Darkness Hunts

Chapter 7

Wood and dust rained around us as the blackness swallowed us whole. There was no light, no stirring of air, no sound except the harsh rasp of our breathing.

After what seemed an eternity, I hit the dirt feetfirst and stumbled forward a couple of steps before falling on my face. Pain shot up my legs, then raged through the rest of me, until even the mere act of breathing hurt.

Jak landed with a grunt and slightly more balance, ending up on his knees rather than his face—a fact I knew simply because the sharp rasp of his breathing was close but not ground-close.

For several seconds neither of us moved. My breath was caught somewhere in the middle of my throat, and tension wound through my limbs as I waited for the axe to fall.

Nothing happened.

“You okay?” Jak asked eventually. Dirt stirred, and then his hand caught mine. I gripped it gratefully.

“Yeah. You?”

He helped me to a sitting position. “Winded, but okay. Can’t see a goddamn thing, though.”

“No.” I dusted my hands, then reached back and drew Amaya from her shadowy sheath. Flames flared along her blade and spread across the darkness in lilac waves.

“And where the fuck did that come from?” Jak asked.

“Long story.”

My gaze swept our cage. The pit was about ten feet square, and smelled of earth and age. I squinted up. Even if I stood on Jak’s shoulders and jumped, I wouldn’t be able to catch the edge and haul myself out. And I doubted I’d be able to take my energy form. If the magic in this place prevented Azriel from entering, it was a fair bet it would also prevent me from changing into Aedh.

It was also a wonder both of us had come through the fall relatively unscathed. But then, I guess werewolf bones were stronger than human ones, even in those of us who couldn’t actually shape-shift.

But our going through the floor was no accident—the concrete slab had been neatly cut, as had the timber that ha Vh semace="Pad covered this hole. It had held only long enough to catch the two of us.

“It can’t be a traditional sword,” he murmured, and reached out.

“Don’t—” I said at the same time that Amaya hissed and spat tendrils of fire at his fingertips.

He quickly withdrew. “Shit, that thing is alive.”

“Alive and aware.”

His gaze jumped to mine. “How the hell is something like that even possible?”

“It’s not—not in this world, anyway. She was born on the gray fields—forged in the death of a demon—and she has a life and a mind of her own.”

“So you control her?”

I half smiled. “Only sometimes.”

“You, my dear Risa, are becoming more and more interesting.”

I snorted softly and pushed to my feet. “Remember Ilianna’s threat.”

“Oh, trust me, I am.” He rose with a wince and rubbed his left knee. “How the hell are we going to get out of here?”

“I don’t know.” I used Amaya’s flames to inspect the walls more closely. The earth looked hard-packed and solid. I didn’t fancy our chances of digging ourselves out.

But I didn’t fancy waiting around for the creator of this pit to arrive, either.

Not, Amaya said.

I frowned. Not what?

Solid. Not.

My gaze swept the walls again. They look it.

Not. Left go.

I walked to the wall on my immediate left. Amaya flared, sparking brightly off the quartz in the dirt. I don’t see—

Magic. Touch.

I carefully extended the tip of her blade and touched the wall. Only she didn’t hit it. She went through it.

The wall was fake.

I reached out and ran my hand across it. Grit and rock brushed my fingertips. I pressed harder. The wall resisted briefly, then, with a slight sucking sound, my hand went through. Cold damp air caressed my fingertips.

I withdrew, then repeated the procedure a few feet on either side. Real wall, not magic-enhanced wall. The doorway was a foot or so wide. Enough for a human to squeeze out sideways.

Or a hellhound to get in.

I swallowed heavily and looked around at Jak. “There’s a concealed exit here.”

“To where?”

“Do you care?”

“Yes. But I don’t fancy staying here, either.” [e, Do you c

“Keep your knife handy.” I went through sword first. It felt like I was walking through molasses—the magic creating the illusion was thick and syrupy, and clung like tendrils to my body, resisting my movements and then releasing me with an odd sucking sound. I shuddered, my skin crawling with horror. Whatever—whoever—had made that wall was not into white magic.

