Kára glanced over her shoulder at a fork in the halls, silently asking for my guidance. I took a gamble and pointed to our right—the quieter of the two. More howls echoed throughout the mansion, and I heard dragons roaring and blasting flames outside. Unfortunately, some of those roars also echoed, telling me some were also inside and on our trail. I briefly wondered what the hell they were blasting, but dismissed it since it wasn’t me.
“I stepped on her tail and the other one tackled me,” Kára muttered, rolling her shoulder where I had seen the fresh dent. “I gave them some jerky to calm them down, but that’s when I saw Callie down the hall. She didn’t see me, but she heard me. She has a blast first and ask questions later attitude that I don’t appreciate.”
I cursed. “You’re sure she didn’t see you?”
“Positive. I saw the back of her head and was already fleeing down an adjacent hallway before she turned. She didn’t even look before flinging power at me. There was some kind of explosion. Sounded like an armoire of china crashed to the ground and then she began blasting away at it with fire, shouting about a failed Gateway. Falco’s doing?” she asked.
“I sure as fuck hope so. Why didn’t you meet me?” I demanded.
“You looked busy,” she said in a suddenly stiff tone.
I frowned. “Wait. You saw me?” I asked, perplexed.
She nodded. “Spying on Othello and Death,” she mumbled. “Let’s just get out of here before your friends catch and decease us.”
Calvin and Makayla chose that moment to begin howling in response to their brethren, joining in on the song of their people. “Fucking werewolves!” I snapped, trying to clamp Calvin’s muzzle shut.
I heard an explosion of fabric from not far enough behind me, right as Kára darted down a new hallway to our right. “There he is!” Gunnar roared. “He has Calvin! I will fucking eat your heart, PETER!”
I almost tripped and fell in sheer terror, the bloodcurdling tone of his voice physically making my heart stop and my sphincter’s sphincter clam permanently shut. At least he hadn’t seen Kára.
Calvin yowled excitedly, wagging his tail at the sound of his father’s voice, enjoying the fun new game.
I risked a glance back and immediately regretted it. Gunnar was in full Wulfric mode—a colossal, seven-foot-tall mountain of white fur, claws, and wickedly long teeth.
I backpedaled, trying to see if there was anything I could direct Falco to do to save my fucking life from my best friend. I silently admitted that I was both the world’s best and worst Godfather.
Armoires exploded in my wake as the mansion began to scream. Couches, chairs, tables, and priceless vases flew across the hall, splintering and shattering as they bounced and cartwheeled into the werewolf’s path.
Gunnar tore through them all like a bulldozer, his lone eye blazing with electric fire as he lifted his hammer behind his head and hurled it at me.
The stone wall beside him exploded, peppering him with blocks the size of my head. They clipped his hand, body, and jaw, and he didn’t even fucking blink—even as his body was hammered down an adjacent hall. The smoking corridor behind me was blocked from floor to ceiling with ancient blocks of stone, but I didn’t notice that all too much.
Because Mjolnir was still screaming towards my face, unimpeded by the brutal beating Gunnar had suffered. A hand gripped me by the shoulder and yanked me out of harm’s way hard enough to send me sprawling on the floor, sending Calvin sliding along with me. I looked up to see Kára slide a very surprised Makayla my way before planting her feet and stabbing the air with her trident. Acting as a human shield for us, she took the force of Mjolnir—and she did it with one hand and a haunting, somewhat excited grin.
The two weapons collided with a dazzling explosion of blue electricity that sent a visible shockwave outwards, slamming me and the pups against the wall. Kára skidded into my lap, clutching a dented, damaged trident tipped with black soot. Mjolnir sat in the hallway at the epicenter of the blast, seemingly unaffected.
Wizard fire and werewolf claws tore through the rubble in the distance, and I heard monsters of all types congregating on the source of the mayhem.
Kára grunted. “Nailed it,” she wheezed dazedly.
