“Oh yes.” He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Thrusting the stick into reverse, he flung the car from its parking bay and stamped on the brakes.
Twisting in the passenger seat, I peered out through the back window but couldn’t see anything. The car suddenly bucked, the roof above caving inward. Four gashes ripped through the roof as though it were paper.
“Hold on!” Stefan planted the accelerator to the floor, lurching the car backward again.
I snatched at my seat, clinging on as the invisible hound on the roof tumbled forward, cracking the windscreen and denting the hood on its way down. Stefan locked an arm around the back of my seat. His unwavering glare focused through the rear window, and his other hand twitched the steering wheel. I had a moment to wonder where we were going when the rear of the car plowed into a sizeable chunk of nothingness. The hound yowled.
“Is it dead?”
“Nope. Just pissed.” Stefan slammed the car into gear and yanked the steering wheel, accelerating hard toward the exit ramp. The rear end fishtailed, tires squealing, before the car finally found traction and lunged forward. Its raw horse-power threw me back into my seat.
We burst onto the street, narrowly missing passing traffic. Stefan fought with the steering wheel. The car slid sideways, but he didn’t ease off the accelerator. Engine revving, the car gobbled up the road. Buildings blurred past us. Weaving between the sparse nighttime traffic, Stefan swapped the car from lane to lane. Horns sounded around us.
“Put your seatbelt on.” He stared ahead, his attention divided between the road and mirrors, before changing gears to squeeze yet more acceleration from the engine.
I fumbled with the seatbelt, watching the needle on the speedometer creep higher. Glancing out of the rear window, I couldn’t see anything but the angry flash of headlights from other drivers as they resented our disregard for traffic laws.
“I can’t see them.”
“Take this.” He tossed the gun into my lap before dropping a gear. The car roared, and we burst through an intersection, the red lights little more than a blur in my peripheral vision.
I picked up the weighty gun. “But I can’t see them.”
He stole a brief glance my way. “Call your power. You’ll see them.”
Stefan jerked the car to the right. I clung on, leaning away from the turn as the car drifted toward oncoming traffic. If the hounds didn’t kill us, his driving would. I caught him smiling and frowned at him. He was enjoying this.
Straightening the car out, he said, “You might want to start pointing and shooting about now.”
I twisted in my seat, gun heavy in my hand, and peered out of the rear window. Spilling a little of my element into my body, I let it pool outward, dropping a warm veil over my vision. At first, very little changed. As the car twitched and jerked, I struggled to focus. Then I saw the glass windows blow from the ground floor of a nearby building. Ahead of the devastation, a parked car bounced sideways, an entire side caved in. I tried to focus on where I thought the beast to be, using the wake of destruction as a pointer, and saw its hazy outline shimmer into existence.
It was huge, the size of a small car and hairless except for several razor-edged spikes running down its back. Its hideous bulk bounded toward us, bouncing off the city obstructions like a dog through an agility course. I tried to steady the gun on the seatback but the constant twisting and lurching made aiming impossible. “I can’t get a shot.”
“You want me to pull over?”
“No!” I saw a gleam of mischief in his eyes and swore at him. Sarcastic and arrogant, what a charmer.
“It’s gaining!” The hound had our scent, its crimson eyes wide with fury as it chased us down.
I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened.
“Flick the safety off,” Stefan helpfully suggested, suppressing a laugh.
I fumbled with the safety, yanked the slide on the barrel back, and fired. The recoil nearly tore my arm off. The bullet punched through the shatterproof rear window, but the shot went high, completely missing the hound. To make matters worse, its pack-mate raced up the street, leaping over slow-moving traffic without breaking its stride.
Stefan’s car slowed. “Don’t slow down,” I said, “They’re almost on us.”
He checked the mirrors and cast a glance ahead at a tourist bus lumbering its way down the street.
