This was no modern church, but a place to worship the old gods. Statues stood sentinel throughout the room, faces that appeared out of the darkness at random, giving the room a creepy feel, like they weren’t alone, that ancient, powerful beings were always watching.
They came to a halt in front of a large door at the end of the passageway. The men glanced at her, waiting for her signal, but she gave them a subtle shake of her head to stand down. They needed to find out what was happening here. These people knew something important about the fog that could give them a clue about what they were fighting.
Locks disengaged as their guards tugged on the door. The dryads prodded them through the doorway with the tips of their spears, only to slam the door behind them with a resounding thud. Four set of locks engaged at once.
Gloom saturated the room, the darkness was so complete, she could only see a few feet in any direction. But instead of cells, the huge room resembled a large, abandoned library. Cobwebs infested the place, covering nearly every surface. Ryder immediately began to gnaw on the vines binding his arms, his sharp teeth flashing. Morgan closed her hand into a fist and felt liquid flow down her hand to form a blade. “Here.”
Ryder extended his arms, and her knife easily sliced through the vegetation. It shriveled, dropping to the ground, where it exploded into a pile of dust. She did the same for each of them. When she freed Kincade, he grabbed the vines binding her, and ripped them apart.
Loki peered out of Kincade’s shirt, his snout twitching, then scrambled up to perch on his shoulder. Kincade ran a finger down the mutt’s spine, smiling when the pup snuggled into his touch with a rumbling grumble of contentment.
The necklace warmed, the metal twisting until the Eye of Horus dangled from the end.
Kincade ran his hand over the metal, nodding as if he understood to be on watch, turning to scrutinize the room.
“Well, you sure landed us in a pile of shit.” The young hellhound scowled at her as he began to pace back and forth.
Smoke rose from Ascher, and he quickly stepped into the young man’s path. “Don’t.”
The kid blinked, licking his lips nervously, clearly intimidated by the bigger hellhound.
“Ascher.” Only when he lifted his attention away from the kid did she speak. “He went through a lot of trouble to locate you. Find out why.”
He didn’t look happy at her order, but nodded.
“I came because they are hunting us. You can’t let them discover that you’re a hellhound.”
Draven snorted. “In case you haven’t noticed, they’re hunting everyone.”
“Not everyone has immunity to the fog.”
Everyone stopped and slowly turned to face the kid.
“Come again?” Kincade and Atlas both prowled closer.
The kid shifted uncomfortably. “They’re trying to use our blood—hellhounds’ blood—to duplicate our immunity.”
“You were trying to warn Ascher.” Morgan shook her head at the selfless risk he took.
“No.” He snarled at her, then yelped when Ascher smacked him on the back of the head. “I came to ask him to help me rescue the others from my village.”
“Where are they being kept?” She glanced at Ascher, concerned at his continued silence.
“I don’t know. They raided my village and many others, dragging everyone away. I was out hunting and came back to find the place deserted.” Exhaustion slumped his shoulders. The kid was running on fumes.
“What’s your name?”
He glared again, but there was no heat behind the look. “Chander.”
“Nothing is happening unless we get out of this room.” Kincade pointed to Atlas and Ryder. “Head right. Draven and I will go left. Report back in ten.”
Before she could protest being left behind, they scattered.
Loki peered at her from his perch on Kincade’s shoulders, and she whispered to him. “Watch over him.”
The mutt straightened at her command, and leapt to the floor, his tail twitching as he whirled to search out any trouble, quickly disappearing into the gloom
Morgan reached out and slipped her hand into Ascher’s, tugging on his arm. “Do you believe him?”
Ascher hesitated, staring at the kid before reluctantly nodding.
A pang went through her…they simply didn’t have time to both solve the issue of the fog and rescue his people. How was she supposed to ask him to choose between his people and her? “Go.”
His head snapped toward her, nearly crushing her hand when he tightened his hold. “No.”
She brought up her free hand, and cradled his face. “Since your people are immune to the fog, you can go freely and help them.”
She would not make him choose…but she was selfish enough to be terrified that he wouldn’t choose her.
“We eradicate the fog, the problem is solved. Hellhounds are guardians. My people would not want me to give up trying to save the realm in order to rescue them.”
“You’re willing to give up your people for her?” Chander was both flabbergasted and outraged.
A snarl twisted Ascher’s face. “If we can’t eliminate the fog, where do you think our people will go? This realm is dying. If we don’t solve this problem, everyone dies.”
Chander glared at them, sulking in silence when he couldn’t come up with a rebuttal.
Her gut clenched at everything he was giving up. “Ascher—”
“You are my main focus now. I will not abandon you.” Steam rose from his clothes, his turbulent blue eyes glowing as his beast surged toward the surface and his control slowly shredded.
Her heart leapt into her throat at his rough confession, her emotions threatening to strangle her. “Ascher—”
He slammed his mouth down on hers, stealing her breath and her protests as he took control of her mouth. His bottom lip was full, his kiss demanding, his taste full of heat. It ignited the need for more. He tried to be gentle, go slow and savor, but his hunger was insatiable.