I forced my hand back through the wall. Jak’s fingers entwined with mine, and he came through as I had—shuddering.

“God, that’s revolting,” he muttered, shaking himself like a dog trying to rid his coat of excess water. “Where are we?”

“I have no idea.”

I raised Amaya again. We were in a tunnel of some kind, and it was a tight fit—there was only an inch or two between my shoulders and the walls. Jak was forced not only to stand sideways but to keep his knees bent as well.

It wouldn’t be a good place to be caught in. There was no room to fight.

I looked to the left, then the right, but couldn’t see much in either direction—just the tunnel sweeping away into darkness. But as my gaze moved back to the left, the odd sense of unease increased. Something was down there. Something bad.

I shivered, then glanced up at Jak. “Does your nose tell you anything?”

“Can’t smell much more than age and dirt.” He hesitated, then glanced past me to the right. “It smells a bit fresher down that direction, though.”

It did? I studied the lilac-lit shadows dubiously, then glanced to the left again. There wasn’t a chance I was heading down there, so that left only Jak’s choice.

With Amaya’s fire lighting the way, we crept forward. The tunnel continued to narrow, until the bits of rock and debris in the soil were tearing into my shoulders and the scent of blood stung the air.

If there were hellhounds ahead, it would call to them.

I swallowed heavily and tightened my grip on Amaya. Her hissing ramped up, and I didn’t know whether she was reacting to something I’d yet to see, or merely echoing my tension. I hoped it was the latter, but I had a horrible suspicion it was the former.

At least I was better off than Jak—even as awkwardly bent over as he was, he kept hitting his head against the roof.

“Fuck,” he said eventually, “I really think we need to turn back.”

“No. There’s something down the other end of this tunnel—” I yelped as a particularly sharp rock sliced into my arm.

“At this rate,” he muttered, “we’ll bleed to death before we ever reach an exit.”

“I think I’d rather bleed than chance whatever is at the other end.”

“It can’t be any worse—”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

The words were barely out of my mouth when I burst out of the tunn [t on it.el like a cork being popped from a champagne bottle. I stumbled to gain my balance and took a quick look around, once again using Amaya for illumination. No hellhounds, nothing that appeared immediately dangerous—just two innocuous-looking stones that stood like petrified soldiers in the middle of a cavern. Which didn’t mean we were out of trouble, but wherever the hell we were, it had to be better than the tunnel. Jak all but exploded out of it three seconds later and came to a halt beside me.

“Fuck me!” he said vehemently. He swept the sweaty strands of hair from his forehead with hands as bloody as mine and looked around. “Where are we?”

“I have no idea. And not in a million years.”

“I’ll remind you of those words the next time we make out—” Jak stopped, and his eyes widened. “What the hell are those?”

“I don’t know.”

It was somewhat absently said as I studied the two pillars. They were about six feet tall and stood the width of a body apart from each other, so that they formed an odd sort of doorway that seemed to go nowhere. Though they were mostly gray in color, their surface was littered with quartz that Amaya’s flames sparked to life, sending rainbow-colored flurries skating across the earthen walls. There were markings and weird symbols etched into each pillar, but it was no language I’d ever seen, and it felt ancient. No, not just ancient—powerful.

I stepped forward cautiously. Energy caressed my skin, similar to the magic I’d felt briefly when I touched the door handle. I swept Amaya’s light across the floor. While it was mainly dirt, there was a series of wide, flat stones that formed a circle around the pillars. While there was no quartz within these stones for Amaya’s flames to catch, there was writing. This time I recognized the language, even if I didn’t entirely understand the spell. They were runes, meaning the stones were some sort of protection circle.

“You think it’s a gateway of some kind?” Jak said.

“Of some kind.” I walked around the pillars, making sure to keep close to the walls and well away from the runes. “Be careful where you step, Jak.”

“I may be a skeptic when it comes to many things magic, but even I can sense the wrongness in whatever is written on those stones.”

