by Sunny
The Suburban jolted suddenly, as if something large had hit it.
"What the—" My question was drowned under the screaming groan of metal. Above us, talons punctured the ceiling, the sharp claws popping through the fabric lining right above our heads. With a heart-stopping lurch, the car was yanked from the small road we were on, and then we were airborne for the distance of a dozen yards. No other cars or houses in sight because this was private property, my property. We were only five minutes away from home.
The talons disappeared, and we were dropped with a lurching thud into a field with waist-high weeds. Before the car had stopped rocking, I had the door open and was out. A giant eagle came swooping down at me with razor-sharp beak and lethal talons. I hit the ground, then scrambled back up when it hurtled past me. For one terrible second I thought it was Aquila, my guard, the former bandit I had trusted and taken into my service. His other form was a bald eagle. And then I saw that the plumage was less rich, the black and white coloring different, the white of the head extending farther down into the chest and the upper part of the wings. Not an eagle—a vulture. And its presence felt different… jarring, abrasive.
"Behind you!" Thaddeus screamed and I ducked and rolled, barely in time. A hard rush of wind blew over me and the hunter's wings brushed against me, missing its main target, but still striking me a glancing blow. Fiery pain slashed my shoulder and the bittersweet smell of blood filled the air as I tumbled to the ground.
A second large bird, a red-tailed hawk, shot past with an angry shriek. Nope, not my people. The hawk was smaller than the gyrfalcon Gryphon became, a muddy swirl of brown instead of snowy white, with a chestnut-colored tail. But still it was a deadly predator of the sky, a dark shadow of death winging overhead.
"Stay in the car!" I yelled to Thaddeus. He hesitated, then got back inside and shut the door.
"You, too, Halcyon."
"I think not," the Demon Prince said quietly and came around the car to crouch down beside me. Hard to order him around when he actually outranked me. Too bad. He didn't look too good. But if he insisted on playing… I offered him my silver dagger, my eyes scanning the blue sky.
"I do not need that," Halcyon said, and flashed his long nails when I glanced over at him.
"Oh, yeah. Forgot," I muttered. "Here they come."
The vulture hurtled down, dropping hard from the sky. The hawk was right behind it, a brown rushing blur. I sprang away from the car and stood, a clear inviting target, hands bare, daggers sheathed. With the barest adjustment, they veered toward me, diving like bombers.
"Mona Lisa, no!" Halcyon cried.
Just before the vulture struck, I called the daggers to my hand, one silver, one plain steel. I let the silver blade fly. A swift evading maneuver by the giant bird and I missed. I missed! Fuck!
The vulture came right back on target with a sharp angling of its wings, plunging straight toward me. With no time to call back the silver blade, I met talons with steel. I leaped up to meet it, striking it in the air. I had a fraction of a moment to savor my dagger sinking into the vulture's body, and then it struck me with the full momentum of its dive behind it. It felt like a freaking hammer hit me. Stunning force, a sharp tearing impact in my right arm, and not too much pain—not a good thing. It was better when it hurt like hell. When you didn't feel anything, that meant the wound was deep and the injury bad.
I think I dropped the dagger, couldn't tell. Couldn't feel anything in my right arm. And then I didn't know anything other than I was careening through the air, thrown by the impact of that motherfucking big bird. It shrieked with triumphant glee and swooped past me, red droplets dripping from its breast. I hit the ground with smacking force, eating dirt. The fall kicked the breath from my lungs and made me see stars.
"No!" Halcyon cried.
I turned my head in time to see Halcyon dive in front of me, using his lean body as a shield, and take the hit meant for me. The hawk struck him with an impact that I both felt and saw. The blow shook and reverberated through Halcyon's slight body. His blood splattered wide in a crimson spray as talons dug deep into his back. With a jerk that ripped a moan from his lips, the hawk heaved the Demon Prince upward into the air, carrying him away.
"Halcyon!" His name was a weak, airless gasp from my lips. Then my mouth opened wide in a soundless scream as sharp claws struck me, tunneling into my back, scraping against bone. The vulture jerked me into the air like a flopping doll, and hot, searing pain ripped through my body and sank me into darkness.