Her thoughts—hell, the very air she breathed—vanished. All that mattered was him. She slid her hands up his arms, dragging her fingers through the short hair at the back of his head, needing more.
He tore his mouth away, leaving her to groan in protest when he rested his forehead against hers. “I choose you. I will always choose you.”
Pure joy engulfed her, and when her magic rose from her bones to wrap around him, he gave a startled gasp as it caressed him. Through the magic, she could feel everything—his need, his desire, and she groaned with the consuming need to possess him.
Heat emanated from him, smoke rising from where they touched, soaking into her until her every cell craved more of his touch. Then, through the connection, fear began to erode the pleasure and her magic retreated. “Ascher…”
He jerked away in horror, and she bit back her groan of complaint. His expression cooled her ardor. “What’s wrong?”
“I hurt you.” He glared down at his hands in revulsion.
“What do you mean?”
His head jerked up, his mouth opening, then snapping shut when he stepped forward and gingerly inspected her arms. “You’re not burned.”
“Was I supposed to be?” She frowned, glancing down at her smooth skin.
His grip tightened on her arms, and he brushed his face against hers before stepping back and releasing her. She didn’t want to let him go. She even took a step after him when he gave her a blinding smile. “I didn’t burn you.”
She shook her head, trying to stop the way her hands trembled. “Is that why you’ve been keeping your distance from me?”
“It sure in hell wasn’t because Kincade ordered it. When a hellhound’s emotions are engaged, we can become…combustible. Very few can withstand the heat.”
“I enjoyed the heat.” She couldn’t stop the way a blush heated her cheeks. She clasped her hands behind her back, anything to resist the urge to grab him again. “I could feel what you felt.”
It was like an ad
diction.
She wanted more.
This time, it was Ascher’s turn to blush. “It’s what the connection will be like when complete.”
“Come again?” The strength nearly went out of her legs.
“Interesting.” The silver in Ward’s eyes scattered, then reformed, the void magic in him rising, as if he could see something they couldn’t. The kid stood next to him, his eyes wide, his arms out as if he could feel the magic, too.
“Explain.” She stepped closer to Ascher, suddenly uncertain of Ward’s loyalties, unwilling to risk her hellhound.
“The mating usually binds you and your men together. When the connection is strong enough, mates have been known to sense each other’s locations, even hear thoughts. It’s very rare to be connected so deeply as to feel the other’s emotions.” Ward’s eyes were calculating as he gazed at them. “Not only are you healing the bindings among you and your men, your magic is so strong, it is deepening the connection.”
“What’s going on?” Kincade strode out of the gloom, aggression coming off him in waves as he placed himself at her side.
Ward blinked, and whatever took hold of him faded, his eyes going back to their normal silvery hue, but his measured look never left her face as he stared at her…like he knew something she didn’t.
She didn’t like it, but unless she wanted a fight on her hands, she needed to focus on what was more important. She turned toward Kincade, and the hairs rose on the back of her neck. “Where are the others?”
“They were right behind me.” Kincade whirled, but only darkness greeted them. He took a step after them until she quickly grabbed the crook of his arm to stop him.
“I don’t think we’re alone in here.” She glanced back at the rest of the group, trying to pinpoint when things had changed. “I don’t sense any magic, but I don’t think the darkness is natural.”
Maniacal, high-pitched, and completely unhinged laughter echoed throughout the room.
Kincade put his arm protectively in front of her, tucking her behind him.
Then Kincade was yanked off his feet, landing on the floor with an oomph. Something grabbed a hold of his feet and dragged him off into the darkness. His hands hardened, gouged into the stone floor, but it barely slowed his momentum. Morgan leapt after him, landing hard on her stomach, grabbing for his arm…and missed.
Kincade’s eyes locked onto hers…and the stubborn ass refused to grab her hand.
His face hardened. He knew he was going to be taken, but he refused to allow her to be taken with him. A pang of hurt shot through her, but fury quickly overtook her as he was dragged into the darkness.
A light scuffle came from that direction, but quickly fell silent, as if he disappeared into thin air.
She launched to her feet and took a step after him when a shadow shifted in the darkness. Morgan slammed her hand forward, recognizing Atlas too late to pull her punch as he staggered from the darkness. He barely knocked aside her fist. He was pale and sweaty, stumbling to remain upright.
“Run.”
Morgan blinked at him, not understanding. A series of clicks echoed around the chamber, but she couldn’t tell what direction they came from.
A strangled noise came from behind her, “Hmm-mmm-mm.”
Morgan whirled to see the kid thrashing, wrapped by some kind of wispy, white rope, feet kicking wildly as he was yanked toward the ceiling.
He disappeared in seconds.
The blade was in her hands before she had a chance to think. She ran at the wall, using her momentum to take a few steps up to gain height, before kicking off. She lashed out. Her blade met resistance, and she realized the cord was a web, when the knife sliced clean through it.
Then gravity took hold.
The kid plummeted to the ground.
She glanced up to see a massive spider chittering in agitation. A howl of angry denial caught her attention, and she spotted a greenish creature, no more than two feet tall riding the giant spider’s back. As she dropped, a stream of liquid web shot out and caught Chander once more. She watched in horror as he was twirled and spun, swaddled completely in a silky web in a matter of seconds.
