“Why am I here, Caspian?”
He scoffed, breathing heavily as he took a step forward, getting closer. I feared he’d hear my heart suddenly beating faster, so I cleared my throat, as if hoping it would cover the frantic thuds in my chest.
“What the hell were you thinking up there?” he hissed. “Blackmailing me? Really? You’re asking me to send fifty of my Maras to die with you in the Valley of Screams!”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get Fiona back.” I held my chin up, firm and unyielding. I had every intention of making sure we came out of this alive and in one piece. Having a dragon on our side greatly increased our chances. However, even though we could leave the scorching daemons part to Blaze, we needed manpower to cover all angles. The Exiled Maras were trained to guard and attack, and had better knowledge of those gorges. It wasn’t a light decision to make by any means, but we needed Caspian’s people with us for backup. Fiona’s life was worth it—we’d come here to help them, and, had they been more forthcoming about those damn tunnels and the prison in the first place, we wouldn’t be in this mess.
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? My Correction Officers will most likely die protecting your stubborn asses! I’m sorry about your friend, but why don’t you be a smart vampire and cut your losses? Leave Neraka now, before you all get killed in those gorges. There’s no point in dragging my people down with you.”
“You need to get something through your thick head, because I obviously haven’t made myself clear enough,” I shot back, my blood boiling. I poked him in the chest with my index finger—a habit I seemed to have developed when arguing with Caspian. “I will stop at nothing to get Fiona back. I need your Correction Officers for backup while I turn those gorges upside down and wash them in dragon fire! I will kill every daemon I come across until I find Fiona and get her back safe! You either help me, or I tell your fellow Lords that you were the one who helped us in the Valley of Screams. Your choice! Either way, we are going down there tonight. And I genuinely feel sorry for anyone standing in our way. Blaze is really fired up tonight, and I can’t wait to watch him burn it all down!”
Caspian stared at me, his gaze softening for a split second, before the jade in his eyes turned stone cold again and he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Clearly, there’s no way for me to talk sense into you,” he said bitterly. “You don’t understand what these creatures are capable of. You’ll die there, Miss Hellswan.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged, then gave him a wink. “But I’m not that easy to kill. If anything, you could tell me more about the daemons and your involvement in this whole mess, so I can at least do a better job of keeping your Correction Officers alive down there.”
“Trust me, Miss Hellswan, you don’t want to know.”
I couldn’t help but like the way my name sounded rolling off his tongue, despite the dark context.
Get a grip!
“Actually, I obviously do, but if you refuse to share more, we’ll have to make do,” I replied. “We’re going to get Fiona back. If you won’t tell me more, at least help me.”
“I’ll help you get torn to shreds, sure.” He shook his head, then pulled out a handful of disc-shaped medallions from his waistcoat pocket. “Put your hand out.”
I did as he asked, and he placed the metallic discs in my palm. They were small but sturdy, complete with thin chains. I stared at them, counting ten medallions.
“What are these?” I asked.
“There’s one for each GASP member, including Fiona. Provided, of course, that you find her alive,” Caspian replied. “They’re made of meranium, both pendant and chain. The daemons won’t be able to stay close to you for too long. It won’t stop them from trying to kill you, but there’s enough meranium in these things to keep them from consuming your souls.”
“So you knew about the soul-eating part.” I glowered at him. “Damn it, Caspian, you could’ve said something earlier, if you really wanted to help!”
“Who said I want to help?” His question cut through me, and a possible truth started to sink in.
“Then why did you help us? Back in the Valley of Screams… and tonight, as well. And now, with these pendants. If you don’t want to help, why are you helping us? It doesn’t make sense.”
Every second I spent near him dazed me further, to the point where I had trouble using basic logic. But everything Caspian had done so far had been contradictory. On one hand, he wanted us off the planet. On the other, he’d swooped in, and gotten himself injured in the process, just to help us fight off the daemons. With no clear understanding of his intentions, I was at a loss.
