Red Blooded

by Amanda Carlson

  Tyler, hit the doors, I yelled.

  He didn’t pause to ask if it was a solid plan, he was already in motion while I arced my foot into the next one. I’d knocked down two, exploding them open with enough force to shatter them completely, before the Prince reacted, physically shaking himself.

  “What are you doing?” he boomed. “You cannot win! Leave those doors alone.”

  “Whatever you’re keeping locked up behind these doors is about to come out and join us,” I yelled as I moved forward toward another one. “I hope they’re not your pets, because I’m hoping things get nice and ugly for all of us.”

  Jess, Tyler whispered in my head, these aren’t his pets.

  “You are an absolute menace,” the Prince snarled, moving forward. I had backed away from him as I kicked in the doors, and he was almost to me when something big stepped out of the door I’d just obliterated, coming between us.

  I stumbled back to get out of the way. This thing had to duck to get through the doorway. It was gigantic.

  The Prince of Hell was forced to come to a standstill in front of it.

  This creature wasn’t happy, either. It gave a long groan, which sounded like a roar mixed with a battle cry.

  It seemed we’d just freed some of the Prince’s prisoners and they were pissed.

  Is that a… troll? I asked Tyler, still backing out of the way, putting more separation between us and them. Why would a troll be in the Underworld? I’d never seen one before.

  Beats the hell out of me, but if it stays focused on the Prince I’m all for it. Let’s keep moving backward.

  The troll’s skin was sallow and sagging and its pace was sluggish. This was clearly not its normal habitat and it looked like it had been down here for a very long time.

  It was also seven feet tall and as wide as the doorway itself.

  “Get back.” The Prince shooed it with his hand. “Go back into your cell, you dirty beast. This fight is not yours.”

  The troll didn’t move.

  Instead it started to keen and rock, the high-pitched sound coming from its throat surprising me. But before the Prince could use any magic on it, a shadow fell on the open doorway a few paces to my right.

  I moved away quickly, not knowing what it was, and collided with Tyler’s chest, his hands steadying my shoulders as he walked us both backward.

  “What is it?” I whispered, trying not to call attention to us in any way.

  He leaned over and murmured, “I think it might be… a ghoul.”

  “A ghoul?” I gasped. “Are you sure? I didn’t think they really existed.”

  “Me neither, but look at it. What else would it be?”

  He was right.

  As the thing eased out of the doorway, it appeared to be haunted—as in just-from-the-grave ghostly. Its skin was gray and peeling. It resembled a human, but a very dead one who had come back to life as something else. Ghouls, from myth, were dead bodies reanimated by powerful necromancers. And once a ghoul came back to life, only its necromancer could control it.

  “I thought ghouls were like puppets,” I whispered, both of us continuing to take hefty steps away from the brewing melee. “Only controlled by a master, like a zombie on a leash?”

  “Who knows,” Tyler said. “I’ve certainly never seen one before and I don’t know much about them.”

  The Prince of Hell roared, “Get back, necromancer! You are not needed here. Go back to your cell if you do not want one final death.”

  The troll took a giant step toward the Prince, who was now openly clenching and unclenching his fists, just short of losing it completely.

  “Well,” I said to my brother. “I guess now we now know what a dead necromancer looks like. They must come back as a ghoul themselves once they die.”

  Tyler elbowed me. “When the troll takes a swing, we start running.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

  The troll took a swing at the Prince and we both turned.

  Straight into a bevy of snarls and howls.

  “Freeze!” The demon guard aimed an ugly-looking weapon at our heads. He yelled in heavily accented English, “Put your hands up.” The gun resembled some kind of mini rocket launcher, and to make matters worse, the demons behind this one were juggling two grown chupacabras on straining leashes, snapping their pointy teeth at us.

  They were incredibly massive with huge incisors and spiny backs with lethal-looking points.

  My brother and I lifted our arms.

