by Amy Braun
There was no hesitation and I barely winced from the pain. I didn’t doubt that I would bleed more before I found her, so what was one more cut? I smeared my blood on the pentagram, then said the phrase.
“Spes relinquite omnes, o vos intrantes.”
Behind me, Rorikel stifled a laugh and muttered something I didn’t catch. Inside the plot where the graves were, the ground shifted and the tombstone in the center began to tremble. It slowly sank into the earth, grinding against something stony on its way down. A couple seconds later, it stopped, and the forest was silent again.
I stepped into the plot and peered down into the secret entrance. All I could see was blackness surrounded by dirt and cold stone. Even when I shone my flashlight into the open door, I could barely make out the ground. I took out one of the silver knives and dropped it through the door. It clattered on the stone floor after a couple seconds, but nothing shot out of the darkness to see what the noise had been.
Still, the trap door screamed, ‘danger danger don’t go in don’t go in.’
“Here,” Warrick said.
I looked over, seeing that he’d come over to my side and taken a bandage out of his leather jacket. He nodded at my wounded hand. I tried to take it from him, but instead he took my hand and began wrapping the cut himself. It was difficult to ignore how gentle he was being, and I wished I wasn’t so worried about my sister so I could thank him. But if I showed any softness now, I might fall apart again. That couldn’t happen, so I focused on the trap door and the blackness beyond it.
“What did the phrase mean?” I asked no one in particular as Warrick bound my hand.
“Oh you’ll love it,” Max grumped from the other side of me. “I remember if from high school. It’s classic Dante.” His big brown eyes found mine. “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’ ”
I sighed. “Lovely.”
“You must enter the door now,” Sephiel said urgently.
I looked over my shoulder. Both he and Rorikel were facing the trees, their backs tense and their hands gripping silver broadswords I swore hadn’t been with them when we left the motel. Damn angels and their randomly appearing weapons. I looked past them, but couldn’t see anything.
“What’s wrong?”
“The Possessors that escaped have called for reinforcements,” Rorikel told me without turning. “The remainder of the town, most likely.”
“Shit,” I breathed.
“You’re not going to kill them, are you?” Warrick asked. “They’re still people. The demons are just controlling them.”
There was an ear-piercing shriek inside the woods. Rorikel took a step forward. Sephiel turned and ushered us towards the trap door. He grabbed Max’s arms and lowered him down before he could protest. Then he moved onto the annoyed demon slayer. Sephiel stopped in front of me and looked at me with his bright blue eyes.
“Save her, Constance,” he whispered, sounding desperate.
Then he lifted me down into the trap door, closed it over our heads, and locked us in shadow.
Chapter 16
Warrick, Max and I stared at the sealed ceiling. Our angel guardians were about to fight an entire town of possessed humans. I couldn’t stand the thought of how much blood would be shed up there, or if either angel would survive.
Max said what we were all thinking.
“Well, this is just fucking great.”
“There’s nothing we can do now,” I pointed out. “Come on.”
I pointed the flashlight around the tunnel. It was smooth, curved stone covered in cracks that showed its age. The only direction was straight ahead, so I clipped the flashlight to my belt and started walking.
“Did you know these tunnels were used to help liberate the slaves during the Civil War?” Max said. “Then from the 1920’s to 1930’s, they were used to transport moonshine.”
“That’s fascinating, Max,” I snarked. “Did you also know that sound echoes down tunnels?”
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I’m nervous.”
I turned my head to give him a semi-understanding look, but his eyes were on the floor. His eyebrows were pulled together, worry clear in his eyes. He looked heartsick, and I knew he was thinking about my sister. The ache in my chest kept me from saying anymore.
We walked in silence for another five minutes before I pulled back to talk to Max again. “How much of these tunnels have you seen?”
“Flashes,” he answered. “But I have a general idea where to go.”
We stopped at a fork in the tunnels, and I looked at him. “Time to prove it.”
Max hesitated only for a second, then took a step forward and began to concentrate. Warrick walked up beside me, getting way too close once again.
“Getting out of here isn’t going to be easy,” he muttered.
“Are you saying that because the only entrance we know of has been closed off, or because when we get Dro back we’re going to be chased by a bunch of pissed off demons?”
“Both,” he admitted. He looked at me. “We have to be careful, Constance. Without Sephiel and Rorikel here, there won’t be anyone to heal us if we get hurt.”
I held Warrick’s piercing green gaze with my own dark brown one. “I know.” I glanced at Max, who was still concentrating. “Look, I know I’ve been a bitch to you more often and not, but I really am grateful that you’re here helping us. And for… the thing on the balcony.”
I mumbled it as much as I could so he wouldn’t think I was being mushy. The truth of the matter was that we were probably going to die down here, and I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t thankful for everything he’d done. Warrick smiled a little, making my heart sigh.
“You don’t need to thank me. I would be acting the same as you if it was Emma who’d been taken.”
There was a flash of sadness in his eyes. Once again, I wished we were in a different place. That I had the heart to comfort him. That my sister was safe, and not in danger of dying.
I fumbled for something to say, but Warrick’s anguish was gone when he looked at Max. I followed his gaze. Dro’s almost-boyfriend had begun to walk over to us.
