Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy) (21 page)

“You should rest.” Sam’s strong hand on my shoulder steadied me. “You’re not immortal, you know.”

“Who wants to live forever?” I smirked. “Besides, there’s no time for rest. Maxim is here somewhere and I doubt he missed all of that commotion.”

“Reinforcements?” Sam raised a single brow.

“Not a bad idea.” I strode to one of the fallen dems and tugged my sword free. A pang of regret at the loss of its twin seared me and I wished I’d gone batshit crazy a little sooner. We left the bodies there, making a tactical retreat so I could call in some help and take five minutes to breathe air that didn’t make me want to fight or fuck.

Once outside the mine once more, I put in a call to Papa Al. I ignored his grumbles, growls and snarls, and told him to round up the papas and the pack. He could ground me later for running off half-cocked without a solid plan. We couldn’t afford to wait for them to show up, but at least the cavalry was on its way.

Jezze returned before we headed into the mine. “Humans are safe. Knocked ‘em out and they’ll be fine once they sleep off the drugs.”

I nodded, rubbing some blood off my face. “Then let’s do this.”

The three of us headed back into the mine, the dark stain that shouldn’t exist in the middle of a watery world and the source of all this trouble. I was aching, exhausted, and horny, but I was ready for another brawl. I just hoped we’d be able to handle whatever else Silaran had to throw at us.

W
e climbed
down a deep shaft into one of the lower levels. Battery-powered lanterns hung from the walls, and boxes of food and supplies were stacked in a few areas. It looked like someone was settling in long term. As if a doomsday prepper had taken up residence. We moved past most of the supplies without giving them a second glance, but I paused when I came across a pallet of water bottles. I pulled one out of its package and looked at the label.

The same brand that’d poisoned Bry.

“Looks like Maxim has been shipping everything from here.” I tossed the bottle onto the stack and then sent a blaze of hellfire into the entire pallet. FYI, water really can burn under the right circumstances. I watched the plastic melt and sizzle, bits of steam and stench filling the air. I brushed off my hands. “Time to put this fucker out of business.”

Then I heard the howls. Long and low, loud and eerie. Familiar.

I raised my sword, peering deeper into the tunnel ahead. The flickering lanterns only lit small sections, leaving the rest draped in shadows. And I sensed something ahead, moving among those shadows. Moving our way.

Dark figures rushed out of the darkness and I braced my legs, sword thrust forward, ready for anything.

At least, I thought so.

A dozen dark-furred hounds burst from the blackness, flames licking their maws. They were bigger than any dog or wolf known to the tween, and their bodies were packed with thick, bulging muscles beneath their fur. Their claws dug deep gouges into the stone floor and their howls echoed off the walls like the wails of a banshee.

“Hellhounds,” I muttered. They normally guarded the circles of Hell against intruders. Apparently someone had decided to breed a pack for their own personal use.

I jammed my blade forward into the first hound that pounced, letting its own momentum drive the blade deeply into its flesh. A spurt of hot, steaming blood burst forth and the dog let out a yelp like a kicked puppy just before it dropped to the ground.

I yanked my sword free and swung at another, trying to take off its head. It closed its jaws around the blade, yanking on the metal as if it was a bone. I kicked the beast in the head, trying to pull my weapon free, but it held on with stubborn determination. In a swift motion, I yanked a dagger from my belt and stabbed it deeply into the hound’s eye. It staggered back, releasing my sword, and I brought it around, slicing into the hellhound’s neck. It took two swings to penetrate its thick, fleshy hide before its head tumbled off its body and rolled across the ground.

“Bite my sword now, asshole.” I spat on the ground, ridding myself of hellhound blood.

Jezze was juggling four hounds at once, taking all of her power to keep them at bay. A wall of shimmering green protected her, but she couldn’t spare the energy to fire a blast at them without lowering the barrier. I leapt to her rescue, swinging my blade in an unholy fury. I hacked into the beasts’ bodies, cutting deep gouges into their flesh. Several turned their attention on me, snapping their jaws. I deflected them with quick parries, twisting in one direction and then the other to keep them back.

My distraction gave Jezze enough time to cast her spell. A thick, crackling bolt of green lightning shot forward, blazing through several of the hounds. It burned and boiled their flesh, leaving nothing but charred husks on the ground.

Sam wrestled with a hound, holding its jaws back with bare hands as it tried to close its teeth around his neck. He was pinned against the wall, beast overpowering him, and I rushed forward. I stabbed my blade into the creature’s back, severing its spine. It dropped to the ground in a lifeless hump and I opened my mouth to smile when Sam swung a fist at me. Or just past my head, pummeling another beast I hadn’t seen. He beat it with his fists until the animal’s skull caved in, and the hound fell beside one of its friends—equally dead.