I looked back and yelped. The hound’s snout was level with the rear of the car, black tongue lolling, saliva foaming around its mouth. It snapped at the rear fender, bumping its head against the metal. The car broke away, threatening to spin. Stefan steered into the slide, regaining control as we drew level with the bus. The hound slammed a muscular shoulder into the rear door, growling through bared teeth. Head level with Stefan’s door, it thrust its skull into the window. Glass exploded over Stefan. Great gleaming jaws snapped together, inches from Stefan’s shoulder.
“Shoot!” he yelled.
I fired out through the rear passenger window, hitting the hound clean in the rump just as Stefan tugged against the steering wheel and slammed the car into the beast, pinning it against the side of the bus. Shattered glass and screaming metal assaulted my senses, but we swerved free of the coach as it veered off the road, smoke bellowing from its brakes.
Behind us, the stunned hound slumped on the road, its hollow whimpers lost among the squeal of brakes, and the traffic fast backing up behind us. The second beast didn’t hesitate as it galloped past its fallen pack-mate.
“Go, go!” I screamed.
Stefan fumbled with the gear shift, and the car shuddered forward. He muttered something, then found the right gear and rammed the accelerator to the floor. The Dodge growled as Stefan demanded every ounce of horsepower from its engine. As we thundered forward, the hound snapped its jaws at my side of the car. It missed then struck again. This time, its teeth crunched into metal, tearing out the entire rear light cluster and tossing it aside.
As our speed increased, the hound fell back. We were pulling away. I watched the beast closely. The street blurred, and the engine roared in my ears. The Hellhound had me in its sights. Its penetrating stare held me transfixed. Stefan was right. It was after me, and if it got to me, those vicious teeth would tear strips of flesh from my bones. I shuddered and called more of my element.
“You can’t stop it.” Stefan must have sensed the change in me. He probably felt the ambient temperature rise.
“I’ve got to try.”
“We—”
A horn blared. We both looked out the driver’s side just as the truck t-boned into the side of the Dodge. The massive grille and blinding headlights were the last things I saw before my entire world spun. Metal and glass shrieked, groaned and shattered. Abrupt needles of pain dashed against me from all sides. I don’t recall exactly how Stefan’s car ended up on its roof. It’s likely I blacked out and only reawakened when Stefan tugged on my seatbelt.
I heard him calling to me, his voice flowing in and out with the ringing in my ears. Peeling my eyes open, I realized I couldn’t see, at least not at first. My muddled mind tried to comprehend which way was up. I blinked rapidly, clearing my right eye. The car no longer resembled a car at all, just a twisted hunk of metal entombing me. I pushed down on the roof, scraping my bare arms against serrated metal.
“The belt!” Stefan reached in through the compressed passenger window and tugged on my seatbelt again. “Quickly.”
I smelled fuel and heard the tick of the cooling engine. Panic spilled ice water into my veins. “Oh god.” I fumbled at the latch, jabbing at the red button to release me, but my own weight pulling down on the belt trapped the buckle in its latch.
A monstrous howl rippled through the night.
Stefan snapped his head up then pulled back out of sight. I whimpered in frustration, tugging on the damned seatbelt. Weren’t these things meant to save lives? My breath rasped in short sharp gasps. My heart galloped behind my ribs. The tingling sensation of
my element trickled forth. The source of it at my core broiled in response to my panic. Considering how I hung upside-down over a pool of gasoline, the last thing I wanted was fire or heat of any kind, but my instincts weren’t listening. Goddamnit, I wasn’t dying there, trapped in a steel coffin. I hadn’t survived years of torture and countless assassination attempts to die like that. I was stronger than that, better than that.
Rage chased away the debilitating effects of fear. I screamed at the damned seatbelt, punching the buckle until it finally released me, depositing me unceremoniously upside down amid the mangled wreckage. Twisting around inch by inch, I managed to get myself into a position where I could grab the passenger door and drag myself through the tiny gap that had once been the window. My head barely squeezed through. My cheek grated against the shattered glass. I reached out with a hand, clawing at the pavement to try and find purchase so I could pull myself free.
I saw Stefan.
