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

by Raquel Lyon

  “You won’t get away with this,” Charlotte hissed, struggling against her bindings and then furrowing her brow at me—perhaps wondering why I wasn’t similarly restrained.

  “I don’t see why not,” my mother spat back. “You certainly won’t be missed.”

  “What have you done with my son? Where is he?”

  “Now, now. Keep that up and Euen here”—she glanced at our escort—“will pump you with a poison that will make the pain of childbirth seem insignificant.”

  “Untie me and face me yourself, you gutless bitch.”

  “How typical of you to revert to type.” She motioned for Euen to advance, then stopped him when I got in her face.

  “Let them go. Please,” I pleaded. “Whatever it is you want from me, we can work something out. It doesn’t have to involve them.”

  “They’re already involved, Connor. Meet numbers nine hundred and ninety-nine and one thousand—somewhere in this line—and then say your goodbyes. They’re about to die.”

  “There are six chairs, and that’s only two numbers.”

  “How astute of you. That is correct. Two more souls will settle my debt, and I’ll let you decide who they should be.”

  “No. No way. I told you I won’t be part of your games.”

  “Oh, but you will. Because if you don’t, they will all die.”

  “Are you completely mad?”

  “Not at all. I think it sensible that we tie up any loose ends before we leave. That way, we’ll be free of any unwanted visitors in the future, but I’ll allow the rest to live if you decide who dies. Think of it as my first gift to you.”

  I wanted to scream that she was up to the max on delusion if she thought we had any kind of future together, but I had to keep her sweet to avoid further bloodshed. I forced a smile.

  “You really need to work on your people skills if we’re going to get along, Mum. Let them go. There’s no need for anyone else to die.”

  Her gaze warmed as she said, “I like to hear you call me that. You see, we’re bonding already.” A soft smile crept over her face before it hardened again. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still need two more souls.”

  In the corner of my vision, the blur of a vamp speeding across the room sharpened into focus behind Sebastian’s chair. A hand fastened around my cousin’s neck and yanked up his head. “Boss, you promised me this one.”

  “Quiet!” my mother barked. “Put him down, and you can have the next kill.”

  The vamp grunted and flung his prey’s head to the side, his expression denoting disgust at his delayed meal. “When?”

  “As soon as we know who it’s going to be,” she said sternly.

  When she turned back to me, I quelled the urge to tear her into pieces, right then and there. Only the sight of the dagger in her hand stopped me. I might have been mistaken, but I swore I could hear it whispering my name. The sound seeped through me, warming and soothing my anger like a well-aged brandy, and for some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Until my mother’s voice cut through my trance.

  “So, son. Who is going to be first?” she asked.

  Chapter Thirty

  The dagger’s whispers were distracting as I looked past my mother’s expectant face to her demon posse, displaying their agitation through various stiff jaws, clenched fists, and forward postures. They were primed to attack, and I had no backup. How was I supposed to take them all out on my own? I might as well throw in the towel, right now.

  And then it came to me. Maybe I could shorten the odds…

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she said shortly, “but my men are not part of the deal. Make your choice.” She waved her hand down the row of chairs.

  I scanned along the line of battered and scared faces, searching for an answer when I had no idea of the question, then let out a resigned sigh. Perhaps if I thought of it as saving four lives instead of taking two, I could do this?

  Verma was strapped to the farthest seat, fear clouding the eyes of her tear-streaked, dirty face, and unfortunately, the additions hadn’t improved her looks. There’d been no love lost between us, and I’d never wanted her as my wife in the first place. The temptation to let the demons have at her and rid me of my marital shackles was overwhelming, but an annulment would do the trick just as well. As for her new husband, Tristan, sitting beside her like a simpering wreck—well, I didn’t know the dude and couldn’t give two shits about him. How he could be alive because of me was a mystery, and he was probably the most likely suspect to snuff out. But then again, if he died, would Verma change her mind and decide to remain my wife in order reap vengeance on me for the rest of my miserable existence?

  Next to them, Seb was the closest thing I had to a brother, but he was already half-dead, and it wouldn’t take much to finish him off. Then he would be gone forever—which would leave me as head of the family with millions to my name and Sophie all to myself.

  And then there was Arta: a fearsome warrior and a dependable and faithful comrade. I’d never known him fail to answer a call to action or be brought to his knees by any opponent, so what had happened today? Maybe he was getting too old and was no longer up to the task. He’d been given one job: get Marissa to safety. And yet, there she was, sitting alongside him. I considered her next.

  She’d always been a bit of a lush, which had probably damaged her human liver to bursting point by now, and with my father preferring to spend his time travelling, she’d never been my mother in a traditional sense of the word. But she’d been the closest thing I had to one, and she’d always been good to me.

  That left me with the mother of my child and the love of my life. No way was I losing either of them. Nope. Not even prepared to think about it.

  Fuck!

  “This is absurd. You’ve had your chance, and I’m through waiting.” My mother flicked a finger at the hungry vamp. “Start at that end.”

