To Hell and Back (Fosswell Chronicles) (Devilblood Book 1)

by Raquel Lyon

  “No, it cannot. And, as you are so well informed, you must surely know that in an alpha’s absence, matters are dealt with by the beta, who just so happens to be—”

  “Right here,” I cut in.

  The representative cleared his throat. “Quite so. Besides, this is not pack business.”

  “Then what is it about?” Sophie asked.

  “As I said before, Mrs Lovell, I am not at liberty to disclose.”

  “We have a right to know,” she said.

  Sophie continued to argue her point as if I wasn’t even in the room, and she’d be in trouble if she carried on. I had to show the bigwigs that our pack wasn’t secretly under the thumb of a female fox shifter. If that got out, we’d be the laughing stock of the Supe community, and any good standing our family name had would be history. Seb would not thank either of us for that. I grabbed her shoulders and fixed her with my best shut-up gaze, hoping she’d take the hint.

  “You’re not the boss of me, Soph. I’m twenty-six years old, and I’m a big boy. I don’t need mothering.”

  “I know that, but Seb—”

  “Isn’t here. And like the man said, in his absence, I’m in charge.”

  The man rose. “I can see that you have your hands full here,” he said sarcastically. “We’ll be at a hotel nearby for the rest of the weekend. Here’s the address.” He held out a card. “I would urge you to attend without delay.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Con,” Sophie said, placing a hand on my arm. “I really think you should speak to Seb about this first.”

  “Well,” the man said, dismissing Sophie’s concerns with a wave of his hand as he motioned for his colleagues to rise, “feel free to wait for your cousin’s return, but understand… It’s a wait that could prove fatal.”

  “What do you mean… fatal?”

  “Unfortunately, I cannot say precisely what might happen if you refuse to comply, but matters will be escalated. Goodbye, Mr Lovell.” Then almost as an afterthought, he placed two fingers to his nose and flicked them away as he nodded at Sophie. The action was a sign of respect in our world, but one I had a hunch he didn’t feel. “Mrs Lovell.”

  Sophie answered his farewell with narrowed eyes and her own silent nod before turning to study the painting over the fireplace. Anger radiated from her, and I got the impression it didn’t just stem from our unexpected visitors. It was clear she was struggling to hold it together, and I imagined she’d be on the phone to Sebastian the second the men were out of the door, but that wasn’t my problem. I had a bigger one.

  What the hell did the Assembly want with me?

  I walked the representatives to the door and saw them out before returning to Sophie.

  The desire to drink in the sight I’d been starved of as late made me pause in the living room doorway. I leaned against the casing, and my heart rate jumped up a notch as my hungry gaze travelled up her slender legs, past her small waist to the curve of her breast. When I imagined tripping up behind her and nestling my crotch into that sexy little place right at the top of her butt crack as I took her into my arms, I had to press the throw down.

  Stop thinking about her like that, you moron.

  After what I’d done, I didn’t deserve her, and it pained me to see her upset. She was such a dainty thing. All I wanted to do was protect her. Instead, I’d turned her from a sweet and amiable lover into a protective tigress who treated me like her cub.

  She sensed my presence and ceased tapping her fingers on the mantelpiece to spin from the painting.

  “You can’t go,” she said.

  I pushed from the doorway and walked towards her. “Can’t I?”

  “Of course not. You have to wait to get Seb’s opinion. You must see that.”

  “Actually… no.”

  “He can pull rank and do something about this.”

  “It’s the Assembly, babe. If they were going to charge me, I’d be in chains already. As you can see,” I stopped short and held my hands wide, “I am not. But they’ve given me an order, and if Seb were here, his hands would be tied, too. Besides, we don’t even know what they want yet, and whatever it is, I can handle it. It might be nothing.”

  Concern lit her face. “And it might get you killed.”

  “I can look after myself.”

  “Can you? Running around with your dog, murdering the wildlife, is not the same thing.”

  “I’m not arguing, Soph. I’m going.”

