by Amy Braun
But that roar came from somewhere.
I don’t know how far through the room I was before I heard a low growling noise. I froze in place, listening carefully. I thought I was starting to hear things, until whatever it was growled again. I gripped my hatchet tightly.
The attack came so suddenly that I cried out when it hit me. A huge mass slammed into my back and knocked me onto the cold stone floor. It was big. It was strong. It was ripping through my oversized jacket, about to latch onto my skin.
It shook me back and forth like a chew toy. Something like heavy paws were pressed onto my lower back as the creature continued to whip my torso back and forth. The flashlight was tossed from my belt. I cried out in pain as it twisted my body sharply, the monster trying to snap me in half. I swung back with the hatchet, catching the monster in the leg. It roared angrily and let me go. I twisted onto my back to see what it was.
It was the size of an Irish wolfhound. It had no hair, but oily black skin and vicious looking claws on its feet. Its eyes were solid black except for a few red veins, and its serrated teeth poked over its snarling lips. Two small, curved horns were behind its sharp ears. Its body was lean and well muscled. It smelled like wet fur, blood, and sulfur.
My heart froze in chest. I had seen these things at Owl Creek. They’d been the creatures I’d feared the most. Even before Manny’s demonology lessons, I had known what this was.
Hellhound.
The beast tensed and snarled. I got ready for it to jump on me again, but it didn’t. Instead, it let out a vicious roar, and then disappeared back into the shadows of the room.
I scrambled for the flashlight, hooking it onto my belt as best as I could. I hurried to my feet and turned in a circle, grabbing a knife to calm myself. It wasn’t working. I could hear the hellhound growling in the shadows, but every time I thought I knew where it was, the sound would come from somewhere new.
I was being hunted.
A heavy swipe crashed into my right side and whipped me around, tearing apart more of my ragged jacket. I could feel new bruises forming. I straightened and looked around. There was still no sign of the hellhound.
I didn’t have to wait long for the next attack. The monster leaped onto my chest, knocking me onto the ground and sinking its fangs into my shoulder.
I screamed as it ripped into my flesh, barely having the strength to keep it from completely tearing my arm off. It had to be at least three hundred pounds of muscle. It shook its head from side to side, shredding more of my flesh. I slammed my hatchet into the side of its head and used the knife to stab it in the stomach. The hellhound had tougher skin than any other demon I’d come across, but after the repeated hits and stabs it finally took its teeth out of me. Warm blood spilled down my chest, and I barely had a second to breathe before the hellhound latched its teeth into my lower leg and threw me across the room.
I rolled on the ground, praying my blades wouldn’t cut me as I tumbled. My leg throbbed from the bite, bleeding profusely, but the pain proved it was there. The hellhound drove its head into my ribs and turned me onto my side, jaws ready to clamp down for the kill.
I stabbed the hellhound as fast as I could before it bit down, my silver knife finding the hellhound’s eye. It howled and backed away into the shadows. I had seconds, if that. I tried a new tactic. I went for the holy water on my hip, unscrewing the cap. The hellhound was suddenly behind me, its teeth sinking into my undamaged shoulder.
More pain tore through my upper body, but I threw the holy water over my shoulder into the hellhound’s face. It roared and released me again. I could smell burning demon flesh, and now I could also see smoke. I got to my feet, fiery pain shooting down my injured leg, and narrowed my eyes on the smoking demon. I lunged forward and hammered my hatchet down onto the back of the hellhound’s neck. It barked angrily as it crumpled, but I kept driving the hatchet down as fast as my injured shoulders would allow. Every strike cut deeper. I poured holy water on the hellhound to keep it in too much pain to escape.
I reached the bone in the hellhound’s neck, and kept hacking away.
I don’t know how long it took until I had all but severed the hellhound’s head from its body. By the time it dissolved into ash, my arms were almost numb. There wasn’t an inch of me that didn’t hurt. Adrenaline and fear made my whole body tremble. I screamed it all away.