I stared at him, wishing so much that I could read his emotions, see ribbons of color coming out of him, so I could understand what he was thinking. He lowered his head, inching closer to my face. I craned my neck back a little to maintain eye contact. My stomach tightened.
“I wish I had an answer to that, Miss Hellswan, but I don’t,” he replied, his tone softer despite his marble expression.
“Well… thanks for these,” I mumbled, and looked down at the pendants, unable to hold his gaze without feeling my blood rush through my limbs in waves of hot and cold.
“Don’t thank me,” he said, his gaze darkening. “I’m only trying to give you all a quick death. Dying from soul consumption is something I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy, and it’s something I’m trying to stop from happening to my people, which is why I’m compelled to kindly ask you again that you keep my identity secret. No one in this city can know what I did for you.”
“Well, according to you, we’re off to our deaths, anyway, so I wouldn’t worry too much about me telling on you,” I replied. “But if we do make it back alive, I will have questions for you. Lots of them.”
He gave me a weak smile, and my heart skipped a beat. He looked… genuinely sad for a second.
“I’m sure you will,” he whispered, and I could swear I caught a hint of grief in his faded voice. “Goodbye, Miss Hellswan.”
He moved past me, his shoulder brushing against mine as he climbed up the ladder and pushed the trapdoor open. I followed quietly, feeling a chill sneak into my ribcage and clutch my heart. Its grip was tight and icy, and it was an emotion I’d rarely had the misfortune to experience. It was dread, and it came from the way in which Caspian had said goodbye. It sounded final.
I watched as he closed the trapdoor behind us and walked away down the street, vanishing around a corner without even bothering to cast me one last glance.
I slipped one of the pendants around my neck, hiding it beneath my leather suit, then shoved the others in my pocket. I had to get these back to my team, and I had to explain how I got them, and what they did, without any Exiled Maras overhearing us.
“I’ll need a piece of paper,” I muttered, shoving any last thoughts of Caspian aside and heading back to the infirmary.
Fiona
(Daughter of Benedict & Yelena)
My head hurt, like dozens of hammers were pummeling my brain from different angles. I heard water dripping somewhere nearby, and it echoed around me. Other than that, all was silent. I groaned, then peeled my eyes open. They adjusted slowly to the dim light. I reached out, and my hand found a succession of iron bars.
Where am I?
Memories of the previous hours crashed into me. The small beach. The tunnel. The prison and its gates opening and closing. The daemons coming to feed on the inmates’ souls.
I was taken…
I gasped and instantly sat up, dread washing over me in icy waves as I briefly analyzed my surroundings. I was in a cage made entirely out of solid black iron. Said cage was inside a large grotto, its walls pale pink, with a myriad of crystal formations overhead. Orange flames flickered from a fire on the stone floor, and the light shimmered against the crystals, summoning shades of pink, amethyst, and yellow to spread through the cave.
There was a small pond not far from the fire. It had been carved into the floor—whether by hand or
by nature, I wasn’t sure, but its water was a beautiful sapphire blue, and steam rolled out of it. It was some kind of thermal water, with bubbles occasionally rising up. Despite my grim circumstances, I couldn’t help but marvel at the natural beauty around me.
The air rippled subtly in the corner to my left, and I froze, my nerves stretching and my muscles turning into hard stone as I realized the daemon that had taken me was still here with me. I remembered being held tight, unable to break free despite my supernatural strength, as the daemon carried me out onto the plain. Then yellow dust had been blown in my face and everything had gone dark.
It drugged me…
It was more sophisticated than I’d initially thought. It used powders to stun its victims. It held its prey in cages hidden deep inside the gorges.
It consumed souls.
This was no ordinary hostile, and I couldn’t even see what it looked like. My heart thumped loudly. I understood that my only chance of survival was to get myself out of the cage. I pulled on the bars and felt the metal slowly give, creaking under my grip.