  Chapter Three

  It felt good to get behind the wheel of my Mazda again. The engine had hummed to life as if I’d driven it yesterday. Superspeed and a werewolves’ answer to teleporting were great, but nothing came close to the feel of complete control over a different kind of power.

  After spending another night outdoors, I’d waited until Sophie’s usual retreat-to-her-studio time before slipping back to my room for a shower and a clean set of clothes. The last thing I’d needed was Sophie attempting to alter my decision. It would only have led to another argument, and there had been far too many heated words between us recently. Whatever her opinion on the matter, I had to know what the Assembly wanted with me and whether it would offer a finality to my situation.

  Thirty minutes later and suitably refreshed, I’d headed for the city now spread before me.

  Give me open fields and the smell of cow manure over high-rise buildings and exhaust fumes anytime. Carleigh had too many noises that assaulted my sensitive hearing and an abundance of dark shadows that hid who knew what.

  I passed my destination and pulled up a couple of streets away. Inner city parking was a bitch, and Saturdays were a ball-twisting pain in the backside. I needed the hassle of locating a closer spot about as much as I needed Sophie’s nagging. Like never.

  Locking the car, I glanced down the street and spotted the anomaly of a bar open mid-morning. The pull of a swift one to settle the nerves compelled my feet towards it. I went inside and placed my order at the bar.

  “Well, well. I see the rumours were true.”

  I swivelled slowly on my stool at the recognisable Eastern European accent and wasn’t surprised to see the distinct half-black, half-white, poker straight locks of my old friend, Mikai.

  “Hell was not good enough for you?” he asked with a small chuckle and a knowing look in his dark-rimmed eyes.

  “Didn’t care for the company, dude,” I said, my mood instantly lightening. “Good to see you. This your place?” Looking around, it made sense that it would be. Decked out in blocks of black and red with chains for decorations, no windows, and a plethora of high-backed booths for privacy, it was the perfect setting for a vampire hangout.

  “Indeed. I managed to secure a good deal after the Circ war flattened this sector of town. A man needs something to keep him out of mischief.” The twinkle in his eye told me the bar offered him exactly the kind of mischief I couldn’t imagine him ever wanting to give up.

  “Yeah? And how’s that going?”

  “Not bad. Could be better.” He waved a hand to the barman—who I would have sniffed out as a vamp on the spot, had I not been preoccupied with thoughts of my upcoming meeting—and pointed for him to refill my glass.

  “Yeah? Not enough action?”

  “It is not the action that is the problem, it is the deserters. You would not believe how many members of my staff have just up and left without serving their notice recently.”

  “Sounds like typical vamp behaviour to me. Self-gratification first and all that.”

  Mikai placed his hand on his cold, dead heart. “If you were not such a good friend, I would be offended.”

  “I’d expect no less. Do you suspect foul play?”

  “I cannot say for sure, but I admit I find it curious how they all had the same excuse for their desertion.”

  “Which was?”

  “Missing home.”

  “Home?”

  “Noctilla.”

  I’d read about Noctilla, back when my Uncle Hemming had i
nsisted I learn about dimensional geography. Situated in the twelfth dimension, almost fifty percent of the realm had been inhabited by bloodsuckers since the first ones had claimed it as their home in the fifteenth century. But after the Assembly’s outlaw of interdimensional travel in the Third, centuries ago, crossing between our two dimensions was unheard of.

  “Curious indeed. No plans to defect there yourself, I hope?”

  “And leave all this?”—his gaze scanned across the ceiling as he talked—“Not a chance.”

  “Good to hear,” I said, downing another shot and then standing up. “Look, sorry, mate. I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta split.”

  “So soon? I have a barmaid due to start her shift shortly who will be very disappointed to have missed you.”

  “Another time, maybe. Got to see a man about a dog. Know what I mean?”

  He nodded. “I understand.”

  I slapped him on the shoulder, then raised a hand in farewell as he shouted “Good luck” on my way out.

