“Oh she’s been touched. But not by you Way-Finder. At least not yet. Maybe you could find your way to her—” Garfunkel not so much said as leered.
“Ahh, enough,” I growled. If we survived this, I was going to have to sit Garfunkel down and talk about his cheeky ways.
Orion’s eyes lingered on my bustline for a few moments longer than they should have before he offered me his hand.
I edged away from him, pressing my back against the wall so I could push myself to my feet. If he touched me for too long, I might not be able to resist him. Part of him was the Orion I knew … He placed his hand my shoulder and I slung it away.
“I must help you,” he said with a smirk. “If you are not to slow me down.”
“Slow you down? I don’t even know where you’re going.”
“To the surface.”
I rubbed my forehead, wincing when my fingertips passed over a cut. The surface would be nice—you know modern medical treatment. But I’d promised the Jersey Devil I’d help him and time was running out, especially if Typhon was nearing some buried hidden power. “Can you find a way back to Typhon’s group?”
Orion just stared at me. “You want to go back to him? You’re crazier than I thought.”
“He’s not wrong,” Garfunkel said.
“Maybe I am crazy,” I said. “But Typhon’s got something on him that I need.” I bit back a pain flaring up on my arm. Judging by the tears in my jacket sleeve, I must have scraped it during the lab attack.
“Now is my chance to escape his employment. You think I’ll just lead you to him?” He slid his eyes down my neck again, pausing before skimming down my waist and legs. “What are you proposing on offering me?”
Ugh. Seven Sins Orion would be lucky if I didn’t kill him. After he snapped my neck in the Arena, I didn’t think I’d hesitate if put in the same position. I just hoped it didn’t come to that.
I turned to my shoulders for suggestions and Garfunkel said, “I think he’s talking about sex—”
“His pride!” Simon shouted from his shoulder pad. “Wound his pride!”
I mulled it over. So the Seven Deadly Sins were coursing through my partner’s system. Sure, they made him prideful and lusty—and I could use that to my advantage.
“Well?” Orion asked, tugging playfully at his belt.
I put on my strongest face. “You don’t think you can find Typhon, do you?”
The emotion flitted over his face for just an instant, but I saw it—wounded pride.
“Yes, I can find him. I am the Wayfinder.”
I waved dismissively. “Yeah but there’s so much rock between us and them—”
“You insult me. I know where they are going.”
Aha! So he did know what Typhon was looking for. “Where are they going?”
Orion grimaced as if he knew he’d been caught in a lie. “Some ancient gate far underground. I uh, caught its scent when I was overseeing the digging. Typhon and his men will have no problem reaching it within a couple hours, especially with the Brotherhood of Zeus on their trail, out for blood.”
“Really?” I said. “I bet you can’t get us there first.”
Orion set his mouth. “You wish to make a wager?”
“Nope. I just don’t think you can do it.”
I grinned as Orion made a small fist at his side. “Girl, I will prove you wrong.”
I would have commented on how he’d addressed me again, but the look in his eyes bordered on wrathful, and I knew I had to be careful. In my current condition, I was in no shape to fight him.
Instead I gestured at the tunnel before us. “Lead the way, Star Boy.”
I hadn’t meant to use that last nickname—I knew Orion didn’t like it—but it just slipped out. Orion’s eyes twitched and then he huffed and rounded away from me.
A moment of recollection?
Reaching into his tactical backpack, Orion tossed me an identical flashlight. “Try to keep up,” he said, and trudged forward into the dark.
I caught my breath and pushed away from the wall. Was he starting to remember me? Maybe. I just wished the Formula would hurry up and wear off.
“I think you two might still make a good couple … one day,” Garfunkel said.
“I’m sure he’ll come around?” Simon offered hopefully.
“Lions and Tigers and Bogeys, Oh My!”
Orion set a hardy pace, and I kept up as best as I could, but I was straining with the effort, continuously having to brace myself against the wall. He stopped a few times when the tunnel branched off, allowing me brief respites.
