A Hollow Cry (After Life Book 1)

by Bee Douglas

  Several feet away, I can see Briggs and Willow going toe to toe with the other two. Each using archaic weapons in defense. I look around frantically, searching for an exit or that damn conveyor belt.

  A yank of my hair forces me backward as pain spreads throughout my head. I catch sight of the blade still wedged in the pillar as my body is forced into a machine. Slashing my dagger wielding hand, I fight back. The man lets out a laugh as I miss him. He shoves me again, using his forearms to trap me from moving.

  “Well aren’t you a pretty thing.”

  “Let me go,” I bite out.

  The man smiles, baring his crooked and cracked teeth. Before he can say another word, I bring my knee into his kidney. I take his moment of pain and force the dagger into his shoulder.

  He bellows out, “You bitch!”

  I withdraw it, piercing him again and slipping out of his grasp. I try getting away, but he grabs hold of my arm.

  The vibrations come on stronger than ever before. Taking control of their power, I roar out. The waves hit him hard, throwing him back several feet in the air. My head spins. It takes me a few minutes to gain focus. The gross man doesn’t just land, but his body is thrown into a stock of pipes. I whip my head around, searching for Briggs and Willow. Both of the men are on the ground, but so is Briggs.

  I rush over, dropping to me knees. “What happened?” I ask. Blood is already soaking through his shirt. Pulling up the fabric, I am able to make out a stab wound. “Fuck, we need to get pressure on this.”

  Despite the cold, Willow pulls off her jacket and hands it to me. Briggs lets out a groan as I cover the area. “We need to get you out of here,” she says. Her eyes dance around frantically.

  “Leave me,” he tells her. A grimace coats his face as he clenches his jaw and tries sitting up.

  “I’m not go-”

  “Willow,” her name comes out of his mouth softly, grabbing her attention. She’s scared. Almost all the blood has drained from her face, “you and Nora need to get out of here. Find those Reapers.”

  “No.” Her voice hardens. “I’m not leaving you. Not like this.”

  Briggs reaches out and wraps a few tendrils of her dark hair around his fingers, an action Kane is famous for. “Go get him.”

  Emotion pulls at my heart. Kane’s told me before about the odd sort of love triangle between them and Royce. I’ve only ever seen her interact with Briggs one other time, and she had been obviously irritated with him. But this? Briggs feels for her. And yet, he’s been front and center for this rescue mission. Now he lies on the floor of an abandoned warehouse with a stab wound in his abdomen, telling her to save Royce. He might bleed to death, well... whatever their version of a second death would be.

  “Willow, help me move him.”

  She doesn’t acknowledge that I say anything. She keeps her eyes locked on his as a single tear rolls down her cheek. Reaching out, I touch her arm. Willow brushes it away, snapping back to reality. Gripping his other arm, we are able to move him back a few feet and lean him against the base of a machine.

  Taking his hand, I show Briggs the exact amount of pressure he needs to maintain on the wound. “Stay awake,” I order him, “and whatever you do, don’t lie down. We’ll be back for you.” I glance over at Willow. “I promise.”

  I don’t place the dagger back in its holster. I keep it in my hand, ready to use it again. The conveyor is in the far corner. Something ordinary enough that it blends in perfectly. Willow pulls open a door. What should have been a panel of electrical pieces or mechanical bits, opens up to a crawl space. We have to move on our hands and knees for what seems like miles. Luckily, Xi installed luminescent lights along the way.

  “How much further?” I whisper.

  Willow’s in the lead once more, and yet she doesn’t answer me. We keep crawling. The cold metal of the tunnel bites into my knees and the palms of my hands. In just a handful of feet though, I get my answer. The end of the crawlspace has several boxes blocking the opening. Once Willow pushes those aside, we’re able to climb out.

  My muscles haven’t been this tense since working with Yvette. Hours upon hours of training takes such a toll on your body. Apparently so does crawling in a tight space.

  “Where do you think they could be?” Willow asks, stretching out her own limbs.