“Well, some concentration and one killer headache later, I get how all this works.” He took a breath.
“First, we go left. Then we’ll come to a door. There was a lot of commotion, so there must will be some kind of trial behind it, and before you ask, no, I don’t know what that’s going to be. That part was fuzzy. If we survive that, we go left again and face another door and another trial. I got a blackout for that too, but after that we hang a third left and go through the last trial. If we live through all of those, we make a final left, and that should lead us to the center of the tunnels. That’s where Dro should be.”
My heart began hammering. She was so close.
“Are you sure? What if Isabel knows about your power and is putting these images in your head?” Warrick asked.
Max winced. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve stretched my abilities as far as they can go. There isn’t anything else I can do, and we can’t go back.”
I pointed my flashlight into the shadows past Max, pausing only one more second before I walked into them. Warrick was right about this all being a trap and needing to be careful since we’d lost our escape route, but I wasn’t really thinking about that. I was thinking about three turns and three doors between my little sister and me.
I turned left.
It took all of my willpower not to run. I had three trials ahead of me, and I would need all my strength for them. I had no angels and or sister to heal me when I got hurt. And I would get hurt. It was the price I had to pay for failing to protect Dro when she needed me most.
Hatred fuelled me again, so intense I almost crashed into the first door.
It didn’t look like much, just a huge slab made from the same moldy, rough stone as the tunnel. It was etched with demonic symbols. I couldn’t read them, but I did see the same pentagram that had been carved into the pillar by the gr
ave plot. I assumed the idea was the same, so I shifted the bandage Warrick placed on my hand, squeezing the wound until fresh blood flowed. I smeared my blood onto the pentagram.
There was a heavy thunk that startled me and made me step back. The door made a crunching, grinding noise as it lazily dragged itself open. I fixed the bandage and took the hatchet from my hip.
We stepped inside.
There was a weird crunching and squishing sound, and I had no clue what it was until we turned in its direction.
Directly onto the cluster of twelve demons ravenously eating a corpse.
Their heads snapped up and shrieked when the light hit them. I’d seen them at Owl Creek, but had no clue what they were. They were scrawny and humanoid in shape with oversized heads and gigantic almond shaped eyes the color of spoiled milk. Their skin was covered in rough, patchy scales, their claws and teeth yellowed and short, but still sharp enough to tear flesh from bone.
“What the fuck are these?” I asked, pulling out my hatchet.
“Corpse eating demons,” Max said nervously from behind me.
“Ghouls,” Warrick rumbled, taking a calm step forward.
It was the first time I’d really seen Warrick in action against demons, and I was momentarily stunned. He held out the sawed-off and fired a blast of rock salt at the ghouls. The blast hit two of them and sent them sprawling across the room. They were still moving fast, but Warrick was ready. He fired another shot that sent a ghoul flying away from him, then turned and flipped the shotgun, using the butt of it to hit the face of a ghoul that had been coming up on his side.
He was good. Very good. But he didn’t see the one making its way behind him.
I slammed my hatchet into the demon’s head and saved Warrick’s life.
Then one of the ghouls pounced onto my back and bit my shoulder.
Sharp fangs grated along the top of my arm. I cried out angrily and slammed my elbow into the ghoul’s face, but it gripped my arms and wouldn’t let go. It wrenched me back and forth, and it wasn’t long before I lost my footing.
I managed to turn and drop onto my back, hearing a metallic click behind me, and pushed free from the ghoul. I twisted and backed up, just in time to see silver spikes shoot out of the floor and impale the ghoul. The demon couldn’t even scream, because the spikes had driven into its skull, throat, and heart. It twitched on the spikes, then began to dissolve as the trap snapped back into the floor.
I turned to warn Max and Warrick, but was punched in the head by another ghoul instead. I was having a really rough start.
The demon jumped onto me and let out a terrible hiss, opening its jaws to bite my face off. I caught it by the throat to hold it back and reached for my hatchet, swinging it up into the side of the ghoul’s head.
Sephiel had been right about my hatchet. It felt much more powerful now. The blade drove deeper, and delivered a stronger blow while feeling light as a feather.
The ghoul stopped fighting, black demon blood oozing down the side of its face as its body began to disintegrate. I rolled to my feet and looked at the ground. They were well hidden all over the floor, but I saw the series of holes running horizontally through the room. I stood up and ran for Warrick and Max.
Warrick was holding his own against two ghouls, now using a silver knife and some fast martial arts moves, but Max was in trouble. One ghoul was corroding near his feet, and he was struggling against another one. He hadn’t been the best in combat training, and it was showing by the claw marks along his face and his shredded shirt. Even worse, I could see he was being pushed back towards the line of spikes.
“Max, don’t move!” I screamed, hefting my hatchet.
He froze, but covered his face as the ghoul raised its claws. I threw my hatchet at the ghoul, hitting it directly in the side of the head. It broke into ash as it toppled onto the ground. I grabbed Max by the shirt and swung him around, watching my footing for any signs of the pressurized spikes. I let go of him when I knew he was in a safe spot, then took my hatchet back from the ashy remnants of the ghoul. I took out a silver knife and pressed the flat of it onto his chest.