As I stared at the rubble, I saw a bloody, white-furred claw break through and I gasped, scanning the walls for Falco’s escape route. “Come on,” I growled, clutching the pups and Kára as best I could. Calvin and Makayla licked at my face happily, wagging their tails at this insane new game of flee and destroy that their godfather was playing with them and their dad. “Give us a tunnel, Falco,” I begged.
Kára turned and wrapped us all in a clumsy hug, plopping her chin over my shoulder. “Where we’re going, we don’t need tunnels,” she whispered. “Consider this me picking you up for our date,” she said amidst the fire and explosions and screams.
I released the balled-up note in my fist. The extortion note for Gunnar’s pups.
The world winked out between one moment and the next.
49
Blistering heat made me squint my eyes on reflex, taking a few moments for them to adjust. I let out a breath of relief to see that I’d managed to release the extortion note in time, rather than taking it with us to this tropical hell-adise.
Calvin and Makayla barked excitedly, jerking free of my grip to go smell all the new things—which was pretty much ash and sulfur as far as I could tell. I still held Kára in my arms and I was suddenly squeezing her tightly, kissing the top of her head as I laughed triumphantly.
No one had gotten injured on either side; Kára hadn’t been forced to poke anyone and, if the pups’ excitement was any indication, our party was healthy and whole. Luckily, the pups hadn’t chosen to turn into mist during our flight or our plan would have been blown to shit.
True to my thoughts, Calvin and Makayla tackled us to the ground in an exhausted, jubilant pile, making me laugh even harder. Kára squirmed, twisting her body until her back was to my chest, freeing her hands for self-defense. Or so she thought. The pups struck like vipers, deftly dodging her hands to slither in and lick our faces happily, whining and yapping directly into our ear canals.
Thankfully, they saw through my illusion. It would have broken my heart had they shied away from my touch, fearing me as a stranger. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed them. How much I’d feared for them after leaving them to flee the mountains with Fenrir. They’d used some heavy, hardcore, still unexplained magic, and I’d been concerned about the fallout.
So, I let them have at my face, covering me in puppy slobber as I hugged Kára and tried to catch my breath. She gave up fighting and clutched my hands over her chest, squeezing them reassuringly to let me know she was okay after her lightning rod impersonation.
The pups lost interest in the lazy humans and hopped off us, pressing their noses to the ground and trotting away with boundless curiosity. I scooted back so that Kára’s head rested in my lap. “You sure you’re okay?” I asked. She had looked a little wild-eyed back at Falco.
She nodded slowly. “I took that like a champ, didn’t I?” she mumbled. “Saved you guys.”
I gently shook her, alarmed by the lethargic look in her eyes. “You better not die on me, Kára,” I growled, wondering if Mjolnir’s lightning had done some unseen damage. “Where does it hurt?” I demanded, ignoring the barking wolves.
“Die?” she murmured sleepily. “Been there, done that. Didn’t stick. I’m just exhausted.”
“You just deflected Mjolnir. I’m pretty sure that surviving is considered a win. It blew through at least two solid walls and I think a statue before you smacked it down.”
She smiled happily, her eyes seeming to refocus. “Let me go, you big oaf.”
“Nah,” I said, deciding to wait a while longer until I was confident she wasn’t slaphappy. She sighed in resignation, but it didn’t look like her heart was in it—more for show. I took my first real look around, frowning. I stared up at a brimstone sky and sh
uddered involuntarily. It felt like only a few hours ago that I’d been astral projecting in Charon’s boat.
We were on a rocky shore, facing an incline that extended to a canary-yellow boulder field in the near distance. A yellow and black mountain loomed over it—the source of the rockfalls.
I spotted Kára’s trident lying beside her. It was dented and damaged, covered in soot, and one of the prongs was bent at a harsh angle, but it still looked serviceable. I saw her staring at it with a sad frown, and I promptly decided it was now safe—and safer for me—to let her go. Kára slowly sat up and I scooted back, giving her space. She turned around to face me, smiling faintly as she swept some loose strands of hair from her eyes.
Her cheeks sported several gashes and abrasions, but her eyes looked more alert. “What happened back there? Before the gauntlet escape,” I clarified.