But my already exhausted body coupled with the minor injuries in Typhon’s lab were taking their toll.
“What happened when you were dead?” Garfunkel said.
Simon shushed him. “Don’t be so insensitive.”
“Theo can be insensitive. Why can’t I—”
“I’d rather not talk about it,” I said.
“We’re family,” Garfunkel said. “I’m curious—”
“She doesn’t want to talk about it,” Simon said.
“Fine. But who’s keeping secrets now?”
I cringed. I hated when Garfunkel’s thoughts and words matched mine. It made me feel like a bad person or whatever. Why was I keeping the Jersey Devil a secret from them? I didn’t know. Maybe I didn’t feel deserving of the title “champion.” Or maybe part of me really felt like I’d just made a deal with the devil—er, the devil’s 13th illegitimate son.
But he’d given me a chance to see my mother before she died.
My insides knotted and I bit my lip. I recalled the flatlining of my mother’s heartrate monitor when she was sucked back to Earth in the InBetween.
I’d tried to suck it up and keep my mind off it, had willed my body to keep carrying on regardless of my low health bar … But I couldn’t avoid the hard truth any longer.
Wavering, I caught myself against the wall yet again. I’d be damned if I was going to collapse again.
“Theo, are you OK?” Simon asked.
You couldn’t save her, a voice said in my head. And now you’re just a scared little girl who can’t find her way.”
“Am not.”
Admit it. You’re lost …
“I am not. I am not,” I repeated under my breath like a mantra.
Garfunkel scrunched up his nose. “Theo, are you not taking your meds again?”
“I’m not on any meds!” I said, and Orion’s flashlight swiveled around to face me. “I’m not!”
Orion muttered something about the crazier, the better in the hay, which made me madder.
“Shut up, you prick!”
Orion smirked.
Then my legs gave out again. And I blacked out.
I woke up sitting against the wall, luckily, not in a slime patch. My flashlight lay in my lap, casting the shadows of my feet upon the opposite wall, nearly touching my soles. Orion sat off to the side, chewing on some jerky, by the sound of the tearing of dry, leather-like meat.
A sudden pain flared in my arm and I jumped.
“She’s awake,” Garfunkel said, thankfully not jumping up and tugging on my cheek like he sometimes did when I’d fall asleep during a movie.
Tiny hands slapped a bandage over my arm and I glanced down to see Garfunkel clinging to my bicep just below the bandage. Balancing on my shoulder was Simon with a travel-sized squirt bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
“What are you guys …” I brushed some bangs out of my eyes and felt a bandage over my forehead too. I could only imagine Simon and Garfunkel suspended over my face like window cleaners on a skyscraper, gripping my hair.
“We got you all patched up,” Simon said as he hopped back into his shoulder pad and secured the peroxide with his stash of other health precautions.
I laughed. “You two. Thanks.”
“Told you she’d appreciate it!” Simon called out from his shoulder pad.
Garfunkel hoisted himself up onto his shoulder pad and clapped his hands together.
“Guess she’s got a soul after all,” he said offhandedly.
I stiffened, recalling the Jersey Devil’s caution concerning Re-Lifing and souls. “What was that?”
“Oh, you know, we’ve been discussing whether or not you came back from being dead with a soul. I said you didn’t.” He jerked at my right shoulder. “He stuck up for you though. Guess you’re back to normal, mostly.”
“Eh, maybe more like 35% normal now.” I laughed nervously.
“It’s just, the Arena isn’t made for humans,” Garfunkel said.
“I wasn’t dead for that long, was I?”
“Long enough to call it,” Garfunkel said. “Five minutes?”
Shit, I thought. Long enough to cause brain damage under ordinary conditions.
“If Orion hadn’t scooped you up when he did and carried you back to the lab, GoneGods only knows what would have happened to you,” Simon said.
I thought it over. Glanced at Orion sitting off to the side. “If you didn’t remember being my partner, why did you carry me off the Arena floor?”