I stood there and let some of the pain fade until I was sure I wasn’t going to collapse, then breathed again. I took the flashlight off my belt and shone it around the room, finding the door I’d entered. I tested my weight on my injured shin. It was stiff, but I was lucky enough that I wouldn’t be limping around very much. I forced myself to get used to it.
Warrick and Max were still shouting, trying to find a way in. I found the pentagram symbol near the edge of my side of the door. Rather than cut open my hand again, I took smeared some of the fresh blood from one of my shoulders onto my fingers and painted it over the symbol. The door clicked and rumbled open.
It wasn’t long before I saw Warrick and Max. Judging by the shocked look on their faces, I guessed I didn’t look too hot.
“Jesus,” Max breathed, “did you get into a fight with a fucking dog or something?”
“Actually, yes,” I mumbled.
Warrick moved up to my side and looked at my latest injuries, frowning intensely.
“It looks worse than it is,” I said, carefully taking off my jacket and trying not to wince very much.
“I doubt that,” he pointed out.
“I’ll be fine,” I told him stubbornly.
I glanced down at the bites on my shoulders. They burned fiercely, but weren’t deep enough to cause severe bleeding. I shrugged them, wincing as tense pain flared in them. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to adapt to the pain. I needed my arms to keep fighting. The hurt was just something I would have to deal with.
I started walking back into the room. Warrick stepped in front of me.
“You should stay here,” he said. “Max and I will bring Andromeda back.”
My eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to sit here and hope for the best. I’m going to save my sister.”
I tried to get past him, but Warrick didn’t move.
“You’ve been through enough, Constance. If you keep going, you’re only going to get hurt again. No one would think less of you if you stopped and let us do this.”
I clenched my fists. “No.”
Warrick’s gaze never left mine, and for once I wasn’t distracted by it. The fight with the hellhound had cleared my head. Dro was so close– so close. Giving up now would be not only stupid, but cowardly.
“Warrick,” said Max, “she’s gonna come no matter what you tell her. Might as well stop trying.”
He looked at my shoulders and leg. “Will you at least let me stop your bleeding?”
I sighed. “Fine. But hurry up.”
Warrick frowned, then knelt down and started wrapping my leg. To distract myself, I looked at Max.
“That door was probably meant to stay locked until the hellhound was killed,” I said.
Max blinked. “Wait, you fought and killed a hellhound?!”
“Yeah.”
“What did it look like?”
I described it to him as best as I could. He blinked again, a boyish grin starting to play on his face.
“Holy shit, you fought and killed a hellhound! That’s gonna piss off the bad guys for sure.”
“Great. More demons hating me. Just what I need.”
Warrick stood up and gently touched my elbows. I got the hint and raised them as much as I could. He moved close to me as he tenderly wrapped the gauze under my arms and around my shoulders. It was hard to breathe with him so close. Whenever I did, I smelled the blood and sweat from the earlier fights, but also the musky pine scent that was his.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Max seriously while Warrick finished turning me into a mummy. “Can you see what’s going on with Dro?”
<
br /> The grin left his face. “They’re doing that ritual, trying to open the Hell Gate. She’s trapped with them. I…” He held his breath. “It doesn’t look good, Constance.”
I didn’t ask him what he meant. I’d find out soon enough.
Warrick finally backed away from me, reaching into the med kit and taking out a bottle of painkillers. He skimmed the label, opened, the top, and gave me the prescribed amount. I took the little pills and dry swallowed them. My shin and shoulders still throbbed and burned, but the painkillers would do wonders soon. I tried to smile at the demon slayer, but there was no humor in his stern eyes.
I walked past him and Max, moving as quickly as I could to the other end of the room. I had no idea how I was going to rescue my sister given the state I was in. From what Max had said, Dro was probably going to have to be carried out.
Doesn’t matter. She needs you.
I walked faster.
I reached the far wall and pulled the door open, slipping out into the tunnels. A faint red glow flickered on the left, so I turned in its direction. We turned off our flashlights and Warrick moved up to my side. As we got closer to the light, we heard faint chanting. It didn’t sound Latin, or any human language for that matter. We saw an archway ahead and got on our stomachs. We crawled forward and looked down the stone staircase into the cavern.