  Before I could react, my decision was stolen from me as quickly as Verma’s neck fell victim to his fangs. My anger surged as I swung round to face the woman who’d given the order, but I checked it in time to force a smile I didn’t mean.

  “You can’t keep killing people,” I said.

  “Oh, don’t be so sanctimonious,” she replied, dismissing my comment with another wave of her hand that wafted the sickly aroma of her perfume into the smell of blood, lots of blood. “You’ve killed plenty. You know as well as I do how necessary it is sometimes.”

  “I’ve never killed an innocent for my own gain.”

  “I told you, they’re not innocent, and I’m not doing this for me; I’m doing it for you and my grandson. Think about him for a moment, if not yourself. You might not see it now, but you will. Deep down, you know what has to be done. His soul must be freed, and one more death will ensure it.”

  At the mention of our son, I glanced over to Charlotte, but she gave no sign of noticing the comment. She had her battle face on, and her concentration was firmly fixed on the enemies in front of her as she shifted in her chair and gave the impression of scratching her feet through her boots, first one and then the other. I knew that move; I’d seen it once before, and I’d put money on one of the push daggers she kept up her sleeve to be currently sawing away at the ropes behind her chair. There was no question she’d give up her life to save her son, but with Verma now out of the picture, she wouldn’t have to.

  “I choose him,” I said, pointing to Tristan.

  “Too late. I told you what would happen if you didn’t make a decision. You’ve doomed them all… and you will kill the next one.”

  “No. Not a chance. If you’re going back on your word, I won’t have a single drop of their blood on my hands. You’ll have to kill me before I go near any of them.”

  A small twitch surfaced in her left cheek as she pursed her lips and realised I was serious. “All right. I’ll agree to spare the others after you dispense of one more.”

  I glanced over to Tristan’s petrified face with a plan
forming in my mind. If I made it slow, then by the time I was done with him, Charlotte should have freed herself, and together, we’d have a chance to tackle the mutant mob and finish this debacle once and for all.

  “I’ll make it quick, mate,” I lied, taking a step.

  “Not him…” A hand gripped my arm, and I spun around to see the dagger pointing at Sophie. “Her!”

  What? No! Anyone but Sophie! “B-but you said we were starting at that end.”

  “I’ve changed my mind. Kill her, and the others can live.”

  I tried to remain calm while every part of me screamed its objection. “Why her?”

  “Because her hold on you is unnatural and dangerous.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “You only think that because she’s such a good liar.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “Don’t I? It wasn’t only your name that came up in my meeting. The Devil was quite thorough with his visions of the future.” She stabbed the dagger so close to Sophie’s chin that she had to lean back in her chair to avoid the tip connecting. “I know all about her. She’s in league with him.”

  “Sophie? No. She would never…”

  “Oh, yes, she would. I saw her with him, and I saw your death. She killed you before and she will do it again, unless you stop her.” She held out the dagger, handle first, and thrust it into my hand. “This is how it has to end.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  My brain was in tumult, but my body refused to move as I stared at the dagger in my hand. Holding it felt right. My fingers curled perfectly around the handle as if it had been crafted with me in mind. The intricate inlaid swirls on the blade lit up with a blue glow as though it were alive, and the whispers increased in intensity, telling me I knew what I had to do, encouraging me. But could I do it?

  ‘This is how it has to end.’

  ‘This is how it has to end.’

  Over and over, I repeated the words that had been haunting me.

  “Kill her!” my mother shouted through my confusion. “Kill her, or I’ll set my men on everyone in this room.”

  Shouts of ‘Hell, yeah’ and ‘Let us at them, boss’ and chants of ‘Slay, slay, slay’ erupted from the sidelines and mingled with the dagger’s voice, skewing my perception and fogging my senses. I glanced over and blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear the clamour from my head.

  “Don’t look at them,” my mother cried. “Look at her.” Her gaze shot to Sophie, and she stabbed a finger. “Kill her!”

  My gaze flicked between the two women, and then briefly back to the line-up.

  Arta raised his head and gave a shallow nod. He trusted me to do what was right, but I was still unsure whether I could.

  “What are you waiting for? I’m your mother. Do as I say. There’s a good boy.”

  I wished she wouldn’t keep egging me on. The stench of Verma’s blood had my wolf roaring inside, urging me to spill more. I looked sideways at my mother’s watchful face. “And after I drive this dagger through Sophie’s heart, then what?”

  “You will be free. She’s the one with the hold on you, the one holding you back from having a normal life. It isn’t natural to be tied to someone else’s woman, waiting for your turn. You deserve better. You can’t keep living like this, playing second fiddle. You have a son now. You have to do what’s best for him, and that does not include staying here with a woman who will turn on you and destroy you. Mark my words. End it now. Or I will.”

  I looked back to the woman I loved and stared deep into her eyes. She stared back silently. Mascara had smudged her lower lids under the tears she was struggling to hold back. There had been many secrets between us since my return. Fear, hatred, confusion: I’d seen them all, but what I’d never glimpsed was any substance to my mother’s accusation.

  “Women,” I said to her. “Always a hidden agenda. You can’t even trust them when they profess to love you.”