Searing pain jerked me back into consciousness. My back, of course. And my right shoulder throbbed like a screaming bitch. Chains were tight and secure around my wrists and ankles, giving me a hint that I was in deep shit, if the pain hadn't already clued me in.
I opened my eyes, then wished I hadn't. Silver chains I could have broken, but it was demon chains that bound me. And beside me, they bound Halcyon as well. He looked terrible. His tanned skin was almost gray, and his face and entire body was puffy, swollen. He looked like an overripe peach that would squish open with one careless squeeze. Rivulets of blood twined down his legs and side like crimson beads. I must have made a sound or some noise. Halcyon opened his bloated eyelids and tried to smile at me, but the movement cracked his dry lips and they split open, oozing blood and thick gooey liquid.
"Oh, my God, Halcyon." My voice came out dry and cracked. I cleared my throat, swallowed to moisten it. "What did they do to you?"
"Sun," he croaked.
They'd fried him, the bastards. Someone seemed to know quite a bit about the demon dead.
I felt the guilty sun innocently setting in the west. I'd been out for a while—several long hours had gone by. Relief welled up within me that at least Thaddeus wasn't here with us. I prayed that my brother had returned to the house safely. Did the others even know we had been taken? Or were they all still asleep and insensate in their daytime rest?
"Who took us?" I asked.
"Mona Louisa."
Somehow his answer didn't surprise me. She'd been my nemesis forever, it seemed, though it hadn't really been that long. Just felt that way. She'd tried to kill me twice already. Let's hope the third time wasn't the charm.
But it explained how Mona Louisa had gotten ahold of demon chains. From Kadeen, the same demon dead warlord she'd sicced on me. He must have served as her conduit to Hell and all its interesting supplies. Made me glad that we'd killed him. And made me wonder if she knew that her source had been gobbled down by Hell hounds and was no more.
"Where are we?"
"Mississippi," Halcyon rasped. "About a hundred miles east of New Orleans."
"What's Mona Louisa doing here?"
"She lives here. Part of her original territory. Louisiana went to you. She kept the western part of Mississippi."
It boggled my mind. They'd sliced up her original territory and given the bigger piece to me. Generous and yet incredibly stupid. Just begging for trouble, in fact. "You left Mona Louisa as my neighbor?"
Halcyon almost smiled, but managed to keep his lips straight so they wouldn't split open again. "Advised against it. Majority overruled me. Felt it was adequate punishment."
"And they thought she'd be okay with it? Live peacefully right next to me?"
"Yes. Trusted you to hold territory safe against her. And if not—"
"Yeah, I get it. Survival of the fittest, and all that stupid crap."
"Monère way."
"Frankly, I don't think much of that way."
He sighed. "Neither do I. They would never conceive of Mona Louisa making such an attempt. Even I did not think she would dare do something like this." This being not only trying for me but successfully snatching him as well, not just a High Council member but the High Prince of Hell.
The good news was that we were alone. The bad news was that I wasn't alone. Halcyon was here with me.
"Can you break free?" I know. Dumb question. He'd have broken free, already, if he could. And yet… I couldn't help but
remember how easily, effortlessly Halcyon had snapped the chains once before. Snapped them as if they had been nothing but thread.
"No." His voice was a low, dry rasp. He looked at me, all his great strength gone. And my ignorance, my lack of knowledge was mostly to blame.
"You?" he asked.
I shook my head, hot tears of regret and shame burning the back of my eyes because I lied. I could break free… if I shifted into my other form. But I couldn't risk doing so. I lost myself to my beast completely when I changed. If I were alone, I'd take the chance and trust to my beast's instinct to flee. But here, with Halcyon… I might very well fall prey to my own predatory instinct and eat him if I changed. I certainly would not have the presence of mind to break him free and take us both away from here.
Regret filled me. If I had not run from the darkness of my beast all my life, if I had been willing to free it more often, gain more control of it… but now it was too late.
"You shouldn't have helped me," I said helplessly.
"What else could I have done?" he asked, his once beautiful voice so terribly abraded now.
"You should have just let them take me."
"I could not."