  Behind us the Prince of Hell shouted once more, and then a shock of power hit the hallway, reverberating around seismic tremor.

  We turned around to see the poor troll give a strangled yell as it crashed to its knees, making the floor jump. It fell prone on the ground and lay there unmoving. The ghoul went next in another rush of power. Its body smashing against the wall as it crumpled to the floor like a bag of rotted bones.

  With the troll down I could see the Prince’s face clearly. If the Demon Lord could’ve willed us dead, we would’ve been toast. “These creatures didn’t need to die!” he boomed. “They were of use to me! Now you will pay dearly for their deaths along with all the others.”

  “I would happily free your prisoners again,” I called. “They didn’t look like they were enjoying their extended stay in Hotel Hell anyway. I wonder if keeping supernaturals prisoner for this long is against High Law? I hardly believe that troll came to the Underworld on its own looking for trouble.”

  I noticed now that three of the other occupants had wisely chosen to stay inside their rooms rather than face the angry Prince, even though their doors had been destroyed.

  The Prince of Hell stepped over the troll and came straight at us.

  Before I could get another word out, he raised his hands and power shot into the air with lightning speed. I heard Tyler yell in terror as the Prince’s dark essence hit me squarely in the chest, tossing me backward.

  Blackness pulled me under, filing me up immediately, until there was nothing else.

  12

  I awoke with a gasp, my body jolting upward like I’d been shocked. My hand went straight to my chest, where the Prince had blasted me, as blood pounded in my ears, sounding like a rushing ocean with a heartbeat. My wolf paced back and forth in my mind. It was obvious she had been waiting for me to wake up for some time.

  What happened? I asked her as I blinked and glanced around, trying to get my bearings.

  She flashed me a picture of us being consumed by darkness.

  I saw that part, but how did it happen? I had defeated the Prince of Hell’s magic before, and now that I had demon essence inside me, I’d been certain I could defeat him again—or at the very least hold my own in a fight. Where did the blackness go?

  I glanced down at my hands like they would somehow give me answers to my burning questions, but of course they appeared perfectly normal. My fingernails had seen better days, but they weren’t falling off or streaked black with demon juice.

  I rested one hand on the cool, slippery white floor beside me while I rubbed my other absentmindedly over my chest. Where are we?

  After a moment, I stood slowly, turning in a full circle. The room was all white, and unlike in Lily’s cell, there wasn’t a scrap of furniture to be found. No bed, no dresser, which to me indicated no long-term stay.

  I was taking that as a win.

  There weren’t any doors either, and this time there wasn’t even a cutout where a door should’ve been. The room seemed to be hermitically sealed. I knew this wasn’t true, but it was still unsettling. I had to find a way out.

  I paced forward, searching.

  That wasn’t an ordinary shock of magic the Prince hit us with, I told my wolf. She didn’t answer. She was too focused on sending our power out now that I was finally awake. Either the Prince has always held out on us, or something else happened back there. I should not have fallen so easily to his magic.

  It bothered me. I’d bested the Demon Lord before, so why
was this time any different?

  In my short experience as a wolf, I’d learned that magic had to go somewhere. When a supe was blasted with foreign magic, as the Prince and Tally had done to me, it either had to flow out, which is what Tally had hoped I’d do with it—or it had to be forced out like Ray had done when he vomited.

  In my case alone, it stayed inside.

  Most supes could transfer power easily, as my brother had to me when I’d needed it, but power wasn’t raw magic—it was energy, like giving a car a jump so it could grab its own juice. A supe needed power to make magic.

  Magic was alive.

  It was your signature, something that manifested from deep within you, and it made you unique. The stronger the supernatural, the more power they could generate. Thus their ability to control their magic was more potent.

  This was what Rourke had been telling me all along.

  The stronger the supe, the higher they were on the supernatural food chain. A supe with less power did not engage those with more power very often. But, on the other hand, if a pixie had been born with my kind of power she would have been fierce, able to wield her own magic to a much higher degree.