  The basement of the Devil’s Playground doesn’t look like it has been touched in years. “They have to be upstairs.”

  Placing the dagger she used in its sheath, she takes an arrow out of her quiver and unstraps the bow from behind her back. She examines the tip of the arrow much like I would have a needle before giving a shot. “Let’s get this over with.”

  ...

  By the time we manage to make our way to the first floor, my blood is humming with a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline. I show Willow the back staircase that opens up near the stage. Xi usually stores backdrops, instruments, and extra lighting here.

  As we creep in silence, echoes of voices arise. Death’s here, alternately talking in the way they do. Slipping in between the curtains, we are able to see bits of what’s going on. There are several people standing at different posts throughout the room. Demons. Hell, they could be Reapers too. Aside from Griffin, I haven’t seen any of them before. Just the sight of him makes my anger spike.

  On his knees in the center of the room is Royce. Two men stand near him. Willow must’ve noticed him the same time I did. I grab her arm, stopping her from running out there. She casts me a glare over her shoulder and all I can do is shake my head. If either of us speaks, we’ll be found. She shrugs my hand off, turning her attention to the bar room. Even though she doesn’t rush out there, Willow nocks an arrow to her bow - one with a glowing crystal point.

  “Your priorities are ill suited, Reaper.” Satan’s harsh voice echoes through the room.

  Royce lets out an indifferent chuckle. It’s weak, not like his usual joyful laugh. One of the princes snaps their fingers, signaling the movement of one of the posted men. I don’t see what happens, but one moment, I hear Royce’s pained screams. And in the same moment? Willow steps out and lets the arrow fly.

  This is not part of the plan, I keep thinking over and over again as the next few seconds flash by. Willow lets loose several arrows, lodging them into the bodies of Death’s men. Some reacted similar to how Kane had when that Changeling stabbed him. Others don’t act nearly as severe. I keep hidden in the folds of the thick red curtain, watching as Willow bounds around the room with a fierceful grace, avoiding the pentagram at all costs. But as she nears Royce, Griffin takes hold of him, forcing him to his feet. Willow stops in her tracks the moment she sees the crystal blade being held against his throat. My heart quickens.

  Everything's happening so quickly. From the way she threatens to let free another arrow to the way Satan calmly says the words, “Let it be done.”

  Griffin twists his hold on the dagger, plunging it into Royce’s chest. A black light emanates from the wound, broadening and emitting dark smoke-like cloud. Willow belts out a cry as her knees give way; her body shaking as she sobs. Royce’s body collapses to the ground and she scrambles to it. But by the time she makes it to him, there is nothing but a pile a ash. Tears stream down my face. I clamp my hand over my mouth, trapping my own cries.

  Even from where I stand, I can see the way Willow’s chest heaves as she breathes. When she finally raises her face up, rage completely takes it over. She eyes Griffin, then the contained princes. Once she begins unleashing her wrath, I am barely able to keep track of her movements. Arrows are soaring through the air. The men that have been posted along the wall are now moving, trying to reach her. But they must have never learned that you can’t catch smoke, and that’s what she is. She is swift and agile, moving quicker than anything I’ve ever seen before. But no matter how skilled she is or how fast she moves, she’s outnumbered. One of the men catches hold her, raising her up off the ground by the back of her neck. She’s thrown like a rag doll; her head crac
ks against the wooden floor board. She doesn’t rebound. Her body lays slack.

  “Well,” Leviathan laughs, “that was fun.”

  The princes’ men regroup, taking their injuries in pride and taking up their posts once more. They behave as if the whole ordeal was just a bump in the road. Not that one of their own was just disintegrated into ash. Or that the body of an Accursed lies just a few feet away from them.

  “No, brother,” Belial corrects him, “that was a nuisance.”

  He shrugs. “So be it. At least we can now get to the real performance.” The three of them exchange a few other things, but they speak too quiet for me to hear them. Finally Leviathan calls out in a singsong tone, “Come out, come out, wherever you are. We know you’re here, little Banshee.”