"Oh, Halcyon. If I die, my people will continue without me. But if you no longer ruled, what would happen in Hell?"
He looked at me for a long moment, his thoughts turned inward, before finally saying, "It would not be good."
"Your father?"
"Would probably avenge my death. Kill many Monère. May even die himself doing so. It has been long since he has left Hell."
"You make it sound as if you have to build up a tolerance to Earth."
"It is very much like that."
"Oh." A long period of silence passed. "But say your father keeps his cool, doesn't go on a killing spree. He could take up his rule once again, and everything would be the same, right?"
Halcyon dropped his gaze to the ground. "He has existed for so long. You cannot imagine what that is like. For the last hundred years, he has withdrawn much, lost interest in things, sleeps mostly. The only reason he still continues and does not go to his final rest is because of me. So that I will not be alone. If I were gone, there would be no reason for him to further exist."
"What about Lucinda, your sister?"
"Her relationship with Father is… complicated. And she has neither the strength nor desire to rule."
We both contemplated in silence the thought of an unstable Hell, of creatures even more powerful than the Monère battling for supremacy. If someone like Kadeen took over…
Kadeen had been a demon dead, a would-be warlord who had challenged Halcyon. But all he'd ended up being was would-be dead. Dead dead, this time. Back into the final darkness. But before he'd departed, he'd been a nasty, formidable creature who'd ripped apart Amber with stunning ease and drained Chami almost dry of his blood—two of my strongest, deadliest men. He'd taken a deep suck out of me, too. The demon dead seemed to gain power from drinking blood from living creatures. The thought of someone like that in power… I shuddered. Monère and humans alike would not be safe then.
"What can we do?" I whispered.
"Don't die," he said. "Survive until help arrives."
"Do you think it will?" So many things to do, to get right. They had to know we were in trouble, guess where we were, and then ride to the rescue.
His answer was not comforting. "We have no other hope."
Chapter Thirteen
The door creaked open as the sun dropped over the horizon and I knew that the time for fun and games was about to begin. For them. Not for us. All we'd do, unfortunately, was bleed and try very, very hard not to die. I just didn't know if we'd succeed.
Mona Louisa, the bitch, was looking pretty good. I'd labeled her the Ice Queen not only because of her stunning, icy beauty, but because ice ran in her veins and encased her heart. She'd given up one of her own men to the High Council without a qualm. He'd lied for her and then died for her. Miles had been his name, a nasty fellow who'd tried to rape me. Yeah, he'd deserved to go. But no more than she. She'd given the orders, after all. He'd just obeyed. But Queens were the tent poles around which the Monère gathered. They were too precious to kill. Of course, another Queen could kill a Queen in self-defense. But that law wasn't exactly to my benefit just this moment, chained and helpless as I was.
Mona Louisa's hair was a gleaming yellow cascade and her pale skin was as lovely as ever. Only a thin, pink-silver scar above her right breast, where my blade had sank into her, marred her perfection.
She was the vulture who had attacked us. Too bad my knife had been steel instead of silver. Her wound looked as if it'd had five days to heal instead of just five hours. Apparently she had acquired the ability to withstand the sun from Gryphon and had passed it on to at least one of her own men. Reason enough to keep me alive—the potential of passing it on to more of her men. But not if she killed Halcyon. Then she'd most certainly have to kill me. Couldn't risk leaving a witness alive if you murdered the High Prince of Hell.
Not wanting to, but having to, I assessed my own injury. My ripped shoulder was not nearly as neat and clean as Mona Louisa's nice little scar. I'd been sliced wide open: two long, gashing tears slashing through my bicep, curving behind to the back of my shoulder. With my arms stretched tight by the chains, the wound had stayed open. And had started to heal that way. So instead of knitting two pieces of pressed-together flesh back together, it had to fill in the gaping wound like a pit, from the bottom up. The deeper muscle and tendon damage had repaired enough while I'd been out so that I could move my arm now. But it was still a raw, ugly, healing mess. One quick glance was enough to churn my stomach and lighten my head. I looked away before I fainted. Wouldn't want to do that. Mona Louisa would no doubt find a painfully creative way to wake me back up.