The rest pounced on us in a rush. I was knocked onto my back by one, my sword tumbling from my hand. Sam and Jezze held off another pair, leaving me on my own. The hellhound’s jaws snapped at my face, eager to sink into my flesh. I grabbed it by its throat and pushed, keeping it just out of reach.

Then it inhaled. Inhaled and the flames that wreathed its mouth gathered and grew large. It unleashed a burst of flame like dragon’s breath, spitting the fire at me. I barely pushed it to the side to avoid being burned. The flames melted a hole in the ground next to my head.

“Fucking mutt,” I growled. I squeezed tighter on its throat as it tried again. I cut off its breath, digging my fingers as tightly against its jugular as I could. It wheezed and choked, body writhing and bucking to get free.

When it tried to squirm away, I was finally able to flip out from underneath it and find some good leverage. I leapt onto its back, wrapping my forearm around its throat to keep its airway cut off. I pummeled it in the head with my free hand.

“Almost.”
Punch.
“Burned.”
Punch.
“My.”
Punch, punch.
“Hair.”
Punch, punch, punch.

Within a few moments, its body lost its strength, going limp beneath me. I grabbed its giant head with both hands and gave it a massive twist, snapping its neck. Another hellhound on the ground. Dead.

I pushed to my feet, gasping for air. Jezze and Sam leaned against the wall, dead hounds at their feet.

I grabbed my sword from the ground and plucked my dagger from the dead hound’s eye. I wiped both clean on the hellhound’s fur, before the blood could corrode the blade. The blood of some creatures from Hell could be acidic, and it was best to clean it off as soon as possible.

“Everyone good?”

They both nodded and I mirrored their action. We were all good—for now. We moved forward, pace slowing as exhaustion crept closer. Maxim had been smart to leave so many guardians protecting his lair. Even if we managed to fight our way past all of them, it was sapping our strength. I could only hope that by the time we found him, we’d have enough left to take him down.

W
e moved deeper
and deeper into the unnatural tunnels, following the flow of demonic magics that teased my senses. The lure grew stronger and stronger with each step, and a tendril of worry slunk through my blood. How powerful was our foe? I’d dealt with dark magics, but this felt… different—a whole other league.

The darkness was speared by a low glow, the light increasing as we approached. We moved past aged walls, others holding the fresh shades of newly exposed earth. Crystals jutted from the walls, glowing with a bright, pulsating light.

Jezze touched one of the crystals and snatched her hand back with a hiss. “They didn’t just choose this place because it’s isolated.” She glanced around the tunnel. “These crystals have been treated with blood. Ritual sacrifice.”

“Meaning?” Meaning my mother was right and I should have paid more attention to her teachings.

“It means they’re serving as an amplifier.” Jezebeth looked up the tunnel and then back the way we’d come. “We know this isn’t a natural cave and I don’t think the current residents are the original creators. These stones are old. Anything cast down here will be greatly enhanced and this is the kind of dark magic you only see from a witch or warlock with serious power.”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t Silaran who was behind the times. Someone still should have updated the place.

With a sigh, I hefted my one remaining sword. “Lovely. ‘Cause that’s just what we need.”

The blood magic called to me, shouting louder and louder with every step. It thrummed in my veins, tempting the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. Those parts connected to my mother’s side. The pieces I always struggled to keep under control.

I gritted my teeth and forged ahead, pushing the dark thoughts and urges aside. If only it was that easy. I was already running on an adrenaline high, wolf more than ready to come back out to play and give in to my murderous thoughts. But I had to keep myself in check.

I threw my mind back to Bryony, sick and waiting for me back at Momma R’s house. The little guy needed his mom, even if I wasn’t his flesh and blood. He needed me to keep my head. To stay in touch with the human part of me that loved him more than life. I teetered on the edge of giving in to my demonic side, but I’d gotten it under control earlier. I knew I could do it again.

I glanced at Sam, noting his trembling and tenseness. His fallen, dark heart was no doubt feeding him the same urges. The blood magic would be coursing through him, nudging him toward darkness, trying to force him back down the path of damnation. He kept his jaw set and trudged forward.

I didn’t know how much goodness and purity remained in him, but I hoped it’d be enough to keep him from sliding back into the dark. He’d been doing so well and I hated to think he’d fall back under the sway of darkness.

Once again, for me. On my behalf. Because… because I was his as much as he was mine and that’s what couples did. They made sacrifices.

Sam had made more than most for me. I didn’t want him to make another.