He kneeled on one knee in the road. Sparkling vines of ice rooted him to the ground. His entire body, clothes and all, glinted sharply with fragments of ice. But it was the wings that held me spellbound. They rose from his back, insubstantial, not quite solid enough to touch, but very real. Each feather appeared to be made of ice. The light from the streetlights fractured through each fine barb, casting multicolored shafts of light on the black asphalt surrounding him.
I watched, awestruck as he hunkered down, wings flexing behind him while he summoned a sword of ice into his right hand. Jagged fragments of crystalline ice layered one on top of the other, creating a long, thin weapon. I’d been mistaken. It wasn’t a sword but a spear.
A snarling growl tore my attention from Stefan. The remaining hound stood within leaping distance of Stefan. Its monstrous head hung low, lips rippling over glistening teeth. Drool pooled on the road just ahead of its substantial paws. The spines along its back rippled, making a hideous hissing as they scraped together. It stood still, leg muscles bunched, ready to spring forward at any moment.
Then it saw me and cocked its head to one side. Its leathery lips formed a grin.
“Hey. Not her! Me!” Stefan stood, ice cracking off him. Fragments of it tinkled against the road surface.
I heard sirens nearby, but the authorities were the least of our concerns. Clawing again at the road, I attempted to drag myself free, but every movement drew the hound’s attention right back to me.
Stefan growled and flung an ice shard at the beast. It shattered against its thick hairless flesh, doing little damage. I realized we were probably about to die. You can’t kill them, and you can’t stop them. What chance did we have?
He flung a second shard of ice. A third. The hound snarled its fury then sprang off its feet, leaping at Stefan. He hunkered low, wrapping his right arm around the spear and thrusting it up right through the belly of the hound, using its own momentum to fling it over him. The beast yowled, slamming into the road with a heavy thump. Its front leg pawed at the air. Its keening whimpers hollow and chilling.
Stefan came for me, tossing aside the ice spear as he reached down, and clasped a bitterly cold hand around mine. He tugged me free of the wreckage just as the police cars squealed into the street behind us. As his icy visage melted away, wings dissolving into snow and dissipating, he scanned our surroundings. The buildings lining the street huddled closely together.
“There, the alley. Go.”
I ran, adrenalin fuelling my fight or flight response, and kept up with Stefan as we ducked into the alley. A chain-link fence blocked our path. He didn’t hesitate but clambered up a dumpster and leaped over the top. I scrambled after him, landing awkwardly on the other side. Then we were off, sprinting across the small open space of a children’s playground. A howl resonated around the empty space. I managed to find an extra burst of speed, and bowing my head low, I sprinted with every drop of physical strength I had left.
Reaching the other side of the park, Stefan dropped down a set of steps alongside a building and kicked in the door to someone’s basement apartment. Once inside, he slammed the door closed and plucked an aerosol can from his coat pocket. Giving it a token shake, he flicked on the lights and sprayed red paint over the door and wall, creating a large circle with swirling symbols inside. Done with one wall, he proceeded to spray the same mark on the opposite wall.
I heard another howl. The sound sent a shiver crawling across my flesh. “It’s close.”
He didn’t reply, just continued to spray the paint on the wall. Then he shoved the couch into the center of the open-plan lounge/kitchen and stepped onto the cushions, resting one boot on the back of the couch while reaching up to spray paint the ceiling.
I hugged my arms against me and watched the door. If the hound came through, we were dead. I still panted hard, lungs burning in my chest. A full-body ache asserted itself. I hadn’t even noticed I was injured. The adrenalin had worked so efficiently to keep me moving, but now I’d stopped my limbs didn’t quite feel like my own and a throbbing pain tried to punch out of my skull.
Stefan also breathed hard, sucking in air through his teeth. He shook the can and reached up to finish the mark, then hissed and winced, clearly in pain. Blood bloomed across his shirt.
Jumping off the couch, he crossed to the kitchen area and proceeded to spray the kitchen units with the same mark.
“Will these marks stop it?” I brushed my hands up my arms, trying to rub off the goose bumps.