  I step back, making sure I can’t be seen. Blood is coursing through my veins, moving faster and faster.

  “As I’ve said before, these humans are incompetent.” Satan lets out an annoyed sigh. “Bring out the other one.”

  Everything grows silent. Moments later, two men drag out a hooded body. It slumps to the floor the moment they let it go.

  “Unbind him,” Belial orders.

  Metal cuffs are taken from around his wrists, letting his arms loose. The one man then removes the dagger that’s lodged into his body. Then the hood is removed. Dark tendrils of Kane’s hair fall free over his forehead. He’s extremely pale. I would swear he’s dead if he didn’t grimace when the second man kicks him.

  I don’t move. I can’t. My legs are frozen in their place. Setting sight on Kane has completely changed my mindset. I want to run out to him and take him in my arms. I want to send every last person in his room to the pits of Hell. But I can’t. I don’t have the strength or skill that Willow does. I can’t retaliate. There’s still time. I can go back to the crawl space, get Briggs and regroup. The Changelings will help now, especially if Willow is in trouble.

  “Don’t you want to come out and play?” A high-pitch laughter pierces my ears. Shifting my vantage point, the girl from the Playground, Vivian, comes into sight. She kneels down and brushes the hair away from his face.

  “Do not touch him,” I growl. Taking a deep breath and gripping the dagger tighter in my hand, I step out.

  I have stood in this very spot many, many times. Except tonight, I’m not faced with a crowd of people anticipating a show. Even though I stand a few feet higher, Death commands the room in a newly drawn pentagram. They smile up at me. All three of them.

  35

  Nora

  Kane opens his eyes, blinking over and over again. When he’s able to keep them open, he locks them onto me. My heart pulls hard.

  “Nora.” My name is barely a whisper on his lips.

  My feet betray me. They take a few steps in his direction before I force them to stop moving. Death stares at me, scrutinizing every move I make.

  “Come join us,” Belial says, gesturing his arm to the main floor.

  I swallow the fear rising in my throat. “I came for Kane. I’m taking him and we’re leaving.”

  Leviathan laughs hard, gripping his stomach as he does. Embarrassment sends a shocking wave through my body. “Do you honestly think you hold any power here?”

  “You’re all here because of me, aren’t you?”

  The laughter is cut short. Satan’s jaw sets. They stare at me with a renewed sense of anger. Months ago, I would’ve admitted to being intimidated and afraid of what Death can do. But with my newly found knowledge, I’m able to see just how captive and weak they are.

  “Why don’t you show us what it is we have spent all this time on?” Belial requests, daring me to refuse.

  “Let him go and I will.”

  The girl laughs. It’s such a sharp sound that it makes my stomach churn. “They took his restraints off, you stupid human.”

  I hate her. From the moment I first set eyes on her, I knew she was nothing but trouble. At first, I kept giving in to the fact that it was my jealousy getting in the way. But now that she stands in the middle of the room with free rein from Death, I know that it’s more than that. I want to launch her far away from Kane. But I can’t. There are no signs of vibrations. While any spike of emotion usually sends a tingling sensation up my spine, there’s nothing now. No warning signs. Not even the slightest feeling of an outlying tremor.

  The girl starts laughing once more, but Satan shoots her a look, which cuts her off. He turns his attention back to me. “We know you have not been completely useless. Show us.”

  At this point, my mouth has dried up. A harsh and unloving audience waits. No matter that I’ve overcome stage right before, I’ve never experienced this sort of barren emotion. I open my mouth; hoping lyrics of any kind will pour out. Nothing comes.

  “Seems that you truly have not made any progress.” Belial shakes his head. Satan snaps his fingers. The one man guarding Kane takes the blade he pulled out and runs it along the side of his face. Kane lets out a wretched scream.

  “Stop it!” I wail, feeling frantic.

  The man looks to the princes. When Satan orders him once more with a slight nods of his head, he pulls the blade away.

  My breathing is heavy. I scan my thoughts for any type of song. Only one stands out. I used to sing it to Hannah when she was just a baby. Pushing the rising lump down, I sing with a shaky voice.