The tunnel opened into a wider cavern and I scanned the dimness for others. Piles of rubble crowded the edges of the room, the center carved out to make space for dark rituals conducted within. Dozens of circles had been dug into the floor, all painted with… I tilted my head back and scented the air, confirming my suspicions. The wolf told me they were painted with blood. Human. The portals were active but idle. Dark, swirling energies floated above them, the evil shadows waiting to jump into motion. I knew more demons could pass through them at any moment.

I tapped the flat of my blade with my fingertip, sending a jolt of hellfire through the honed metal before we began our stride across the space. I slashed my pulsating blade through the pentagrams, deactivating them in an instant. I destroyed the runes, making sure dems couldn’t come up at us from behind. The task slowed us, but we were worn out enough without allowing the enemy to bring in reinforcements. We had to make sure our escape route remained clear.

Not that I planned on running. I was pushing forward until the end, until the entire place came down.

A long line of circles spread across the far end of the room, natural stone pillars shielding them. My hellfire leapt to attention and did my bidding. I swept my blade in a wide arch, heat shooting from the tip and melting through the stone. The crashing rubble obliterated the circles. The demonic energy from the gates faded away into nothingness and the bloodied crystals of the caves drawing the magic in. When the falling rocks and dust cleared, allowing us to see into the cavern beyond, we found ourselves face to face with a horde of zombies.

“Oh, lovely.” I raised my sword. “More bad guys.”

And if the blood of dems and hellhounds smelled bad, zombie bits were even more disgusting. Next year, I was gonna develop a perfume just for tweens that could cover up any stench. Because this shit was rank.

Jezze raised her hands, calling on her magic, and illuminated the cavern with an emerald light. Sam braced himself for the coming fight, his own sword at the ready, a twist of metal and hellfire he’d created from practically nothing.
There’s always something hanging around that evil can pervert to its needs
.

Fallen Angel Sam needed a sword. Fallen Angel Sam filled with Hell’s power made a sword.

Still, his words haunted me. I saw his glowing red eyes, the hate lurking just behind those orbs, but I couldn’t see him as evil. He was just… Sam.

We stood in a single line as we faced down the mob—dozens, perhaps hundreds—thirsty for our blood. And just before they charged us, rotted flesh hanging limply from exposed bones, I noticed something that sent chills through my marrow. Each of them had dark, arcane runes etched into their cheeks and foreheads. Every. Single. One.

Blood magic. These poor souls had been lured and then used as ritual sacrifices. I’d seen this magic before, and it was some of the darkest of the dark. Sacrificing someone in that manner channeled their soul wherever the mage desired, cutting them off from whatever afterlife they’d earned. It was a way for demons, or the dark warlocks who worked for them, to take good, pure souls, and send them to Hell. People who hadn’t even earned damnation would be pulled down into eternal hellfire and torment instead of going to On High like they deserved.

With so many souls to feast upon, Silaran must have grown stronger than we had ever imagined.

The bodies of those poor souls, nothing more than empty shells animated by dark magic, rushed at us in a flood of rage. They were faster than the everyday zombie, their bodies enhanced by this place and the warlock’s magic. These weren’t the green-eyed sentient guys of last year, but they were damned close.

Wave after wave came at us, my vision blurred by the zombie flesh coating me, my sword cutting one in half before I turned to another. I sent waves of hellfire rocketing through the cave, keeping sight of Sam and Jezze so I didn’t burn them with the heat of my fury. Sam tore apart zombie after zombie, fighting with all his strength. His sword flashed in one hand, burning through another zombie’s neck before he cut a second in half at the waist. Jezze sent bolts of sizzling magical energy through them, lighting up the zombies with the bright green light just before they fell to the ground into a mound of ash.

They kept coming, they kept pushing and pushing, shoving us backward as we sought to fight at a safe distance. But there were too many and we were already worn out from the other battles. Scarred and injured, exhausted and desperate for rest.

No rest for the wicked, right?

We fell back. No, that sounds like it was a choice. We were pushed back, harder and harder by the advancing mass, until we reached the tunnel leading from the cavern. The narrow tunnel served as a natural bottleneck, keeping the zombies from surrounding and overpowering us. We held them there, dropping one corpse after another, but the flow never slowed. It was an unending stream of the undead, thirsting for our blood and death, controlled by their dark magical master.

My strength wasn’t going to last. The ground was littered with severed arms, eviscerated guts, and chunks of decaying, putrid flesh. The stone and sand was soaked in blood. The air filled with the sounds of our battle cries and moans of the zombie horde.

My arms were about to fall off, the weight of my swinging sword and dagger dragging on me.

Then the howls came—loud and long. And what I’d been hoping for. I heard the pounding steps before they even came into sight, the ground seeming to tremble with the large, approaching mass.

“Against the walls!” I shouted above the sounds, yanking Jezze back beside me while Sam flattened against the opposite. We jumped back just as the howls of Papa Al and the pack filled the tunnel.