Orion took a squirt of water into his mouth from a leather canteen. “I am not exactly sure. The Arena does not resurrect humans but it did not seem right to let you lie there. You were a worthy opponent.” He scratched his chin as if unraveling a riddle. “If the Fates willed it, perhaps they would grant you a second chance at life regardless of your nature.”
“OK …” I said, able to swallow that reasoning. “Then why did you save me in the lab when the Zeus gang broke in? You could’ve followed the Minotaur. Instead you came for me, again.”
Orion hesitated. “I’m … like I said, it seemed the right thing to do.”
I spoke softly. “Because I seem familiar to you? Is that why?”
He met my eyes. “Familiar? You say that I was your partner …” He flashed me a playful smile. “I would have remembered a girl as fine as you.”
The words bit more painfully than any blade or bullet could have. I glanced down to make sure I didn’t have something sharp jutting from my heart.
Orion continued. “I do not wish to sound insensitive, but you know … you looked like you needed saving. And with the Zeus gang’s attack, you would not receive the proper rejuvenation treatment. Why let you die? Again.”
I gritted my teeth. I was getting nowhere with making Orion remember his old self, his true self.
Grinning, Orion said, “Your health seems to be returning. The Fates smile on you. Once you have recovered a bit more of your strength, we must have a ‘Round Two.’ ” He chuckled. “If you know what I mean.”
I wanted to puke.
Orion had to still be in there. My Orion, not this Seven Sins Orion. I just had to keep working at it. He’d remember me. He had to …
A few minutes later, I was still wallowing when Orion stood up and knocked the crumbs from his hands. My stomach grumbled and he tossed me a strip of jerky.
I bit into and savored the jerky. There was a sweetness to it I’d never tasted before in jerky.
“I’m going to scout ahead,” he said and left.
I sat in the dark against the wall chewing on jerky while Simon snacked on raisins (from his stash) and Garfunkel ate some Skittles. It wasn’t long before they finished and teeth started nibbling on fingernails.
“It’s OK, Simon. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
“You’re not exactly Wonder Woman,” Garfunkel said. “Not in your condition. You can barely walk—how are you gonna fight a Bogey?”
“There’s no Bogeys down here. Orion said that it had moved on.”
“You’re right,” Garfunkel said, hopping down to the floor so that the flashlight in my lap cast a shadow mask onto his face. “It’s probably something worse.”
“Why would you even say that?” Simon said, his knees knocking together.
Something scraped the stone floor in the darkness to our side.
“The Bogey!” Simon shrieked.
“Hush,” I whispered. “Or I’ll … make you a Bogey …”
“What’s that even mean?” Garfunkel said. “Words. You’ll get the hang of them eventually.”
“I’m serious,” I said, balancing the flashlight in my lap while feeling at my sides for a weapon of any kind. Not even a rock.
Simon whimpered. “Maybe we imagined it?”
I held stock still, trying to hear over Simon’s wailing. I waited, but there was nothing out there. And Orion wasn’t back either. Just how far had he scouted ahead? Was he trying to scare me or something?
There was another scuffling sound, and gripping the flashlight I spun to the side, catching in my crosshairs a …
Cave rat. Fat. Gray bristly hair. Wide black eyes. It sat back on its haunches and stared at me.
“Eh heh,” Garfunkel chuckled. “And you thought it was a Bo—look out!”
Behind the rat a shadow darted and danced, and with a savage pounce, a wolflike form leapt at me, its canines snapping at my face.
“Beast Claws and Poker Night”
I brought the flashlight up as I rolled to the side. The tactical light must’ve been military grade aluminum because it packed a punch for its light weight. With a snarl, the creature landed where my butt had been only a moment before, its claws scraping the stone floor.
“What is that thing?” I shouted.
“I can’t look!” Simon answered.
The creature whipped around with ferocious speed and snapped out at me like something feral—which, living in a cave underneath the NYC subway system, I guess it was.
“Looks like a coyote,” Garfunkel said, taking cover in his shoulder pad. “With two heads.”