And that’s precisely what it was. A wrongness. The magic in this place wasn’t dark, it wasn’t evil—it was just wrong.

Like the man without a face, I thought absently, though it was doubtful they were in any way connected.

Each rune in the circle was a little bit different from its neighbor, except at the north and south points, where a set of six identical ones appeared. Exit and entry points, perhaps?

I stopped when I reached the tunnel entrance again and studied the walls themselves. There appeared to be another exit to the left, but on closer inspection, it proved to be little more than a niche. Whoever had built this place obviously used it for storage, because it was filled with an odd assortment of things—including a shovel, a crowbar, a hammer, and various-sized jars of nails. The sort of stuff you’d need if you wanted to repair a floor or bury a [oorowb body.

I shivered, and hoped like hell we got out of this damn hole long before we had to worry about either of those things.

“Now what?” Jak crossed his arms and stared at the pillars thoughtfully. “Do we attempt to breach the magic?”

“Nope, we use our ‘ring a friend’ option.” I dug the phone out of my pocket, hit the vid-button, then called Ilianna.

“You found something?” she said by way of hello.

“Yeah. I need you to tell me what it is. Hang on and I’ll show you.” I turned the phone around and did a slow sweep of the cavern.

“Fuck,” she said. “That’s some heavy-duty magic they have happening there.”

“But what sort of magic?”

“I have no idea what the script on the pillars is, but it’s obviously some form of gateway.”

“To heaven, hell, or somewhere in between?”

“I’d guess in between, if that’s where earth falls in that little list.”

I supposed that was something. At the very least, it meant we didn’t have the immediate worry of hellhounds making a sudden appearance. I walked around to the north point. “Does this signify an exit or entrance?”

“The pattern the stones are placed in suggest exit. The entrance should be the other side.”

“How can identical rocks form a pattern?” I walked around to the other side.

“They’re not identical to the trained eye.”

I shoved the phone down so she could see the stones, and she added, “Yep, that’s it.”

“And is there anything in these runes that would stop Jak and me leaving via this gate?”

“Other than the fact that it would be sheer stupidity, you mean?”

I grinned. “Yeah, other than that.”

“Um, Ris—” Jak said.

I made a “quiet” motion with my hand as Ilianna said, “I honestly don’t know.” She hesitated. “The runes shouldn’t offer a problem, but as I said, I can’t read the script on the pillars so I really have no idea just what might happen or even how to activate them.”

“Ris—” Jak intervened again.

“What?” I said, looking up in exasperation.

He waved a hand at the pillars. Light shimmered between them, as if it were a mirror catching the first sickly rays of the day.

“Oh, fuck,” I said. “The pillars just activated.”

“Then get the hell out of there!”

“Love to, but we’re stuck underground in a fucking cavern. Call you back.”

“Wait—”

I didn’t. I turned the phone off and met Jak’s gaze grimly.

“I can’t go back into that tunnel,” he said. “It’s too tight for any sort of speed. Niche?”

“Niche,” I agreed. “And let’s hope whoever—or whatever—is coming through that gate has neither good sight nor a strong sense of smell.”

“Amen to that,” Jak muttered, and lunged for the niche.

I squeezed in beside him, and watched as light continued to pulse and swirl between the pillars. Its color was a sickly green—the same color that now glowed within the runes. Amaya screamed, a battle cry that was audible both in my head and in the cavern.

Fuck, flame out and be quiet, I ordered fiercely.

No. Fight what comes.

Not yet. Flame out, Amaya.

Should fight. It was all but a snarl, but her light died. I wished I could say the same about her fierce screaming, but at least it was only inside my head.

The sickly light of the pillars spread tendrils across the darkness, lifting the shadows in some sections of the cavern but casting others into deeper darkness. Our niche fell between the two. Whatever was coming through that gateway had only to glance our way and we were gone.

Then, suddenly, the light stopped pulsing and a shadow stepped through. It was a man—a tall man, with broad shoulders and dark hair. As he strode toward the exit, the light between the pillars died, leaving only the sickly glow of the runes to lift the sudden darkness. It wasn’t enough, and the stranger became little more than a shadow, hinted at but not fully fleshed out.