  That’s what the sorcerers had wanted—to siphon off my power to enhance their own magic. But that wasn’t possible. A power transfer only worked in the short term, but it wasn’t something they could harness and keep.

  My wolf barked, interrupting my thoughts. She motioned to the wall and I ran my hands along it as my wolf pushed our senses out to find a weakness or some escape pod. The walls were sterile and smooth, kind of like marble, but more porous. The texture was warm and sticky, but once again, there was no residue.

  Not finding anything in the walls, I stepped back and glanced up at the ceiling, but only found more of the same.

  Tyler, can you hear me? I called out in my mind. Are you out there?

  Nothing.

  Our connection was still blessedly there, however. I could feel he was alive, but I wasn’t picking up on anything else from him. The demons had a way to stanch communication or they had put him to sleep somehow. They had no real reason to hurt him, since I was here, but that wasn’t saying much. I had no idea how he reacted once I went down.

  The Underworld was nothing like I’d imagined. Fire and brimstone would’ve been too clichéd, but office buildings, courtyards with gazebos, and demons wearing jumpsuits hadn’t been anywhere near my radar. It would’ve been nice if this place had been a little more predictable, because as I thought about escaping, I realized I had no idea how to do it or what I would encounter. It made it hard to prepare.

  I sat down in the middle of the room and wrapped my arms around my knees. We have to be thoughtful about this, I told my wolf. We’re probably being monitored right now. I peered into all the corners, trying to locate anyplace they could’ve mounted a camera, as one hand wandered to my chest to rub the small ache that still lingered. We should’ve been able to take on the Prince’s magic. I was having trouble letting it go. My wolf growled in agreement. We went down too quickly. And I wonder if Tyler tried to defend us? I’m sure he did and they better not have hurt him.

  I hated not knowing.

  There was no doubt in my mind Tyler had tried to protect me, but how much had they punished him for it? Before I could formulate a new plan, a ding sounding like a doorbell sounded and a voice rang out in passable English: “Prisoner, you will stand trial in three hours. You must prepare yourself.”

  Prepare myself? “And how am I supposed to do that?” I called. “Shouldn’t I be meeting with a lawyer?” Did they have demon lawyers in Hell? “Or see someone who is going to try my case?”

  No response.

  Instead a drawer slid open on the far wall.

  I jumped up and went over to investigate. Inside lay a single jumpsuit, neatly folded. I glanced around me, hands on my hips. “I’m not wearing that, so you can forget it,” I called. There was no way I was putting on something they could control me in. I still wore the witches’ hemp fatigues and they’d proven to be very durable and flexible—even after all the blood and guts, and subsequent water dump baths I’d taken.

  “You must wear the appropriate garments,” the voice stated in an even tone.

  “I’m not putting them on,” I insisted. “You can tell whoever’s in charge they can go to Hell.” Then I laughed a tiny bit maniacally because we were in Hell. How many times in your life can you say that while you’re actually standing in Hell? Never.

  Or almost never, in my case.

  Instead of my donning the required garments, my leg shot out and connected with the drawer, slamming it back in the wall so hard it cracked the facing. I began to bend over to investigate the damage when a blast of something shot straight into my chest. It was so strong it tossed me back against the far wall, knocking me silly and pinning me there.

  But what had hit me wasn’t magic.

  It was air.

  The fire hose of wind held me for a few moments, and then abruptly shut off. I dropped to my knees. Do you see where the air jets are coming from? I asked my wolf. She growled, but shook her head. “You’re going to try to take me down with air?” I shouted into the room. “I don’t think so!”

  I made a move to step forward and another blast shot into my abdomen. Before I knew what had happened I was plastered up against the wall once again.

  The pressure was intense.

