by Holly Evans
Viktor spat but refused to look me in the eye; the other two looked over to Quin who had his arms crossed.
I strode over to them. "No. Do not look at him for guidance. I am the one talking here, you answer to me."
Matyas squared up to me, but quickly backed down.
"We will help you,” Dimitri said.
Viktor growled something in Czech behind me; I ignored him. The other two relaxed a little. It was over.
I looked back to Lysander who was growling at Viktor. "Hound. What do we have here?"
He flinched at my tone and calling him hound, but I couldn't afford to look weak of front of the hunters. He walked over to the blood stained ground behind me.
Quin followed him and pointed at a roughly drawn symbol with a bloody finger bone next to it. "This means sun, doesn't it?" He pointed to the symbol on the far side of the circle opposite it. "And that's darkness?"
Lysander stopped dead and looked at him. "How do you know that? Only those with infernal blood can read this language naturally. Evelyn didn't tell me you'd studied this language..."
Quin shrugged. "It just makes sense in my mind."
I stepped up next to Quin. I couldn't allow that conversation to continue, it started too many questions.
"What does this ritual and mess mean?"
Lysander pulled himself up a little taller and said, “He tried to attempt the first ritual last night, but being the brainless pup that he is, he fucked it up. The symbol there," he pointed at Quin's feet, "is wrong. He also lost control of himself and ate the sacrifice rather than finishing the delicate ritual."
He gestured at small shards of bone and what appeared to be a lump of intestines that sat in the hollow at the base of a tree. “This is a mess, it did nothing more than kill a woman."
I breathed a small sigh of relief; one life lost was better than I'd anticipated.
The hunters grumbled behind me, but I ignored them. We needed to push Kadrix and get the tracker so that we could stop any more innocent lives from being lost. We'd got lucky that time, but there was no doubting that the hound would try again soon. Quin and Lysander exchanged looks while Quin tried to subtly gesture at various markings on the ground. The blood mingled with the earth, forming sharp markings that surrounded the circle. Small parts of the woman remained scattered about the circle, not enough to identify it as a human, let alone who.
I looked pointedly at the hunters. "Clear this mess up before the humans stumble across it."
Viktor glared at me. I clenched my fists, but he looked away. They were close on useless; I was regretting my promise to Quin to try and deal with more people.
A sliver of guilt formed in my stomach as I said, "Hound, come."
The rough tone and blunt manner didn't sit right in my mouth. He had already become more than a beast to me, and I hated it. Yet there was nothing to be done about it, and appearances had to be maintained either way. Lysander came and stood at my side as I gave the bloody mess one last look. I hoped that the woman had died quickly. Her life had come to nothing. I bowed my head a little and asked the moon goddess to watch over her spirit in the beyond. It was becoming more natural to lean on the goddess. A maelstrom started forming in my mind as we made our way back to the road at a quick pace. Everything was changing, and I had no control over it; it was unpleasant. The sensation of losing who I was, of no longer being myself, invaded my thoughts. There were too many questions, too much chaos. I needed some peace and order. I needed to kill the other hound.
Lysander kept fidgeting and shifting his weight. I ground my teeth and glared at him; he was drawing attention to himself. Quin wasn't helping things. His sombre expression weighed on me. He was such a happy soul; it was rare not to see a smile on his face. I hated the idea of something weighing on him. The people parted for us without word or argument when we got off the tram; our mood was clearly written all over us. Not a word had been said. None of us dared mention what we'd witnessed in public. The questions bubbled up in my mind, but the one that wouldn't let go was how on Earth Quin could read those infernal symbols. It took years, or more likely decades to be able to read that language with any proficiency, and it was limited to only the most committed witches and necromancers, although I had no doubt that a few fae had learnt it as well.
A collective sigh of relief left us when we stepped into the passageway down to Kadrix's lab. We were free to speak freely. Quin forged ahead and went straight to Kadrix, his shoulders tighter than usual and his gait more stilted. I vowed to help him, to remove the weight that he carried. I'd sworn to protect him. Lysander's hand brushed over my lower back, drawing me from my dark thoughts. I subconsciously stepped sideways away from him. Part of me craved contact with him, but I wasn't going to let it win any time soon.
I cut Quin off before he could start a recounting of what had happened. “How is the tracker?"
Kadrix tore his eyes from Quin, his hand stopped in mid-air between him and Quin's cheek.
The elf pursed his lips and glared at me. “It will be done by sunset."
His voice was icy cold, but I shrugged it off.
“Did you know that Quin can read the infernal language?" I demanded.
I couldn't afford to ignore the fact there were likely things the elf knew about my twin that I didn't.