My pulse raced as the air rippled closer. A puff of red dust blew in my face. I fell back, landing on my elbows, wheezing and coughing. My arms and legs tingled while I struggled to sit back up, but I was suddenly too weak, as if my muscles had turned to jelly. I managed to pull myself to one side of the cage, still facing the invisible daemon, and lean against the bars.
“What did you do to me?” I asked, not sure I’d get an answer.
My entire body was ridiculously relaxed, and I didn’t have the strength to pull those iron bars apart anymore. Whatever that red powder was, it had done a number on my muscles and significantly reduced my strength.
“Who are you? What are you? Why am I here?”
It didn’t respond, but I could sense it standing close to my cage. I caught glimpses of its glowing red eyes as it leaned forward, staring at me. I felt its hot breath on my face, but I did my best to stay calm. If it wanted me dead, all it had to do was pull me out of the cage.
I remembered the knives I’d hidden in my boots before going out to the eastern mountain wall. I patted my hips and couldn’t find my swords, or even my belt with its many useful satchels. I then reached down to my boot, feeling for the knife handle, but there was nothing there. I held my breath, realizing that the creature had completely disarmed me.
My blood clotted in thick ice clusters as I watched one of my knives lift off the floor in front of me and into the air, wielded by the invisible daemon. It was holding it by the tip of its blade, showing it to me. The knife then fell to the ground with a sharp clang, next to my other weapons and my belt, and I suddenly felt anger animating my blood vessels and jumpstarting my heart. The daemon was mocking me.
“Aw, good for you, you got my weapons,” I sneered. “My teammates are on their way to get me. They’ll turn these gorges upside down. They’ll burn you alive, and you won’t stand a chance, invisible or otherwise!”
It huffed at me, but I wasn’t sure whether it was out of amusement or contempt. Nevertheless, it was a reaction. Which meant that it understood me.
“You daemons really don’t know what you’re getting yourselves into,” I continued. “You should’ve stayed in these gorges, but you got greedy, and you won’t like what’s coming next. In case you didn’t notice it back in the prison, we have a freakin’ dragon!”
I didn’t get a reaction this time, but I caught movement as the daemon seemed to leave the cave through a small tunnel twenty feet to my left. I looked around, trying to analyze every detail and see if there was anything in the grotto that I could use to set myself free. There was nothing within my reach, just a bunch of furs piled up by the fire, and my weapons and belt too far for me to reach.
I’m not getting eaten in this place…
A squeal outside caught my attention.
I need to find a way out.
The sound of an animal being dragged inside made me still. I watched as the invisible daemon brought in a dead creature resembling a wild boar. My hands instinctively covered my mouth as it peeled the skin off the boar, slicing chunks of flesh off and swallowing them whole. I then watched it take one piece of meat and hold it over the fire for a couple of minutes, enough to roast it a little.
I slid to the back of my cage as it brought the piece of meat close, slipping it between the iron bars and dropping it in my lap. I’d been under the impression that my cage was big enough to stay out of reach, but clearly its arm was longer than I’d imagined… assuming it did have arms. I was speechless.
Is it… Is it trying to… feed me?
“Is this for me?” I mumbled, holding the chunk of meat between my thumb and index finger. I looked in the daemon’s red eyes before they vanished for a second, then reappeared. I took a deep breath and thought of ways to get myself out of there, one way or another. Perhaps befriending the fiend might work. “I’m sorry, but I don’t eat meat. I don’t eat anything. I only drink blood.”
I put the meat down on the ground and watched as it was removed from my cage and tossed into the fire. I had a feeling it didn’t eat cooked meat, only raw flesh. I moved closer to the bars, enough to feel its hot breath touching my face again.
“I’m not a Mara, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I said, and its eyes flickered a peculiar bright red before disappearing again. I couldn’t wrap my head around how its invisibility worked. “I’m a vampire. Not from around here. I have fangs and pale skin, and I drink blood and don’t do sunlight, just like the Maras. In a broad sense, we belong to the same subset of species. But I’m different. I was made a vampire, rather than born one.”