  “The other night, my dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.”

  At this point, I should be able to make out the outlining of a human’s soul. But in a room filled with soulless demons, I have nothing to focus on. Taking in a deep breath, I continue on.

  “When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken. So I hung my head and cried.”

  “This is what we wasted our time on? A lullaby?” Satan spits out the words. “Reaper,” he points to the guard standing closest to me, “put an end to her embarrassment.”

  He stalks toward me, no remorse or empathy blemishes his face. As he nears, Kane begins moving. His legs gain enough composure to make him seem more of a man than a lump on the floor. Before the newly appointed executioner has time to react, Kane takes his head between his hands, giving it a sharp twist. The man’s body collapses to the ground.

  Kane’s weak. I can tell that it’s taking everything he has just to stand on his own two feet. His chest heaves. Blood and dirt mixes together to create a sort of war paint on his skin and clothes. He may be hanging on by a thread, but Kane’s spirit is, and will always be, strong.

  “Touch her,” he warns with a strained voice, “and I will end every single one of you.”

  The whore of a girl goes to speak, but Kane grabs her too. Seeing that she’s in danger, Griffin moves with faltering steps. Emotion floods his face.

  Kane flashes him a wicked smile. “Tell me. How does it feel to know that Vivian would run to you after being with me? That, without a doubt, she didn’t give her entire self until I was good and done with her?”

  I know his question is meant to get under Griffin’s skin, but I can’t help but feel the weight of the words. The initial bricks of our own walls didn’t fall down until after their affair ended. Images of them kissing in a booth and slipping into a back room fill my mind. It hits my gut, souring the taste in my mouth.

  “Drop her.” Griffin bares her teeth.

  The attention of everyone in the room shifts over to the two of them. I use this time to slowly get closer to Willow. No sudden movements.

  An impatient sigh cuts through their verbal threats. Belial gives a wave of his hand. “Just let the demon go. She is inconsequential to the situation.”

  “You’re right.” Kane’s words make my body freeze.

  No matter how many times he tells me, I will never believe he is an overall bad person. He isn’t. Light tries breaking through his blackened shell. He just chooses not to embrace it, forcing it back into the shadows. But as I stand to the side, his constant self-demeaning reminders creep back into my mind.

  Kane places his hand over her m
outh and nose, cutting off her oxygen supply. Even as her body begins thrashing back and forth, it doesn’t affect him any. He stands there and stares Griffin down. He wears an emotionless mask as he drains the girl’s life with his bare hands. The Reaper becomes frantic. He charges toward Kane, but doesn’t make it quick enough. Kane throws the now lifeless body to the ground. Her hand lands in Royce’s ashes.

  Griffin hesitates, which only benefits Kane. He comes at him with what little forces he has left. The two of them begin throwing punches. No one steps in to separate them. They all just watch. Griffin gets Kane to the ground, using his leverage to make blow after blow. I can practically see his lifeline draining.

  “Stop it!” I screech, causing the floorboards to shake slightly with the vibrations that sneak up on me.

  Griffin pulls back his punch mid-swing. He stares at me with confusion. It’s almost as if a lightbulb goes off in his head. He stands, grabbing a barely conscious Kane by his shirt. Smirking in my direction, he throws him over the line of the pentagram.

  “No matter what happens,” Kane whispers in my ear. His breath dancing on my skin sends a shiver down my spine, “do not ever cross their line.”

  “It’s just a little star.”

  He uses his teeth to tug on my earlobe. “It’s a cage, but it’s not for their safety. They may not be able to walk across that line, but if they could, Hell would walk the earth. No. It’s to keep people out. Once it’s crossed, there’s no going back.”

  Satan moves on Kane like a starved animal. He holds his hands up as if accepting a glass of water. But instead of something appearing in his grasp, Kane’s body begins moving. Not by his own will. It’s a twisted magic. Using some sort of power, Satan forces his body to rise in the air. He stares at Kane like he’s some distorted version of a sculpture; smiling as if he just won a prize.