  At this rate it would bore a hole through me. We need to stop it. I gritted my teeth. My wolf shot power through us and I managed to angle my hand in front of the brunt of the jet. I was in my Lycan form and as I cupped the air into my hands. Fighting it with all my strength, I managed to direct it away from my body. It took both my hands and all my strength.

  Using the power of straight-line winds, clocking in at easily a hundred miles per hour, was actually brilliant on the demons’ part. Air wasn’t magic. I couldn’t combat it with anything except pure force. I took a step forward, gnashing my teeth, my hands still shielding the blast away from me.

  This might be able to stop a lesser demon in its tracks, but not a pissed-off werewolf.

  Power tingled in my hand as my strength beat back the airflow. I continued to push forward, searching for where it was coming from. Let’s make it look like we’re struggling more, I told my wolf as I took another small step forward and staggered a bit. We need to find the source so we can destroy it, but we can’t move too quickly or they’ll amp up the flow. The room was obviously rigged with things, like drawers and air jets, so it wasn’t completely sealed, which was great news.

  I continued forward, making each step appear like a feat of mankind. My magic helped ward off the impact and damage to my body. The stream suddenly jumped a few more miles per hour and I was forced to take a step backward.

  They were testing me.

  Okay, new plan. We rush the jet and crack through the wall. Everything in here is seamless, so we need to act fast while the air is still flowing. My wolf agreed by sending a huge jolt of adrenaline washing through us. It jumped in my veins as I dashed forward, one hand and my chest pushing the air back with all my might, the other fisted above me, ready to pound the wall.

  I reached the source in a few seconds, ramming my fist into a place that appeared completely unmarred. The white wall exploded around me, revealing a rocky surface where three small air jets were embedded. How the air came through the wall was a complete mystery, but demon technology was crazy like that. The air jets immediately turned off and a bell pinged in the air.

  “Cease and desist, prisoner. You will don the proper attire and await your trial.”

  “Or what?” I shouted, moving quickly toward the drawer. It had to be set in the same rocky wall, and they had to be able to fill it from the other side. If I destroyed it completely, I might be able to crawl through. I smashed my foot into the broken face and the rest of the components flew apart, scattering through the small space like Tinkertoys across an icy expanse. I ripped the remaining p
ieces out and tossed them behind me as I squatted in front of it. The jumpsuit lay at the bottom and I bunched it up and threw it to the side. I crouched low, peering into the darkness of the small hole. I couldn’t tell where it led, but it was out of here and that was all that mattered. It wasn’t quite big enough for me to get through, but I could kick more of the stone out of the away to make it bigger.

  “Stop!” The intercom crackled.

  “Sorry, too late,” I called as I positioned myself on the floor in front of it to do some serious damage. “I’m not staying in here any longer than necessary, and I don’t see anyone here to stop me.” I brought my knees up and kicked one side of the hole. My feet encountered rock, but it broke easily, crumbling around me.

  A few more kicks and I would be free.

  I knew the demons would be on me as soon as they could, but I was prepared to keep fighting my way out. There weren’t any other options at this point.

  “If you do not stop, we will kill him.” This voice was harsh, not like the last one.

  I froze mid-kick.

  The ambient lights in the room flickered once. The space was backlit. I turned slowly as all the walls around me blinked twice and seamlessly into screens.

  “Tyler,” I yelled. “No!” I jumped up and raced to the nearest one and slapped the edges of my fists onto the picture in front of me, frustration I couldn’t reach him raging within me.

  No leeches this time. They were preparing to cut him up or do something equally appalling. He was out cold and strapped on a harsh-looking bed. There were huge implements lined up on a counter next to him.

  One of them looked like a sickle.

  “Fine!” I screamed, backing away from the wall. “I’ll do whatever you want. But you have to promise not to hurt him.”

  Another drawer opened up near the one I’d demolished, containing a new jumpsuit. I walked over and snatched it out. “I’ll put this on,” I seethed, turning in a full circle. “But you have to keep the live feed going so I know you’re not hurting him.”

  The screens flickered off.