It stood there for a while, in silence. I tried to listen in on its breathing or heartbeat, but it didn’t give anything away. It sniffed me; then I felt its touch on my cheek. I was unable to move as its skin met mine. Warmth spread through my face, lighting my temples on fire before the daemon pulled away and rushed back outside.
I heard another squeal a minute or two later and found myself gaping as it dragged in another wild boar—this one very much alive and kicking, squealing and struggling to escape the daemon’s hold.
Tough luck, buddy. I tried that too… Didn’t work out too well for me.
The daemon slit the animal’s throat, and I yelped, then covered my mouth with one hand. This creature was taking me on an emotional rollercoaster ride, and I had a hard time keeping up. It pushed the dead boar’s head between the iron bars, enough for its open wound to gush into my cage. The blood poured in a thin, steady stream.
It hit me then what the daemon wanted me to do. And I didn’t think I could say no, not unless I wanted to piss it off.
I needed my captor calm and pleased, and I hadn’t drunk any blood since early morning, so I cupped my hands beneath the boar’s open throat and drank a pint’s worth of blood. The daemon then tossed the animal aside, while I swallowed the last of my unexpected meal. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, then took a deep breath. The creature stood before me, its red eyes drilling into me.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “That was very kind of you.”
It got closer again, prompting me to hold my breath. I felt its fingers—I guessed—on my cheek, gently sliding down and over my lower lip. I noticed the blood droplet it collected, then watched it disappear into what had to be its mouth, since it was briefly followed by a short suckling sound. My stomach tightened, and I didn’t know how to react, but my cheeks were quite adept at catching fire in the creature’s presence. That made me uncomfortable.
“You are one demented weirdo, you know that?” I said, forgetting to dial back the sass. After all, he’d only just fed me. “You should really let me go before my team finds us here. You’ll have a chance to survive. It’s the best I can do, given the circumstances—let me out now, and I won’t bring them here. I will keep them away. I promise.”
I heard it snicker then—a low, guttural growl, actually, that sounded both amused and insulted. It huffed onc
e more, then darted over to the pond and jumped in with a messy splash. Water spilled over the sharp edges as it dove deeper. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
A dark figure appeared beneath the turquoise water. It then emerged in all its visible glory, and my chest burned, my mind expanded, and my lungs stopped functioning altogether.
It was a “he”.
A massive, stunning man, much taller than Heron or Jax, probably by at least two heads. His shoulders were broad, his hips beautifully sculpted, their curved lines disappearing beneath a chainmail loincloth hung loosely from a thin leather belt. Horns emerged from the back of his head and grew forward, pointed and smooth. His hair was long, a rich black that fell down his back, and his eyes were glowing red. His face was a sculptural masterpiece with a stern jaw, high cheekbones, and a straight nose.
My heart started racing as I suddenly remembered that I needed it to work in order to breathe and continue gaping at the now-visible daemon. Ropes of muscle covered every inch of his body, big enough to make him look menacing, but toned and sculpted to maybe honor ancient Greek statues of athletes. His skin was a deep shade of tan, luscious and wet, and droplets of water rolled down his shoulders and abs.
He sauntered back to my cage with a smirk that made me blink several times.
He was nothing like what I’d expected.
Black tattoos covered his chest and arms, sequences of geometric symbols and perfectly circular swirls beaten into his skin. I guessed they had to mean something. Aside from the humans on Earth, who mostly got tattoos just for aesthetic purposes, all the other creatures I’d met marked their skin for specific reasons—social status, tribal indication, or mystical abilities. I wondered what the daemon’s tattoos signified.
He drew closer, his face now inches from mine, yet I remained rooted to the spot, unable to back away. He looked at me intently, giving me enough time to study his eyes. They were a deep ruby red with a thin black border and flakes of gold, shadowed by long eyelashes and elegant brows.
A Hunt of Fiends Page 3