Other bodies entered the room, a substantial number of them with healing slices and knitting wounds courtesy of Halcyon's nails. Even weak, they had not taken him easily, I noted with satisfaction. Many of them were faces that I recognized from High Court, her guards. Among those faces peering at me were Gilford, Rupert, and Demetrius, partners in crime to the late unlamented Miles. They'd been part of the original four loaned to me as my personal guards. But instead of protecting me, they had betrayed me. Their expectant gazes and Mona Louisa's glittering eyes shifted the feel of the place. As if it was about to become less dungeon and more torture chamber.
I caught sight of one other familiar face. This one made me catch my breath. "Dontaine?" I whispered as I stared at the arrogantly handsome face of the man I had nursed, the man I had appointed my Master of Arms. His lovely dark green eyes stared impassively back at me. I'd had my suspicions all along, but deep down in my heart, I must not have really believed them or wanted to believe them because the shock of his betrayal was like an unexpected punch in the gut, knocking the wind from me.
"Oh, good. You are awake," Mona Louisa purred. "Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun."
Yup, still a bitch. But not quite the same. Something about her was different. Instead of icy aloofness, she was practically vibrating with emotion. A flux of eagerness and anger spun across her face, and a hot current of deep passion—hatred—burned in her dark pupils. Her diamond blue eyes gleamed with vicious satisfaction as she gazed at the Demon Prince.
She swished up to him, her long full skirt swirling about her feet in graceful peek-a-boo flutters. Coming to a stop before him, she lifted one perfectly manicured fingernail. She pressed the sharp sliver of her nail to his chest and, with eyes avidly fixed upon him, ran it lightly downward. His taut skin broke easily beneath the soft, cutting stroke, spilling blood and more of that clear viscous fluid.
"Cooked to perfection," she crooned. "How does it feel, Prince, to be the one suffering? To be the one being sliced open. Let us see how you hold up, shall we, when you are the one questioned." Once upon a time Halcyon had questioned her in private for the High Council regarding her role in her loaned men's
lax protection of me. The Four Colors, as I'd called them, had handed me over to a band of rogues.
Mona Louisa, it seems, had not enjoyed being questioned by him. Made me wonder what Halcyon had done to her. Not enough, apparently. Nope, she definitely hadn't liked the experience. And she didn't look at all willing to forgive and forget, to let bygones be bygones, and all that other good stuff.
"They're wrong when they say revenge is sweet," Mona Louisa said, raising her perfect oval nail once more, pressing it to another spot one inch over on Halcyon's chest. "Revenge isn't sweet. It's bloody," she whispered and ripped another slice down him. Her hot gleaming eyes watched Halcyon eagerly, disappointed when he didn't even flinch. Blood flowed out sullenly, as if his body were greedy to contain what little it had left.
It was hard to just stand and watch her literally slicing Halcyon's chest to ribbons. Delay. Wait for help. That just wasn't my forte. Depending on others could get you killed. Only now, I had no other choice.
Watching and waiting got a little harder when Mona Louisa uttered a name: "Dontaine."
The men parted, letting him step forward, and I got a glimpse of what was in Dontaine's hands. Whips. Two of them. One was a simple black bullwhip. The other had spiky silver barbs lodged in the long leather strips that flowed out like a horse's tail from the thick stock handle. It was a cat-o'-nine-tails, like what they'd used centuries ago to flog mutinous crew on the high seas.
"The bullwhip first, I think." Mona Louisa curled her soft white hand around the thick phallic-shaped handle and let the curled tail unfurl like a living, writhing leather snake. She caressed the butt against Halcyon's cheek. "Where is the nearest portal to Hell?"
Halcyon remained silent.
"Wrong answer." She stepped back. A flick of a wrist and the bullwhip hissed through the air like an angry serpent and bit into Halcyon. The fingernail had been bad enough. This slicing leather whip with full Monère strength behind it was much, much worse. The leather coil parted Halcyon's flesh like a hot knife cutting through soft butter. His chest was sliced diagonally open from left to right with a gush of soft weeping fluid. The white of his ribs was briefly visible before blood washed them darkly red.