  Outside, I was pleased to see the street deserted and decided to save on the boot rubber by tripping to the hotel before I lost my nerve. I blinked and shook my head when I arrived at the address. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to down that last Jack D. My tripping radar had clearly fucked up. This couldn’t be the place.

  Stepping back to check the sign beside the first-floor window again confirmed that I hadn’t made a mistake. It was definitely the right street; it said so right there on the plaque. I squinted at the card again, returned to my previous spot, and stopped. 226. I ran my finger over the number, then looked left, then right. Was it a misprint? There was nothing but a rubbish-filled alley between 224 and 228.

  I knew enough about the Supe world to understand that it would be no normal hotel, but the buildings on either side were far wider than the gap separating them. Then again, if the Assembly was involved, it was highly likely that looks could be deceiving.

  I scanned the walls for signs of a camouflaged entrance, but if they contained one, it was very well hidden. The only other thing large enough to conceal a door was a tall wooden crate abutting one of the walls. I walked up to it and felt around its rough edges to see if there was a catch.

  It was then I noticed a mark. The Assembly’s mark.

  I glanced at the card again. The Assembly’s golden embossed emblem differed slightly to the one branded on the crate’s side, and the markings adorning the extra square were not unlike those of a credit card chip. Was it possible the card could be a key? I placed it against the mark and stood back as the crate hissed open, and then waved a hand in front of my face as I peered through the steam. There was nothing but darkness beyond.

  I paused to consider whether it might be a trap. Anything could be lurking in there, ready to pounce: guards armed with silver chains to constrain me, a swift slice of a sword to permanently separate me from my head, or even a quick route back to Hell, Assembly style.

  Fuck it.

  I was here now, and it wasn’t as if I was unused to stepping into the unknown. I stuck a foot through, and then drew it back sharply, pleased to see it was still attached. It was a start.

  Here goes nothing.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I entered and immediately heard a familiar dull click. It was my only warning before my body was pinned by a crushing whirlwind and the crate rotated around me at breakneck speed. Caught off guard like that, a lesser man might have upchucked his breakfast, but I knew the sensation well. I was on the top of a terraplunger—one the sneaky Assembly bastards had hidden substantially. The huge wooden column of the cross-dimensional device was obviously buried deep into the ground, and I’d gone and put my size tens on the ignition button at the top—the button that was now transporting me to who knew where.

  When the spinning finally stopped, I found myself facing a heavily varnished, panelled door. I opened it and walked through into the foyer of a hotel way off the star rating scale. No wonder Seb kept the details of his visits to the Assembly vague. I’d always pictured him sitting in some drab, boxy office, not partaking in the delights of such lavish taste.

  Light shone from every surface in hues of gold. Visitors sat in plush, upholstered chairs around glass-topped tables, and at the far end, a bulla demon manned the reception desk. Heads turned and eyes narrowed as my less than pristine boots clomped across the highly polished marbled floor, and I half expected someone to run up behind me and buff away my footprints. I stopped to gape up at the high ceiling, dripping huge chandeliers, and then heard a small cough at my feet, where a man no more than four feet tall with yellow skin and a long, pointed nose, dressed like a concierge, held out his hand.

  “Morning, mate,” I said with a cheeriness I didn’t feel. “How’s it going?”

  “Your jacket, sir.”

  “My jacket? Nah, I’m fine, thanks. Look, mate. I’m not sure I’m in the right place. What realm is this?”

  A frown accompanied by a simple “follow me” was the only answer I got. So I tagged along behind him, with his short legs moving twice as fast as my long ones, until we reached a door at the far end of the foyer. He knocked before opening it and then stood back as he indicated for me to go through.

  Inside the room, two moons illuminated the night sky, visible through a glass ceiling. The end wall was also made of glass. Nerves pricked through my alcohol shroud, and I hoped the glass was thicker than it looked. On my left, the Assembly rep I’d spoken to at the Towers kept his head bowed over his desk as he tapped away on his computer, and at the far end of the room, a larger desk stood empty. Presumably, it belonged to the silver-haired man with an authoritative air standing with his back to me as he stared through the glass wall.