He paused at the north point of the circle and waved his hand over them. The light in the six runes died and he strode toward the tunnel, quickly disappearing. Oddly enough, though he’d appeared taller than Jak when he’d first come into view, I had no sense that he was in any way restricted by the tight confines of the tunnel. Maybe it was just the weird light that had made him seem taller.

As the sounds of his steps faded, Jak bent closer, his breath warm against my left ear as he murmured, “Now what?”

“We wait.”

“But if he came through those pillars, why can’t we use them to exit?”

“Because he’ll sense the magic kicking in and will either give chase or send something after us.”

“Either option is better than getting caught in this damn niche.”

“Not when we have no idea if the pillars are both exit and entry. For all I know, the exit point here is nothing more than a ruse. It could be what I sensed down at the other end of the tunnel.”

“But Ilianna said—”

“That she didn’t understand the entire spell. It won’t hurt to wait, Jak.”

“It ju [Stdderst might if that man comes back and sees us,” he muttered. “Just because I have a knife doesn’t mean I can use it.”

“Then it’s a good thing I can use the sword, isn’t it?” I all but snapped.

“Yeah, I guess it is.” His free hand slipped down my back and came to rest on my butt. “You have no idea how exciting I find that.”

Actually I did, given how close we were standing. But then, he was a werewolf, and danger was an aphrodisiac to most wolves, even if they didn’t actively seek it out. I grabbed his hand and shoved it away. “Behave.”

He chuckled softly, but otherwise did as bid. I flared my nostrils and sifted through surrounding scents, trying to get some idea of the man who’d come through the gate. But no matter how hard I tried, I could neither smell nor hear him. Maybe there was an exit at the other end of the tunnel. Maybe he’d done little more than check what his trap had caught and then moved on-

A gruff voice cut the thought short. “Look, I’m telling you, there’s no one here.”

It was hard to tell just how close he was because his words seemed to echo in the still blackness. One thing was sure—his voice was unfamiliar, and that was something of a relief. I’d half expected otherwise—that it would, somehow, be Lucian. Azriel’s distrust had a lot to answer for.

“Well, apparently vermin can set the trap off,” the stranger said. Despite the hint of exasperation, there was a deeper edge of wariness enriching his voice. He feared the person he spoke to. “As I said, there’s no one in the hole.”

He was definitely closer now, and tension wound through my limbs. I licked my lips, and once again tightened my grip on Amaya. Her screaming ratcheted up several notches, but at least she was restrained enough to keep it internal—although that didn’t help the ache in my head any.

“Yes, I’ve released them.” The stranger paused. “Yes, I’ll head up now and move any cars that might be hanging about, just in case.”

“Damn,” Jak muttered. “If he damages—”

I stamped on his foot, hard. He hissed, but otherwise fell silent.

The stranger reappeared. He made a motion with his left hand, and the sickly glow reappeared in the runes. It wasn’t strong enough to light the niche, but it did throw off just enough to make him a little more visible. He was about my height, with thick shoulders, muscular arms, and tree-trunk legs. He reminded me somewhat of a wrestler, but he was extraordinarily light on his feet. He passed close by our niche, but didn’t see or smell us—he was human, not shifter or were, and for that I was suddenly grateful.

But as he passed, I noted the tats on his shoulders—one of a dragon with two swords crossed above it and the other a ring of barbed wire.

I’d seen both a number of times over the last few months. The dragon and swords meant he was a Razan, and while I wasn’t sure what the barbed wire tat represented, I’d seen it on the man who’d arranged the delivery of the Dušan that now resided on my left arm, as well as on one of the men who’d killed Logan’s secretary. How the two were connected I [ conowhad no idea, because while we suspected that my father was responsible for the Dušan, there was no logical connection between him and the murder of Logan and his secretary. In fact, we were pretty sure the person responsible for those was the man who’d been impersonating Nadler.