  Her eyes widened. “Connor, don’t!”

  “This is going to hurt me more than it is you,” I said.

  She pleaded with me. “No! Please! Don’t listen to her. The Devil has messed with her mind. What she told you isn’t true. I would never hurt you. I love you, and you love me.”

  “Love. Yes. So many things could be argued in the name of love: protection, war, revenge. But in the end, it all comes down to one thing…” I raised the dagger. “Bitches gotta die.”

  I turned sharply and pierced the dagger into my mother’s heart, then caught her in my arms as her knees buckled.

  “You know what… Mother,” I said as she lay dying with blood gurgling from her mouth, “you’re right. There is too much evil in this world, and I will get rid of it one piece at a time.”

  Her face registered surprise that the son she’d convinced herself she was saving had turned out to be her destruction. I was not unsurprised by my actions myself. Family had always meant everything to me, and if anyone had told me I could be reunited with my mother, I would have killed to make it happen. There was only one woman I wanted more in my life, and whatever accusations were made against her, being without her wasn’t an option. After all, it wasn’t as if I was Mr Squeaky Clean myself. And if my mother’s charge against Sophie proved to be true, well, we’d work it out. In our world, there was always a solution.

  My mother’s last words croaked out on a jagged breath. “I-I never thought I’d give birth… to a f-fool. A parent… should do anything… for their ch-child. Now… you will n-never know yours.” A final puff of air seeped from her lips, and I let her limp body drop to the floor.

  Behind me, sounds of unrest mumbled through the rest of the pond scum polluting my territory. Our troubles weren’t over yet. I swung around as Charlotte slid her feet from the confines of her boots and jumped up. She rammed her elbow into the chair back, and when the spindles snapped, she snatched a section and spun to face the hungry vamp with a grin.

  I would have loved to have seen her stick it to him, if the owner of two emerald eyes hadn’t been rushing towards me.

  The demon’s mouth opened to reveal a tongue shaped like an ice pick as he leapt for my head. I ducked and shot the dagger high as he sailed over me. He landed on the table, leaving a green trail in his wake. My blade had sliced through his torso as if it were butter, and when I rounded the chairs, it sliced through Arta’s bindings with the same ease.

  Arta wasted no time transforming, and his wolf roared a battle cry loud enough to shake crumbs of plaster from the ceiling. Upon hearing it, one demon ran for the door. It slammed in his face and began to shake violently as a mirage of flames burst from its centre and spread out across the surrounding wall. Good and bad guys alike ceased sparring as their attention was caught by a monstrous face manifesting amongst the fire.

  Its features looked like no one I knew. It was at least six feet from chin to pate with paper-thin skin undulating over a partially visible skull. A single horn curled from the centre of its forehead and into a hole where its nose should have been. It could only be one man, and if this was the Devil’s true guise, it was no wonder he usually kept it hidden. I wouldn’t have been able to face that in the mirror every morning, either.

  From around the face, six hellhounds leapt through the wall. Demons scattered in every direction as the hounds immediately sought them out, but they didn’t get far. The room filled with yellow light as the hounds pinned their victims under huge paws, and began to feast.

  I was unconcerned. I’d seen it all before.

  Good riddance to bad rubbish, and don’t forget Mr Plastic Elastic on your way out.

  What was nibbling my nuts, though, was why the fuck the Devil had brought the hounds himself, and why his ginormous face was blazing a hole in our century-old wallpaper. Had he come to see me? Hadn’t he already said enough in our earlier powwow?

  “Did you forget something?” I shouted.

  “I knew I could count on you,” the Devil replied. “So loyal to your woman… and
completely predictable. Thank you for delivering my soul to me… and so soon.” Suspended from a stretched-out neck, the face slunk from the wall and tilted above my mother’s body.

  “That’s why you’re here?” I asked.

  “It was always my intention to collect this treasure personally,” he said before widening his jaws.

  A grey mist swirled up from my mother’s lifeless form, and as the Devil sucked in the trails, it dawned on me what had happened.

  “Ah, delicious, as I knew it would be,” he said.

  “It was my mother, wasn’t it? The one who traded their soul for mine?” I said. “Her soul was pure before you got your hands on it.”

  “Most of them are. Such a pity for you that you killed her before the deal was completed.”

  “Then why did you take her?”

  “You cannot presume that aiding nine hundred and ninety-nine deaths wouldn’t earn her a place with me? Her soul became mine after number one.”

  And mine wouldn’t be released until one thousand. Yeah, that figured. Plenty of time for her to slip up and ruin the deal or me to step in and ruin it for her.

  The black hollows of his eyes turned towards Sophie, and every muscle of her face tensed as she leaned back in her chair, unblinking. “Hello, my dear. Perhaps you don’t recognise me. But don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten our little agreement. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  His head angled, and I waited with bated breath, my gaze jumping between their two faces, wondering if Sophie would give a clue as to what her deal entailed. But when the Devil’s attention diverted to Charlotte, all I saw was contempt in Sophie’s eyes as she relaxed.

  “Miss Green, so nice to make your acquaintance,” he said.