“I was looking through a hole in the wall when the wolves walked right up to it and began sniffing curiously. I didn’t want to risk them giving me away, so I slipped out of a door Falco provided for me. I looked both ways, saw the coast was clear, and the pups seemed excited to see me, so I seized the opportunity. When I turned around, the door was gone and I accidentally stepped on Makayla’s tail,” she admitted with a wince.
Makayla had obviously forgotten all about it. That’s a lovely thing about puppies.
The same could not be said about father wolves. Gunnar was going to destroy anything in his path to get the pups back.
I waved a hand at her concern. “You did the right thing. Just took me by surprise. I was watching Gunnar and Ashley when you must have stepped on her tail. They fled the room, looking hungry for murder.”
She nodded, scanning our surroundings. “Welcome to Hell. The rest of the date is on your shoulders,” she said. I instinctively tensed at her choice of words, wondering if Kára had overheard my talk with Pandora about shouldering burdens. Her face told me nothing. But it did remind me of something else she’d said. She’d caught me spying on Othello and Death.
“I heard Othello mention someone had been abducted in Kansas City, so it looks like Carl and Yahn succeeded,” I said.
Kára nodded woodenly. “Good.”
I debated saying anything else about Othello or Death, but I had the sneaking suspicion that nothing I could say would help me. Like an idiot, I pressed on. “Death is suspicious about Alaric coming back from the dead. He’s also meeting with Odin tomorrow night. Might have something to do with the rogue Valkyrie everyone’s talking about. How she met up with Quinn recently.” Kára’s face went slack. I lifted my palms reassuringly. “Relax. We’ve got more important things to worry about, and you’re not the only one with Quinn stories. It just caught me off guard, so I kept listening to them. I wanted to make sure they weren’t hunting you down.” She nodded, not offering up an answer. I’d also hoped that mentioning Death would give her a chance to bring up what I’d seen on the astral plane.
Kára reached for her trident and used it as a crutch to climb to her feet.
I sighed, following suit. So much for conversation. It was time for us to get to work anyway. I wanted to spend as little time here as possible. Kára assessed our surroundings with a growing frown, sweeping her gaze from left to right. I glanced over her shoulder to see that we were on the shore of the River Styx, the black water eerily still. I smiled crookedly. Well, talk about the perfect location. Kára stiffened, staring over my shoulder. “Fuck.”
I spun to see Calvin and Makayla about fifty yards away, and they were stalking…
Well, a dog much bigger than them that seemed to have just woken up from a nap, judging by the three massive yawns from its three massive heads. “Cerberus,” I breathed.
He was the size of a two-story building. On fire. With people jumping out the windows. Although I was certain that was just his aura. Each head bore a slightly different expression of frustration and confusion as they locked onto Calvin and Makayla dancing back and forth as they crept closer. They began to bark now that their prey was awake.
I felt a wave of panic roar through me. They were picking a fight with the biggest monster in the Underworld. Gunnar was going to kill me. This was the worst location, not the best.
Before I could debate the wisdom in shouting at them, my alarm quickly faded as I saw their tails start to wag. I let out a loud sigh of relief, my knees wobbling, as Cerberus mirrored them, wagging his tail and panting eagerly at the two relatively tiny wolves hassling him.
Kára stepped up beside me, shaking her head in wonder. “He never does that,” she breathed. Cerberus leaned down onto his front paws, sniffing at them curiously. They circled him warily, snuffling at the air.
And then they lunged forward and began nipping at his paws, hopping back when one of Cerberus’ three heads lunged to nip back. It sounded like bear traps snapping closed, but his bites were not even remotely close enough to harm the pups.
They, on the other hand, had no qualms about sinking their teeth into the infamous three-headed guard dog’s flesh. He reminded me of a pit breed, covered in slabs and slabs of muscle. His three sets of jaws were big and strong enough to crush boulders in a single chomp.
This was not a breed you brought home to your daughter. Unless you wanted her to take over the world with nail polish and violence.
Unfortunately, one of the heads caught sight of me and no longer looked as playful.