Which meant we really needed to question this man.

The stranger strode on, the light in the six runes dying as he approached. As it did, the pillars came to life again.

It was now or never.

I motioned Jak to stay put, then carefully squeezed out of the niche and padded silently forward, flipping Amaya around to hold her by the blade rather than the hilt as I did so. I suspected—given her generally shitty mood—that if I used her blade she might take matters into her own hand and kill our quarry rather than just knock him out.

I raised the sword, but he suddenly dropped and turned, and Amaya whooshed harmlessly over his head. He surged upright, but I spun and kicked him hard in the gut. He flew backward, hit the wall with a loud crack, and slithered to the floor. I flipped Amaya, holding her hilt once more, but the Razan didn’t get up. After another moment or two, I stepped forward and pressed two fingers against his neck. His pulse was steady and strong, so I hadn’t done much more than knock him out.

“Now what do we do with him?” Jak came out of the niche and stopped beside me.

“We find out who he is and who he was talking to.”

I knelt beside the Razan and went through his pockets. I found the phone and tossed that to Jak, then continued the search until I found his wallet.

“According to his license,” I said, “his name is Henry Mack, and he lives in Broadmeadows.”

Jak grunted. “The phone is locked. Any ideas?”

My gaze went to his birth date on his license. It was a long shot, but a lot of people used such things for passwords. “Try one-four-oh-four.”

He did so, then shook his head.

“Reverse it.”

He pressed the appropriate buttons. “Nope.”

I gave him the year; then, when that also proved a bust, glanced at our last hope—the post code—and said, “Three-oh-four-seven, either way.”

“Bingo to the latter.”

I placed his license on the stone near his hand, then pulled out the other cards. There were four credit cards—two in the name of Henry Mack, and two in the name of Jason Marks—a transit card, and various receipts from shops. Mainly for clothes and grocery items, although interestingly, there was a small receipt from a place called Esoteric Supplies, which I knew from Ilianna was one of the main suppliers of wiccan items in Melbourne.

There was little else in the wallet except cash, so I placed the remaining cards on the stone, took a photo of both them and our stranger, and shot both off to Stane with a quick note to see what he could uncover.

“Well,” said Jak, [” to St “he’s only got a couple of numbers in his address book, and his last call came from a blocked number. I don’t suppose we can take the risk and call it back?”

“And let whoever is behind this know we have his Razan? Not a good idea.”

Jak flicked through other screens. “They’re going to know something went on, anyway. I mean, you knocked him out.”

“True.” I hesitated, awareness suddenly prickling across my senses.

And suddenly remembered the Razan’s last words. Yes, I’ve released them.

I spun around. The stones’ circle was complete again, and its fading glow did little to light the immediate darkness. The pillars had fallen completely silent. There was no escape that way—not unless we could get the gate open again.

A low growl reverberated around the darkness, raising the hackles along the back of my neck.

“What the hell was that?” Jak’s voice was filled with trepidation as he studied the tunnel behind us.

“That”—I grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the northern end of the stones—“is a hellhound. We need to get out of here—fast!”

We reached the northern entrance and stopped. The runes didn’t react to our presence. They just continued to glow that same sickly color.

“Now what?” Jak’s voice was grim and there was fear in his eyes.

“I don’t know.”

I remembered the gesture the Razan had made when he’d reentered the cavern, and repeated it as best I could. Nothing happened. The runes continued to glow ominously.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

The air began to stir, became a thick scent of malevolence. They were coming.

I grabbed one of the bottles from Ilianna’s satchel and popped the cork. It flew toward the still-glowing runes but never made it across them. There was a sharp report, a flash of fire, and the cork was little more than cinders falling harmlessly to the stone floor.

That would be us if we weren’t very careful.

The smell of death, decay, and ash began to fill the air. I licked dry lips and looked around wildly. There was no decent place to stand and fight. Our best bet was to try to keep them in the tunnel.

And the only way to do that was to use the holy water as some sort of barrier.

