way to the weapons room. Funny how you needed a code to see people’s profiles, but not for the weapons room.

  Along the right side of the wall were all sorts of ancient tools. There were a couple of wooden, spiked chairs. “Whoa. Dad wasn’t kidding.”

  My curiosity got the best of me, and I moved closer to the old-school torture devices. Wooden planks with handcuffs; a metal contraption I stared at for several seconds before deciding the chin went at the bottom, and then you screwed the spike into the top of the head.

  That’s…disturbing.

  A rusted iron mummy bin stood open. Inside, spikes shot out, no doubt puncturing anyone who was unfortunate enough to be trapped inside. The ick factor shot through the roof when I spotted what looked suspiciously like blood on the tips. “Okay. Morbid curiosity satisfied.”

  A few deep breaths helped with the dizziness, but I was beyond ready to get the weapons I came for and get out of here.

  I found a stun gun that sent out a pretty blue spark when I pushed the button. Definitely a keeper. I snagged a pair of wicked knives, thinking I might as well embrace the Hell-girl aesthetic and get black boots to hide them in.
/>   The swords mounted on the wall were cool, but as I’d learned earlier this evening, blades that big were heavy and not easy to carry.

  A bejeweled yet deadly dagger caught my attention, so I added that to my stash as well.

  I wasn’t even going to pretend I wasn’t going to use my powers anymore, because I was quickly learning it was next to impossible with everything stacked against me, including the monsters who were growing in numbers.

  At least being armed should help me use my powers less. As far as goals went, I’d stick with the basics for now: spend as much time with Tristan as possible, survive the rest of my training, and fix everything that I’d managed to break when I got back to Earth.

  Only 326 days and counting.

  A pang went through my chest. No more Tristan after that many days? It was crazy to even think like that. But for the first time since I’d arrived, I didn’t wish for the days to speed up. Just the hours until I was with him again.

  Thirty

  What was I thinking? That I could just strap on some knives, load my bag with weapons, and skip to school like I hadn’t been attacked last night?

  Actually that was exactly what I’d thought. But hello, there were at least two mutant creatures after me, and just because they’d only come for me in the evening so far didn’t mean I was going to let my guard down. My muscles were coiled tight, ready to spring into action at any sign of danger. The entire walk to school I felt twitchy. Moving shadows, the slightest noise, and stupid freaking crows all made me jump.

  Even as I neared the school, I couldn’t relax. Every face I passed seemed like a possible enemy. I had to figure out who was after me, or I’d give myself a stroke.

  There’s got to be a way I can find out who’s responsible, I thought as I entered Hell High. Then I can sic Dad on them, and everything can go back to—

  A hand clamped onto my arm and yanked me into a darkened hallway.

  I pulled the knife I’d stashed in the waistband of my shorts, flicking out the blade as I spun around.

  Tristan caught my wrist, mere inches before the gleaming tip lodged into his chest. “Whoa! It’s just me.”