I didn’t pay much attention to the surrounding area at first. Maybe I should have. That’s where my enemies were.
But it was impossible to do when I saw my little sister covered in blood.
Chapter 17
It took every ounce of sense and willpower not to run for her, screaming like a Valkyrie for revenge. If we were going to save Dro, we had to be smart.
But there was so much blood…
Dro was lying on a grey stone altar, her wrists and ankles shackled with iron cuffs, leaving her spread eagled and completely vulnerable. Her snow-white hair spilled around her head and down the sides of the stone. She wore what might have been a simple white gown once, but now it was drenched in red. She was a bright red beacon in the dark.
Blood coated her. Her hands and feet were soaked in it, faint streaks were in her hair, and more was on her face. I couldn’t tell if it was her blood or someone else’s, but it didn’t matter. Dro wasn’t moving. She might be unconscious, but she had to be alive. Isabel needed her for the summoning, and the ritual didn’t seem to be over yet. But it was completely possible that she was being bled to death.
On either side of me, the guys were as speechless. Warrick was still, but Max was shaking. Or maybe that was me. It was hard to tell, given how wrapped in fury and anxiety I was. I forced myself to calm down a little and looked around at the rest of the cavern.
The tunnel walls had been smoothed out and curved in the center. The altar itself was on a small stage washed with even more blood, a thirty foot pentagram circling the stone and ignited by fire. The flames were close to Dro, but not hurting her. I had to squint my eyes to see her blood steadily dripping into the fire.
At the head of stone altar, dressed in a black robe and chanting in demon tongue, was Isabel. She was completely focused on what she was doing, clearly excited about it.
I turned my head back to the center of the cavern, seeing a bulky frame against the wall. Drake.
Warrick noticed him too, tensing beside me. I put my hand on his arm to keep him from moving. We needed a plan, and like me, he knew it. But also like me, he wasn’t happy about it.
“Oh my God,” Max breathed next to me.
We looked over and followed the direction of his finger as he pointed to the far right corner of the room. I squinted, not sure what I was looking at. It just looked like a huge pile of…
Bodies.
There were dozens of them, heaped like trash. I understood where all the blood had come from. Sephiel had said that opening the Gates of Hell would require a lot of blood, but seeing it was worse than I imagined. Innocent people had been slaughtered for no fucking reason. Anger and disgust built in me, and I struggled to keep myself under control. I turned my head back in Isabel’s direction as she performed the ritual.
“What do we do?” Warrick whispered in my ear.
I looked into the cavern as Isabel chanted. The area was too open. Drake was on guard, his head turned in the direction of the ritual. Even though he was looking away now, he would see us coming down the steps.
“I don’t suppose anyone is carrying a sniper rifle?” Max muttered.
“Yeah, in my pocket full of dreams,” I replied. I frowned. “We can’t get past without Drake seeing.”
Warrick carefully cracked open his shotgun and loaded it quickly. He clicked it shut, then handed it to me.
“We need a diversion. I’ll get Drake’s attention, and give you and Max the chance to get Andromeda out of here.”
I raised my eyebrows at him, remembering how badly he’d been hurt the last time he fought Drake. “Then take your gun so he doesn’t shoot you.”
Warrick’s eyes were lasers. “He won’t shoot me. He’ll go for the up close and personal kill.”
He didn’t need to explain anymore. Bad blood ran deep for some people. Drake and Warrick had enough to fill an ocean.
“John,” I said, hoping he would listen if I used his first name. God knows my voice softened and my heart swelled when I did. “It’s not a good idea. It’s too dangerous.”
He smirked. “I seem to remember saying similar things to you.” The smile left his face as quickly as it came. “This is the best way, and you know it. Dro is only going to suffer more if we keep waiting. Let me do what I can for you, then get her out of here.”
“John–”
He put his hand on my face. Its warmth pulsed into me, and my heart strained.
“I couldn’t protect my sister, Constance. Let me help you protect yours.”