“Yes,” he replied gruffly. “This symbol, it restricts elemental magic. More precisely, demon magic. By placing it around us like this, I’ve created a cocoon, cutting us off from the elements. Once the Hellhounds lose our scent, they’ll return to their master.”
I nodded. That sounded good enough for me.
“It also means you can’t go nuclear on me. So don’t bust a blood vessel trying.”
So, I was trapped in there, with him, unable to call my power, until the Hellhounds got bored. Great.
Only when Stefan had finished marking all four walls, ceiling and floor, of the small basement apartment did he finally stop. He tossed the spray can on the small kitchen countertop and slumped against the cupboards. “We’re safe. For now.”
I couldn’t help glancing back at the door, expecting the horrid things to come crashing in at any moment, but as the seconds ticked on and nothing happened, I breathed a little easier.
Chapter 9
The beige patterns and cream overtones of the small basement apartment were comfortable enough, and thankfully the owner wasn’t home. Perhaps it was a weekend bolt-hole. Either way, I was glad I didn’t have to explain any of this to people not accustomed to demons barging into their lives. I roamed the lounge area, admiring the photos of a man with two young girls who I assumed to be his kids, and felt a pang of guilt for vandalizing his apartment.
Stefan had shaken off his coat and slung it over the couch. The red bloom of blood on his shirt hinted at a wound beneath. “Are you alright?” His expression was almost one of concern.
I didn’t reply immediately. I was trying to work out what was happening. My thoughts ran amok. He had saved me, again. There was no doubt in my mind; Stefan wasn’t sent to kill me, but I was a long way from trusting him. “I think so.”
He crossed the room and reached out, as though about to touch my face. I flinched away, moving around the couch, shivering in my torn and bloody dress.
“You’re hurt… You have a cut over your right eye. I was just… Never mind.” He returned to the little kitchen and stood with his back to me. I caught the memory of his wings and averted my eyes. He hadn’t looked like any demon I’d ever seen before. He’d looked… glorious.
He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders, letting it slip down his back then peeled the fabric away from the jagged gash in his side. A fragment of metal protruded from his skin with blood oozing around its sharp edges. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the shard and yanked it free with a hiss.
“Thank you,” I said, trying not to wince in
sympathy. “You didn’t have to do any of that for me.”
He grunted an acknowledgement and tossed the bloodied fragment of metal in the kitchen sink where it rattled. Finding some paper towels, he tore a few sheets free of the roll then dampened them before pressing the wad of paper against the weeping wound.
He turned, leaning back against the countertop. I admired his physique before I could stop myself. I might have glanced away if a tattoo hadn’t caught my eye. On the muscular plain of his navel where his jeans hung low, two entwined scorpions had been tattooed into his smooth skin. I couldn’t help staring. So many questions went through my mind, but I wasn’t sure I had the energy to ask, knowing the answers wouldn’t be easy. Exhausted, bruised, and battered, I didn’t want any part of this madness. I wanted to go home, but didn’t even have one anymore.
“Will you let me take a look at that cut?” he asked after allowing me a few moments to collect my thoughts.
I shook my head. “Stay away from me.”
“Fine.” He tore off more paper towels and proceeded to clean himself up while I watched. I wanted to hate him. Ever since he’d entered my workshop, everything had gone wrong. That wasn’t a coincidence, and yet I was beginning to believe he didn’t want to hurt me. I couldn’t have survived what we’d just been through without him.
“You were right,” I perched on the edge of the couch, hands clasped together on my thighs, knuckles white. “They were sent for me.”
He gave me a cool glance before returning his attention to the wound. “You have many enemies, Muse.”
“But you aren’t one of them?”
“No.”
“Akil said you were.”
Stefan snorted. “Akil. Right.” He rummaged through some drawers and found a small tube of Loctite. “I could use your help… if you can stand to be within two feet of me.”
I stood and approached him. Considering everything he had done, I could hardly say no. “What do you want me to do?”
Demons & Djinn: Nine Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Novels Featuring Demons, Djinn, and other Bad Boys of the Underworld Page 149