But I’d barely taken two steps when evil flowed into the room. The creatures were big, bigger than the ones I’d seen previously, their large heads held low and their red eyes glowing brightly in the shadowed darkness. Thick yellow teeth gleamed eerily as the pair of them snarled. The sound echoed like a death knell.

I flung the water at them.

It flew across the air like a silver ribbon, hitting the first one on the snout and splashing across the coat of the other, sizzling and bubbling where it struck.

The first hound twisted and howled as its face began to disintegrate. Flesh dropped from its cheeks in chunks, until all that was left was bone. Soon that began to crack and shatter, until nothing remained of that half of its face.

But it didn’t die. It was disfigured, but still very much alive.

It would be just my luck to get a stronger breed of hellhound this time around.

And then I remembered that Azriel had killed the hounds with his sword when they’d been distracted by the burning water.

I had no choice but to do this the hard way.

I switched Amaya to one hand and carefully reached for more holy water. Her kill, kill, kill chant was fierce and rapid, matching the pounding of my heart.

“Jak?” My voice was little more than a murmur, as I had no idea just what would set these creatures into motion. Right now, they didn’t seem to be doing anything more than watching us, but I doubted that would last. I suspected that once we moved, they would.

“What?”

Though I could smell the fear on him—as he could no doubt smell it on me—his voice was amazingly steady. But then, I guess he’d seen more than his fair share of dangerous beings in his years as an investigative reporter.

Just not this dangerous.

“Use the holy water to form a wide half circle around yourself, then press back against the wall.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Kill them.”

“Ris, if the holy water works as a barrier, why don’t we both just wait behind it?”

I carefully opened the bottle. The cork hit the dirt near my feet and bounced a little before settling. The hounds’ eyes gleamed a fiercer red in the darkness, and tension rippled across their sleek black hides. They were getting ready to pounce.

“Hellhounds have one design function, and that’s to kill. Holy water might work as a short-term deterrent, but it’s not strong enough to provide long-term protection.”

“It only has to last long enough for us to ring for help. Your uncle—”

“Will not get here in time. No one can. Hellhounds aren’t stupid, and they’re not going to wait around while we ring for help.”

“Oh.”

“Use the knife if a hound decides to ignore the holy water and attempts to get at you.” God, how did that come out so calmly when my stomach was twisted into knots and my hands were shaking? “And good luck.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

We were both going to need it. I took a deep breath and gripped Amaya tightly. Her desire to kill was so fierce it was almost blanketing, and suddenly not only was she in my head, but I was in hers. In the steel, at one with her.

I didn’t question it. I just threw the second bottle of holy water and followed it up fast. The creatures split, one flowing to the left of the runes and the other to the right. The silver ribbon of deadly water flew harmlessly between them, hit the wall, and dribbled down to the floor stones.

Shit, I thought, and swung Amaya. Her steel was little more than a blur as she cut through the air. The hound snarled in response—an action made grotesque by the fact he had only half a face—and slashed with a viciously barbed paw. Claw and steel crashed together, the sound reverberating across a darkness that was no longer so silent. One of the creature’s claws hit the top of my hand, slicing skin even as Amaya’s flames leapt from steel to flesh and burned with fierce joy.

I jumped back and swung Amaya again. Blood sprayed across the ruined remains of the hound’s face, and the gleam in its eyes grew stronger. It ducked the blow, then leapt. I had no time to move and took the full brunt of its weight, staggering backward but somehow avoiding the snapping, slashing teeth. One of its claws hooked into my right shoulder, and a scream tore up my throat. I flung Amaya over its head, then caught her with my free hand and brought her down on the creature’s spine. The force of the blow reverberated up my arm, but it did little more than cut the hound’s flesh. She didn’t sever muscle or bone, as I’d hoped she would.

Will, she screamed. Time need!

And that was the one thing we didn’t have a whole lot of.