“Watch where you step,” I ordered.
I turned away from Max and ran to help Warrick. There were now three ghouls left standing, and all of them were focused on the slayer. He was doing his best to keep from being surrounded, but they were moving fast. I gripped my hatchet and took out another silver knife, spinning it into a reverse grip.
One of the ghouls slashed at Warrick’s face, claws scratching along his forehead. Warrick spun and kicked back to get the demon away, only to have another one jump on top of him and drive him onto the ground. The other two ghouls hovered, ready to leap on him and rip him to pieces.
Until I showed up and ruined their plan.
I slammed my hatchet into the back of one of the ghouls, then lashed out with my knife and cut the other ghoul across the chest. The hits didn’t kill them, so they both faced me and charged at the same time. I backed up, ducking and turning away from their swipes. Once or twice I felt claws skim across my jacket or my stomach, but I was keeping them at bay.
Then one of the ghouls crouched low and lunged for my gut. I buckled forward and kneed it in the chin, looking up to see the second ghoul aiming a slash at my face. I leaned my head back and kicked the ghoul around my waist away. I hurled my silver knife into the chest of another ghoul, turning my attention to the last one. I took control of the fight, forcing the demon back towards the line of spikes. Its claws caught me in the shoulder, but I followed the turn and kicked it in the head. The ghoul was knocked onto the line of spikes. I heard the click, then saw the spikes jut through its chest, killing it instantly.
When I turned again, the last ghoul wrapped its hands around my throat.
It squeezed tighter, making it harder and harder to breathe. I swung my hatchet at its head. It throttled me furiously, my head snapping back and forth. It finally threw me so hard we toppled back onto the ground. I lost my grip on my hatchet. My vision was starting to blur. The ghoul hissed and aimed its teeth at my body. I drove my knee into its stomach and pushed the demon over my head, sending it flying back, its claws making shallow scratches along my neck.
As I coughed air back into my lungs, I rolled and grabbed my hatchet. I looked up as the ghoul lunged for me again, pushing back at the last second and swinging my hatchet into the ghoul’s face. The metal cracked against its face, driving it back. I lashed out with my foot, catching it in the chest. It stumbled back, stopping when it heard the metal clicking noise.
Half a second later, heavy metal spikes jolted up from the floor and skewered the ghoul. I shuddered as the spike protruded through its legs to the top of its head. I waited until I heard the metal spikes snap back down into the floor, saw the demon burst into an ashy cloud before I sighed with relief.
I jumped about a foot in the air when I felt someone touch my arm, getting ready to swing my hatchet again. But it was only Warrick. His bright green eyes were glowing as he looked at me with concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked, helping me to my feet.
I looked at the injuries he’d taken. There were shallow claw marks on his chest and arms, as well as the bloody gash on his forehead.
“Fine,” I said, backing up. “You look worse than I do.”
He stifled a laugh and grinned a little. “Don’t be so sure.”
I just looked away. “Max, you okay?”
He was scratched, holding a silver knife dripping black blood, and looking rattled, but he was breathing. That was all that mattered.
“I really hate ghouls,” he pouted. “And floors that shoot spikes.”
“You’re not the only one,” I stated.
I looked at the floor again, then took out a knife resting against my ribs. I tossed it over the spikes, hoping there was a space we could walk onto.
The knife clattered on the stone floor, but I didn’t hear a click. Tentatively, I stepped over the line. When I wasn’t spi
tted like a pig, I relaxed and beckoned the guys.
“Come on, it’s safe.”
Max gaped at me. “You’re joking.”
I picked up my knife, spinning it between my fingers. “Just watch where you walk and you’ll be fine. Don’t be a wuss.”
I turned and looked at the floor, taking small steps until I saw the next line of holes. I continued my testing method of tossing a knife over the line of holes and stepping over carefully if I didn’t hear a click. Warrick and Max were right behind me, because I could hear Max complaining. After crossing another four steps, we made it to the other side of the room. I turned and looked at the guys.
“Everyone all right?”
“We’re not full of holes, if that’s what you mean,” Max muttered.
Accepting his yes, I turned forward. The exit door was made of rotting wood and didn’t have any markings on it, so I didn’t have to cut my hand open again. I was about to push forward when Warrick stood across from me, holding out his hand and pressing his ear against the door. He must not have heard anything, because he backed up and pulled it open. We turned left and walked in silence until we reached the next door.
***
It took us about twenty minutes of powerwalking to reach, but there was no mistaking the heavy stone door ahead. It looked identical to the last one, so finding the pentagram wasn’t hard. I peeled back the bandage on my hand, ready to tear my wound open again. Warrick placed his hand on my shoulder, getting my attention.
“What?” I asked.
He let go of me and took out one of his own knives, cutting open his palm before I could say anything.
“It doesn’t always have to be you,” he said.
Warrick turned and smeared his blood on the pentagram.
Almost instantly, there was a heavy sound of the door unlocking, then a steady grinding as it slid open. Max moved closer and our collective flashlights illuminated the room before us.