His eyes flickered to Quin as his lips pursed and he looked away. “I did not."
Quin made a soft growling noise and dragged his fingers through his hair. I needed to take control of the situation.
Kadrix sniffed and said, “His alchemy has come on leaps and bounds since the ritual as well. It seems you've both gained a little something... infernal."
His eyes lingered on Lysander who bared his teeth at him.
My heart felt heavy; Quin couldn't have been tainted. We'd been so careful, what did it all mean? Kadrix's grin was wicked.
“Only those with demon blood can bond to a hound, or read that language,” he said with some glee.
“Your books are clearly missing some key information, elf. Our parents were both human hunters," I snapped back.
His attention returned to Quin, he brushed his thumb over Quin's cheekbone, a gesture that I couldn't help but feel a little jealous over.
I tore my eyes away and said quietly to Lysander, “I'm sorry for my manner, in the park. It had to be done."
The corner of the hound's mouth twitched with a smile that I felt in the back of my mind.
“When you're quite finished examining Quin, we need that tracker. One woman has already lost her life to the hound,” I snarled at Kadrix, but refused to meet his eye.
“Evie!" Quin said.
The shock and shame in his voice made me look away from him and shove my hands into my pockets. I muttered an apology and found a space to sit, I didn’t have anywhere better to be. Lysander sat on the floor next to me, his head near my thigh.
After a long moment filled with clanking and elvish swearing, Lysander said softly, “It's not his fault."
I sighed heavily. “No, it's mine, I failed him."
He laughed quietly, a rumbling sound just under his breath. “The elf makes him happy, how is that a failure?"
I glared at him. “You heard Kadrix, only those with demon blood can speak the infernal language."
The hound refused to yield to my dark look. “I'd say you've done quite well from your demon blood."
A smirk crept across his lips. I couldn't help but smile, and I hated myself for it. Quin had relaxed some and was talking animatedly in hushed tones with Kadrix while they both gestured. The elf was wrong about the demon blood. Our parents had been dedicated hunters, they'd taught us everything we knew. They moved to Prague to help the local hunters bring the supernal population under control. Something else was at play. The witch behind the abominations, perhaps.
Lysander relaxed next to me. His contentment at being in my presence slithered around the back of my mind, reminding me of the bond and what I'd become involved in. I wanted to ha
te him, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.
Time crawled by. Kadrix shouted at me every time I dared move from my assigned corner. Eventually I gave up and flicked through some of the books closest at hand. The history on redcaps was vaguely interesting for the first fifty pages, but I was almost falling asleep from boredom before long. Magic, history, none of it interested me. If he had a book on martial arts and assassination techniques, then I’d be quite content. Instead, it was all tedious things on varying alchemical theories, the breakdowns of elements and fae-related crap.
I found myself looking Lysander over; if he hadn’t have been a damn hound I’d have thrown myself at him already. He was everything I dreamt of in a man, physically at least.
“Stop fawning over the hound and come and get this tracker. You have a city to save, do you not?"
Kadrix's eyes danced with amusement as he held out a blood red locket affair. He handed it to Quin, his fingers brushing over Quin’s during the exchange. Quin didn’t seem to notice. His focus remained on the locket.
“It has been activated. Bring me back something... fun."
I recoiled from the elf as his tongue slipped out over his lips; he was taking it too far. Quin however smiled and held the locket in the palm of his hand.
“It works!"
The elf huffed. “Of course it does, now follow it. I tire of your sister's constant presence in my workshop."
I ignored him and followed after Quin as he headed to the door.
“It's pointing across the river, I see images of a large church and a square."
“Because there aren't many of those in this city...oh wait," I said sarcastically over my shoulder at Kadrix.
Quin shot me a dark look. "It's Strossmayerovo! I can see it. We must go. Now."
We didn't have time to screw around with public transport; we piled into the back of a taxi. Lysander squeezed into the middle of the seat, his firm thigh pressing against mine. I looked out the window at the dark city with the bright lights over the shops while taking a mental inventory of the weapons I had on me. It was one hound; my usual loadout would do. I had two daggers and a set of silver-coated throwing knives, along with iron filings. I tried not to swear at the driver as he hit the brakes and made us all lurch forwards, he'd been promised a good tip if he could get us there within ten minutes. I was thrown against the inside of the door as he careened down a narrow road with smooth cream walls towering up around us. It quickly opened out into a more industrial area as we sped alongside the river. Holešovice was a very different aesthetic to Vinohrady. It was an up-and-coming area that had been the industrial area not long ago. The buildings were a curious mix of the traditional old architecture, with intricate mouldings and tall spires, and modern glass boxes.