I waved at him with a nervous smile, reaching into my satchel in hopes that I had some jerky left. Thankfully, I found a bone instead. It looked suspiciously like a human femur, and I mentally cursed Carl on reflex for shoving secret bones into my magic satchel.
I reared back and hurled it at him, wincing as it hit the ground in a puff of sulfurous dust, causing the other two heads to sneeze violently. Calvin and Makayla suddenly erupted in frenzied barks, lunging for the bone and snapping their teeth at Cerberus. The massive dog lifted his three heads as high as possible, with bewildered looks on each. Calvin and Makayla stole the prize, each carrying an end between them as they trotted our way.
Cerberus watched them, cocking all three heads in a crestfallen reaction, seeming to wonder how the pups had dominated them so easily.
I let out a shaky sigh and turned to Kára. She settled the butt of her trident into the stony shore and nodded agreeably. “Well, that’s a first,” she admitted. She pointed at the wide river in front of us. “How’s that for front row parking?” she asked with a grin.
“Great job,” I said, keeping an eye on Cerberus in the event he changed his mind. “We should hurry. I don’t want my boss seeing me or he might rope me in for a long shift,” I muttered. I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Calvin, Makayla! Get over here!”
The two mist wolves picked up their pace, pretty much declaring this the best day of their lives if their tails were any sort of barometer. They dropped the femur at my feet proudly, as if I hadn’t ever seen it before. I smiled, crouching down to ruffle Calvin’s head. “Good job, guys. He’s terrified. Your parents will be so proud.” I scooped up the bone, hoping I hadn’t known the poor bastard or anything, and rose to my feet before either wolf could nab it from me. Calvin and Makayla promptly sat, quivering with anticipation.
I glanced from left to right, making sure we were alone. There was always the chance of a wandering spirit or monster guard. Hell, some of those Candy Skulls were usually lurking.
Kára noticed my concern and waved a hand. “Most denizens of the Underworld avoid Valkyries like the plague. We’re about as safe from spirits as we could possibly be.”
I grimaced. “I’m more worried about management.” But I saw no one. The River Styx stretched out before us, wide and calm like a lake. In the distance, tributaries of fire and liquid ice merged into one hellish stew of steam and raging waterfalls, but this spot was relatively calm. We were almost in a private cove of sorts, with rock walls blocking us off from anyone further downstream.
I murmured a prayer, hoping that this would appease Gunnar�
��s fury.
Then I tossed the leg bone into the River Styx.
The mist wolves tore down the beach after it and leapt into the river without an iota of concern. Their bodies struck the black water and disappeared. I gasped in alarm as a bright light abruptly flashed throughout the Underworld, followed by twin thumps that felt like a giant living in the apartment below us had just banged his broom against the ceiling, yelling at us to pipe down. The wolves bobbed up to the surface, paddling for all they were worth as they raced for the femur. I remained tense, waiting for an alarm, but nothing happened.
I turned to see Cerberus watching us curiously, but he was panting unconcernedly, not looking the least bit alarmed at the flash of light or the pounding sound. I turned to Kára, grinning hesitantly. “We did it—”
Her smile slipped as she glanced over my shoulder, staring off into the distance, not at the pups. She really needed to stop looking over my shoulder. I spun to see an ancient, definitely not seaworthy, canoe drifting around the corner. Charon, the Boatman, lazily paddled our way, drinking a beer with one hand and managing an oar in the other. Well, claws, not hands.
And by drinking, I meant taking a beer shower, pouring it on his face.
Worse, he had a passenger.
A forty-something looking woman with long, auburn colored hair sat on a bright green cushion at the rear of the boat. She had massive sunglasses covering half her face, and a silk parasol was wedged into the rotted wood of the canoe to give her some shade.
Shade from what, I had no idea. There was no sunlight here, of course.
She wore a toga—a bad sign, in my opinion—and she was taking healthy gulps from a frozen daiquiri or margarita. Judging by her exaggerated movements and loud singing—which I hadn’t noticed over the splashing of the mist wolves—she was absolutely smashed.
“Kára, get the pups. We need to skedaddle.”
Carnage: Nate Temple Series Book 14 Page 32