“Coyote?” I said. “That thing’s as big as a small bear!”
One of the wolf-like beast’s jaws snapped out at me; I scurried backward and rapped it on the snout with the business-end of the flashlight. The head howled as the beast strafed to the side to allow its other head to take a bite out of me. Anticipating the flashlight, it twisted its head sideway and clamped onto the flashlight’s head, jerking it from my grasp.
There was a crunch and then, darkness.
“Theo!” Simon wailed.
I rolled onto my side, pain in my arm be damned, and kicked off with my toes like a sprinter in a starter’s block in the pitch dark.
Firing my tendons, I pushed off, and got half a foot before a wide paw brushed my back and shoved me down with a whump. My palms and knees met the cold floor and I instinctively jerked to the side to make myself a more difficult target.
A paw landed just beside my rib cage. I twisted onto my back as teeth snapped right past my head. Slobber fell in a sickening laver upon my chin and neck and chest.
I kicked upward, striking the creature in the belly. It howled, and I spun again, lifted myself up on the balls of my feet, having no idea which direction I was about to throw myself down or if maybe I was about to connect with the wall …
A beam of light blinded me and a voice shouted, “Get down!”
I threw myself headlong toward the ground. The whoosh of a crossbow slid across my eardrums while spots pierced my vision.
The beast howled in agony, its claws scratching the stone floor as it leapt, a paw connecting with my back, claws shredding through my jacket as another bolt whistled by. My jacket tore nearly clean in two down the back as I stumbled toward the light. Orion caught me in one arm while brandishing a hunting knife in the other.
With a defeated yelp, the two-headed beast turned tail and was swallowed by the darkness.
“What was that thing?” I asked between breaths.
Orion yawned. “You are welcome.” He sheathed the hunting knife at his side and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “That was a hell-hyena, your basic Underworld prowler. Hungry. Irritable. I killed a few in my day.”
“You went into the Greek Underworld just to kill two-headed guard dogs?” This man. No wonder he was a legend.
Orion shook his head. “No. They would often escape. That is why
we had a guard of rangers stationed near the opening, to prevent the creatures from entering the nearest towns and dragging more victims’ souls back with them.”
“Oh,” I said.
“Are you able to move?”
There was a warmth to his words that reminded me of the old Orion—the true Orion. If he would’ve offered me his hand then, I probably would’ve taken it.
I did a quick mental body scan as taught in the military after surviving a combat situation. Then I gave my sore spots a tender pat down before flexing and rotating my joints.
“I can move. But kameno tost, that really hurt.”
Orion blinked. “Burnt toast …?”
I laughed weakly. “One of my father’s old sayings.”
“You are an odd one. But I am glad you can move.” It might’ve been the lighting but I swore I saw concern on Orion’s face as he knelt down and swiped his thumb in a drop of the creature’s blood. “Come on. Best we move on before the beast decides to come back for us. It is feral, and wounded.”
I groaned and raised myself to my feet with the wall’s assistance. “Aren’t you worried I might bleed out from these claw marks on my back?”
“You’ll be alright,” Orion remarked as he turned, his flashlight cutting a path through the blackness. “Hell-hyena’s claws burn with the heat of Tartarus. No worry of infection there. Wounds have probably cauterized themselves by now.”
A tiny finger poked my back wounds.
“Ow.”
“He’s not wrong,” Garfunkel said. “Who needs scabs or coagulation when you got cauterization? Amiright?”
I shook my head.
After I fully caught my breath, examined my jacket flapping against my back. It was torn down the middle, with the two flaps flapping back against the small of my back. I shivered.
“I could sew that up for you,” Orion said as we started walking again.
“Hah! Hunter dude can sew but you can’t,” Garfunkel said. “And you’re a girl!”
I considered it.
“Orion can’t be trusted!” Simon blurted out. “He may … try to take advantage of you! Virtues, Theo! Virtues!”
Axes and Angels: A Snarky Urban Fantasy Novel (Better Demons Series Book 1) Page 46