They charged past us, wolf after wolf in their shifted forms, and tore through the zombies in a wave of fur and fangs. Undead flesh was ripped from bone, the pack tearing into the cavern. My own wolf stirred, itching to shift and run with the pack, but I held it back. I couldn’t let my feral side out again. I needed to keep my head.

So I leapt into the fray with Jezze and Sam, sword and blade back at work.

Papa Al pushed through the line, howling and snapping his jaws. He was larger than the other wolves, formidable in his own right and even larger than me if he lost himself to the wolf. I’d been wrong earlier. I wasn’t what movies were based on—he was.

He yanked down another zombie and stomped on its head, claws digging into the neck, and a flick of his leg beheaded the monster. He looked at me, releasing a short bark, and I caught his eye, knowing his message without words.

The wolves would hold the line.

I nodded and waved to Jezze and Sam. “Let’s go. They’ll hold the zombies!”

We fought our way to the edges of the battling mass, angling for the exit, cutting down enemies as we passed. We darted into the tunnel, catching a few more stray zombies here and there that we cut down with ease. We edged around one corner, then another, then the tunnel narrowed and…

Chanting. Dark. Pulsating. Rhythmic.

The kind of chanting that touched that deep place in my heart. Dark magic. Blackest of the black. Tempting. Alluring.

I recalled my fathers, the peace they’d taught me and the joy to be found in life. My unicorn father, my pixie dad, my fierce warrior, my indestructible wolf, and Father Earth who loved all living things. The darkness in my soul wanted to destroy everything that breathed, but those five had me pushing back against those needs.

I slowed my pace, advancing cautiously with my blade raised in front of me. My palms were sweaty and slick, muscles aching and screaming for relief. Some of my wounds had closed, at least enough that I wasn’t going to bleed to death, but I was still hurting. I took deep breaths to steady myself, calming my heart before I sped toward another round of violence and mayhem.

I looked to Sam, silently asking him if he was prepared for this. He could read my gaze as easily as I read his, both of us prepared to do this for the good of all—and together.

I did the same with Jezze and while Sam’s stare had been serious and firm, Jezze’s was overjoyed and excited.

Was all of this death-defying and potentially fatal? Of course. But I usually never let Jezze get in on the good, bloody stuff. I had no doubt that she figured she could drag a carcass or two home for the gators herself. I couldn’t tell her no if she did her own killing.

I nodded to my friend, confirming her readiness and… that she could keep her kills.

Those two at my side, I marched forward into the chamber.

Another cavern opened before us, a massive ritual circle etched into the ground in the center. On the far side stood a man in black robes, his hands held high, changing and channeling dark magics. Several bound and gagged humans lay in the center, bleeding from the dark runes carved into their faces and chests. I rushed forward to save them, but it was too late.

Too late.

Black lighting shot from the robed man’s palms and into the pour souls lying in the circle. They writhed in pain, eyes widening for a spare moment before the convulsions stopped and they laid limp.

Lifeless.

Too late.

That dark figure threw back his cliché hood with a cackle, telling me what I already knew. “You’re too late. My dark lord will soon be here, and with the power I’ve channeled, he will be unstoppable.”

I gritted my teeth and raised my blade. “Not on my watch, Maxim. Not sure if anyone told you, but this is my fucking town.”

And it’d stay mine.

He laughed and raised his hands, pulling energy from the dead bodies before him. The energy coalesced into ethereal humanoid forms. Dark phantoms made from the souls of the dead. For a moment, I expected him to channel their souls to Silaran. Instead, he sent them our way, smoky maws spread widely with silent screams and powered by the unholy magic he channeled.

I sliced my blade through one, but the steel cut through its incorporeal form—doing no damage. The phantom grabbed me, black claws digging into my skin and tearing into my soul. It seared the hidden part of me, scorching it, poking and stabbing it with those invisible fingers. I screamed in agony, struggling to pull the creature off. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jezze and Sam struggling against the phantoms as well, but there was nothing I could do. Not while I fought to keep my own soul from being ripped out of my body.

What would my soul do for Silaran?

I channeled hellfire through my hands, battling to burn the spirit away, but it had no effect. There was nothing to burn, no body to cut and tear. I’d never fought a ghost. I had no idea how to defeat it. I knew the right kind of magic or mystical force with the help of On High could defeat a creature like this, but I was sorta lacking in that area.

My mind raced, trying to think of a power that I might use to defeat my attacker. My werewolf blood did nothing—fur and fangs couldn’t hurt a ghost. Nor could the powers from Papa Eron, Father Earth. He had dominion over plants and animals, but this was neither. My pesky pixie and unicorn blood were no use either.