I clawed at the creature’s remaining eye. It snarled and shook its head, its breath fetid, washing my skin with the smell of death. The movement dislodged its claw from my shoulder and I fell backward with a grunt of pain. Energy washed across my spine and I realized with horror that I was near the runes. Then air stirred, and the scent of malevolence grew stronger. The hound was in the air, coming straight at me.

I became one with Amaya again—felt the fierceness of her spirit rush through me. We leapt to one side. One foot skimmed the edge of a rune and sent a warning ripple of sickly green light across the darkness. We raised the sword, brought her down hard. Hit the creature’s spine even as it hit the runes. The runes didn’t react, didn’t flare, didn’t cinder.

It didn’t matter.

This time, the combined strength of both Amaya and me drove the sword, and it burned and flamed swiftly through the hellhound’s flesh, cutting through skin and bone with the ease of butter.

The hound screamed as it flopped to the floor, but it still had movement. It dug its claws into the stone and dragged itself around, snapping at my legs with its remaining teeth. I leapt back—separated from Amaya’s spirit once again—then swung the satchel around, dragged out another bottle of holy water, and poured it over the creature from head to foot. The rancid smell of burning flesh filled the air as the creature twisted and howled in fury and pain. I raised Amaya again and brought her down—point first—with as much force as I could muster. This time she didn’t sever, she consumed. Purple flames erupted, swept swiftly across the hound’s hissing, disintegrating flesh, until there was no skin, no bone, no sound, just purple fire and the wretched smell of death. Then, with a sharp report, the flames and the hound were gone, and Amaya suddenly felt heavier in my hand.

Which didn’t mean she was in any way satisfied.

I swung around. Jak had created a protective ring using the water, but it wasn’t as secure as we’d hoped. It stopped the bulk of the creature, but it hadn’t stopped the creature’s slashing attacks with wicked-looking claws.

I spun and ran around the runes, coming up on the hellhound from behind. It sensed me—it was always going to, as I was making little effort to sneak and Amaya was screaming her heart out—and twisted and leapt in one smooth motion. I threw myself forward, turning as I fell, coming up under the creature as it flew above me. Amaya’s screaming was at fever pitch—wanting, needing bloodshed—so I gave it to her. I drove her blade into the creature’s belly and ripped her along its length. Blood and gore splattered across my face, stinking to high heaven and stinging like acid. These creatures may not be truly flesh, but god, when their innards spewed it damn well felt real.

“Jak, you okay?” I scrambled to my feet, Jak’s circle at my back and Amaya held out in front of me like a baton.

“No worse off than you—watch out!”

It wasn’t a warning I needed. The creature had barely hit the stone when it was in the air again. I threw the last bottle of holy water, but the hound somehow twisted, and the water hit trailing innards, not flesh. I swung the blade, slicing across the creature’s snout, then twisted out of its reach. It had barely smacked down on the stones when it leapt again. But as it did, Amaya and I once again became one. All her fury, all her energy and her vicious need to kill became mine, and I screamed as she screamed. Together, we severed the creature’s head clean from its neck even as it managed a last, desperate slash with its claws. I sucked in my gut, felt clothing and skin part, but little else, still held by the fury that was Amaya. As the hellhound hit the stone in separate parts, her fire leapt from the blade and covered both. In very little time, there was nothing left but ash.

I lowered Amaya’s point to the stone and leaned against her, suddenly weak with relief. We’d done it. Somehow, we’d beaten them.

All we had to do now was get out of here.

Jak’s hand slid around my waist as he leaned next to me. “You okay?”

I took a deep, somewhat quivery breath, and released it slowly. “Yeah. You?”

“Scratched, bleeding, and fucking glad to be alive.”

I smiled, as he no doubt intended, then straightened and stepped away from his touch. “I don’t think we can get out via these gates. I think we need to go back through the tunnel.”

“Then we’ll have to leave our prisoner. It’ll be next to impossible to drag him through it.”

I grimaced. “But we can’t afford to leave him. The last thing we want is him reporting back to his masters. At least if we get him upstairs, Azriel can alter—”

I stopped as once again awareness swept over me.

Someone else was in the tunnel, and they were coming our way.