Warrick suddenly pushed forward and kissed me. I could barely think between my surprise and the way he tasted. His lips were soft, his kiss passionate. His scent filled every breath, long dark eyelashes brushing against my cheek. Desire rushed through me, and I pushed myself closer to him. I was lost, and craving more. I had become attached to him, and now I didn’t want him to leave. If he did, I might never see him again.
He pulled back, green eyes sparkling like emeralds under the sun. They were filled with longing, satisfaction, and bleakness.
He broke my heart even more when he smiled sadly and said, “Probably won’t get the chance to do that again any time soon.”
Warrick pushed himself off the ground and walked down the staircase before I could beg him to stay. Max and I remained on the ground, though my heart was racing and my head was screaming for me to help Warrick and keep him alive. It wasn’t long before Drake saw him and pushed off the back wall.
“Well, well, well,” Drake jeered as he walked toward Warrick. His husky drawl echoed off the cavern walls. “What are you doing here all alone, Johnny-boy? Did you ditch that dead Mexican bitch’s crew? Or did you just miss me?”
“I’m not here because of her,” Warrick growled. “I’m here because I’m going to kill you.”
Drake laughed. “I’ve always liked your ambition, Johnny-boy. It’s nice to have a dream.”
I looked at Max. “Get ready to move,” I whispered, clutching the shotgun. “Don’t go near Isabel. Work on getting Dro free.”
“How? Did you bring massive bolt cutters, or are those in your pocket full of dreams, too?” I glared at him. He shrank back immediately. “Sorry. I’m stressed out.”
I looked back down to the altar. “Isabel probably has the keys. I’ll get them from her. Just be ready.”
“But you’re right,” I heard the bounty hunter say. “It’s been years since we started this. Tonight seems like a good night to finish it.”
Drake’s words sent a chill down my spine. He wasn’t going to let Warrick get away this time, and I couldn’t get involved. I continued to watch them as I moved down the steps. Warrick rais
ed his fists, holding himself in a boxing stance. He circled around so Drake’s back was to us.
Max and I began moving.
We raced down the stairs as Warrick and Drake launched themselves at each other. Warrick barely missed a hit that would have knocked his lights out. He drove his fist into Drake’s stomach, then punched him in the jaw. Warrick took a step back and kicked Drake in the ribs. He tried again, but the bounty hunter lunged forward and punched him in the chest. Warrick stumbled back, stepping aside when Drake’s fist flew past him again. They were too close, and Drake’s elbow slammed into the side of Warrick’s head. The demon slayer stumbled, and was kicked to the ground.
If the situation hadn’t been so desperate, I would have dropped everything to help Warrick and avenge Manny’s death. But the whole point of this fight was to draw attention away from what Max and I were trying to do. I hated seeing Warrick getting hurt to buy us time, but I couldn’t be in two places at once. I had to hold onto the belief that the demon slayer would turn the fight around, and that Drake would be the one who was lying broken at the end.
I sprinted for the stage, where Isabel’s chanting was intense and loud. If she noticed a deadly fistfight in the cavern, she didn’t seem to care. Which meant the spell was drawing to a close.
Isabel shouted the last words of her spell, throwing her hands out on either side of her body. Dro suddenly woke up. Her body snapped back and forth. She screamed at the same time the portal opened.
It was the biggest one I’d seen in six years. It was at least fifteen feet wide and seventeen feet tall. The flames of Hell twisted out of it, the heat so intense that I started to sweat. Dro was thrashing and screaming on the altar. Isabel laughed manically behind her, but we were almost there.
Then it stepped through the portal.
This demon had the shape of a devastatingly beautiful man. He was seven feet tall, his skin marble white and flawless. His body was broad, his muscles clear and defined. All he wore was a black loincloth lined with gold. Long, white hair hung straight down to the base of his spine, not a lock of it out of place. Growing out of his back were four horned, bat-like wings, the larger ones on his shoulder blades while the smaller ones exited from his lower ribs. His eyes were black from lid to lid. A cold, devastating, merciless black.