  His reflection eyed me with indifference. “Good morning, Mr Lovell. Why don’t you come and enjoy the view?”

  I had no inclination to enjoy the view. The beast in me stirred at the merest glimpse of the two moons telling me all I needed to know about our location. It took everything I had to keep my cool on the outside, when inside I was bricking it.

  For some reason, the Assembly had called me to Angornox—a realm every werewolf child was taught to fear. Said to be the birthplace of all evil, it was now haunted by the souls of werewolves who were stuck in their almost but not fully dead bodies. It was also the Assembly’s prison, where criminals were taken to the brink of death and then hurled into the void to fight amongst themselves. A sentence that gave new meaning to being thrown to the wolves.

  “I can see enough from here, thanks.”

  Maybe I should have listened to Sophie and waited for Sebastian to arrive home. Maybe I should have insisted upon knowing more details before agreeing to come here. Maybe I shouldn’t have hit the booze and come with a clear head. Maybe I should have done a lot of things, but I was here now, and I had a feeling there was no going back until I was dismissed… If I ever was.

  “Why did you summon me here?” I asked him, wondering if his intention was for me to face a fate worse than death. Perhaps the Assembly had already done as much to my father. They had his body, after all. Sebastian had handed it over to be healed, in the hope that an eventual reunion with his family could be made. I knew that. But what if the Assembly had no intention of finding a cure for my father’s condition? What if they had cast his body out into that darkness to join his soul in everlasting torture? What if that was their intention for me?

  He turned slowly. “Convenience, Mr Lovell. We conduct all our sensitive business here. It saves time when dealing with the unpleasantries. Please”—he gestured—“sit. My name is Yanis Du Mont. You may have heard of me.”

  Certain I would have remembered someone with such a poncey name if I had, I shook my head and sat down tentatively. I waited for the big man to join me before asking, “Does this have anything to do with my father?”

  “Your father? Why would you think that?”

  “Well…” My gaze drifted to the window.

  “Your father is not out there, boy
. Is that what you thought?”

  “I…”

  “To the best of my knowledge, Seth Lovell has not disobeyed any laws. His son, on the other hand, has.” His gaze bore into me. “Now he deserves such a punishment.”

  So they did know about me. Of course they did. I glanced at the window again and shifted in my seat. Not many things made my tail twitch, but the prospect of a stretch in Angornox had my claws threatening to burst from my fingertips and carve the dude a new face.

  “So that’s why you called me here? To effectively kill me again?”

  A smug smile crept across the big man’s face before he said something far worse. The words that have haunted me for three years now.

  “Not at all, Mr Lovell. We’d like to offer you a deal.”

  Chapter Four

  My heart sank in my chest. I’d just got away from this sort of thing, just freed myself from being someone’s pawn, and now another power-hungry head honcho wanted to use me again. No way.

  “A deal? You want to make a deal?” I shot out of my chair, anger stirring the beast inside me. “It was a deal that got me into this freaking mess in the first place. Why the hell would I want to make another one?”

  I swung around, determined to leave, but before I could yell exactly where I thought he could stick his deal, a voice boomed out from behind me.

  “Sit down, Mr Lovell.”

  “Nah, I’ve had enough of this,” I said, ignoring his request in order to continue my escape. “I’m out of here.”

  I didn’t get far.

  In front of me, the door blurred and sucked into the paintwork. It vanished completely as I lost control of my body and my feet whipped from the floor, throwing me unceremoniously forwards and leaving my fingertips to trail over the wooden flooring as I was dragged back to my seat and deposited rather inelegantly into it.

  I scowled at the man now holding me prisoner. Being the dominant Supes, werewolves made up ninety percent of the Assembly’s ranks, but never in my life had I seen or heard of a single one who possessed this dude’s magical abilities. Whoever this Yanis Du Mont was, he wasn’t a werewolf. So, what was he, and what did he want with me?