Then her feet smacked the floor hard, and she fell on her ass.
Darkness covered the ceiling once more, and the spot where she last saw Chander was empty.
Atlas and Ascher each grabbed one of her arms, dragging her to her feet. They didn’t go far before tripping over a bundled form on the floor.
Morgan dropped to her knees, thinking to find one of her men, but when she frantically cut away the webbing, she saw the desiccated husk of an elf, the purpled skin wrapped tightly over a bag of bones.
Morgan scrambled backwards, only to get tangled in what felt like a wire covered with superglue. When she glanced behind her, yanking out strands of her hair in the process, she saw that she was caught up in a spider’s web bigger than an SUV, the very idea making her skin crawl at how large the creature would have to be to create a web so massive.
Atlas reached her first, trying to pry her away from the web, his uncoordinated movements only getting him tangled in the web next to her. “Stop.”
Morgan angled the blade still in her hand toward the web and began hacking away at the cords. The clicking sound came again and Morgan threw herself forward.
“Down!”
She managed to tackle Atlas to the ground and watched in horror as the spider spit a white, milky substance at Ascher. In seconds, his movements became sluggish as he turned toward her and slumped to the floor. She scrambled toward him, only to have Ward grab her leg and drag her away, Atlas scrambling after them. She kicked at Ward and narrowly missed denting his face.
“He’s gone!”
With her heart heavy, Morgan turned, already knowing what she would find.
Ascher had been taken.
The three of them crouched, going back-to-back as they watched the darkness.
“Did anyone get a good look at the spider?” Ward’s voice was cool and collected, and she hated him a little bit right then for stopping her from going after her men.
“It’s black with gray legs and abdomen or sac.” Morgan waved her hand. “Whatever you call it.” When Ward moved to stand, she grabbed his arm. “A squat, frog-green female creature with yellow eyes and flappy ears almost the size of her head rode on the spider’s back. She’s all sinew, the skin a combination of warts and slime. Her mouth is as wide as her face, her jagged teeth rotting, and barely seem to fit in her mouth.” Morgan didn’t mention that the creature’s breasts were saggy and shriveled, or what little hair she had grew abundantly out of her waxy ears.
“A bogie,” Atlas supplied. “They’re mean, vicious pranksters who like tormenting their prey.”
Morgan mentally went through her knowledge of them, but came up with pitifully little.
“I don’t think we were thrown in here as supper.” Her mind flashed back to the carcass on the floor before she forcefully pushed it away. “I think this is a test.”
“Only the worthy survive.” Ward’s voice was grim. He reached forward, dragged the corpse she’d unwrapped closer and grabbed the femur. The rest of the bones collapsed into a heap. He brought it over his knee, snapping the bone with a sharp crack, leaving the edges ragged and knife-sharp.
“Are you ready to fight?” He ignored Atlas completely, speaking to her alone.
She gave a single nod, gripping her blade tighter, adrenaline pouring through her in anticipation.
“What would you have me do?” Atlas struggled to remain upright.
“You’re bait.” Ward’s voice didn’t hold even a hint of compassion. “You’re too weak to be of much use, you’ll only get in the way.”
“You can do this?” Atlas didn’t look happy about putting her in danger, but didn’t protest his assigned role.
“Yes.” Morgan didn’t hesitate.
She had no other choice.
The clicking came again as the giant spider neared, and Ward gave
her a nod. He closed his eyes, and Morgan instinctively followed his lead. Magic tugged at her until she could almost see the way he shaped the spell by using his will alone.
The way he used magic was unlike anyone else, pure instinct and complete control. It tugged at a long-forgotten memory. Morgan wanted to study what he was doing, but couldn’t risk being distracted.
A flare of bright light hit Morgan’s eyelids, and her eyes snapped open. Every inch of horror in the room was laid bare. She surveyed the room in seconds. Spider webs were strewn everywhere, creating faux walls and ceilings, making it difficult to get a clear sense of size of the room. Cocooned bodies were scattered everywhere, many of the bookshelves occupied, half the cocoons ripped open, leaving skeletons spilled across the floor. A large, black shadow caught her attention—directly above Ward. The spider was hidden behind a massive web, only a subtle movement giving away her location.
The spider was a nightmare brought to life. The head was the size of a buffalo, the fangs the length of Morgan’s arm, the body of the beast the size of a freaking car. Sparse hair was scattered across her body, the strands quivering in the air. The legs were as big as Morgan’s thighs.
Every hair on Morgan’s body stood on end, instinct screaming at her to run. It took all her training to break her paralysis when the creature began to slowly clamber down the web, its body twirling and spinning through the air as it descended.
“Atlas!” She took off running.
Atlas snapped toward her, then quickly dropped to one knee and cupped his hands. She stepped into his hold, then she was airborne when he launched her straight up, narrowly missing the swaying web. She lashed out with her blade, catching the tip of the spider’s front leg.
The arachnid screeched as five inches of her creature’s leg was shorn off and hit the ground, still twitching. The spider waved her injured limb, spraying a white liquid Morgan could only assume was blood across her arm.
Heart of the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 2) Page 17