The driver pulled up alongside the tall church that looked like something right out of a Disney movie, with its yellowy-cream smooth stone and dark brown edging, complete with tower for a princess. Quin thrust a bundle of notes at him and we jogged around the corner to the small square. Fortunately, no one was waiting at the tram stop; we had no witnesses that I could discern. The businesses had already closed up, leaving us free to deal with the hound. A muffled scream came from the front of the church. Our heads snapped around to look at the source. What I assumed was the hound stepped out from the shadows, dragging a woman who had been bound and gagged. Blood smeared her left eyebrow, marring her pale skin; panic filled her brown eyes. The hound, however, looked very pleased with himself. His broad chest was puffed out, and a large grin split his harsh, angular face.
Lysander snarled at my side; I pulled my daggers but remained still. Something was wrong. The other hound was the opposite of Lysander; where my hound was lean with dark hair and stunning blue eyes, the other hound was tall, broad, with pale blond hair and thick, heavy muscles. He threw the woman down onto the cold square. She thrashed for a moment, but stilled when he looked down at her with contempt. Movement caught my eye from the rooftop to our left; a tinkling sound rang out from our right. I looked up slowly. Shadowy figures were emerging from the darkness. We were surrounded.
The other hound laughed when I ran at him. If I could get there first, then it would be over. Two black-clad figures appeared in front of me between me and the hound. They wore delicate flame-coloured silk masks that hid their appearance. I felt Lysander fighting against me, a squirming in the back of my mind. I hadn't realised that I'd been holding him back. I mentally pulled back the dark ropes from him in my mind releasing him to do as he needed. One of the wannabe ninjas was fool enough to try and land a spinning kick. I ducked under her while slashing at her tendons with one blade and slicing at her inner thigh with the other. The robes got in the way and protected her femoral artery, but I nicked her tendon. Lysander's snarls filled the air, accompanied by the woman's muffled screams. More of the black-clad people appeared from all around us; they were soon fighting side by side with infernally imbued zombies. My hopes of stopping the ritual were crumbling by the second.
The people in black weren’t as well trained as they should have been. Their limbs tangled in their robes, and they telegraphed their moves. I didn’t have to push too hard to cut them down. I broke one's knee when it failed with a sloppy kick; the crunch was satisfying, but not as much as the scream of pain that came after it. She went down with a quick blow to the temple. I cut my way through the black-clad people, hacking at tendons and slashing stomachs and throats. My mind was calm and focused, my instincts took me through the familiar motions that I’d practised thousands of times.
The zombies, on the other hand, were more of a problem. Pain threatened to cloud my mind from the blows that rained down on me. Heavy, clawed fists pounded my ribs, arms and back. I ducked and weaved as quickly and efficiently as I could, trying to hack down the zombies. Slashing the tendons didn’t do me much good. I tore off hands and shattered wrists where I could. I had my fingers wrapped around a woman’s spine when someone drove their fist into my lower back. I was pushed forward into the zombie. I broke the fragile old spine and shoved the body away before turning to face my latest attacker.
My instincts carried me through a blur of motion and sensation. Screams, groans and wails filled my ears as my blades sank into cool flesh and my boots crunched brittle bones. Blood trickled down the side of my face and covered my hands, my ribs screamed in agony, but I had to stop the ritual. Lysander emerged from the mess covered in blood and gore. He snapped the neck of the zombie in front of me with apparent ease. A grin plastered his face that quickly darkened when we felt the ripple through the square. The ritual had been completed. It was punctuated with the maniacal laugh of the other hound.
A fresh well of energy filled me, driving me onwards to kill the hound. The desire to tear his throat out almost consumed me. I used it to tear through the zombies, their heads smashing onto the stone floor, limbs breaking, and necks shattering. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the instincts weren’t entirely my own, but it wasn’t the time to fight them. We had to save the city. The square was a mess by the time we were done. The black-clad creatures had long since slipped away into the night. The ritual had left blood smeared over the grey squares, intestines strung out between the infernal symbols. Her heart sat in a pool of congealing blood in the centre of it all. We'd failed.
A glance around the chaos told me that Quin and Lysander were both ok.
“Where is it now?" I called over to Quin.
Creases formed around his eyes, his brow furrowed, and he clutched the tracker a little tighter.
“I don't know. It's not working."
I cursed out the elf. He had to do one thing, and he fucked it up. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself.
“Who do we have that can clear this mess up?"
Quin shook the tracker before he snapped to. “I'll make some calls."
I squeezed my eyes shut, the last thing we needed was humans asking questions about something as horrific as that. It was one thing in a cemetery, but a busy squ
are was an entirely different thing. I kicked a zombie head in frustration. We'd been so close. I didn't know who or what those black-clad fools were, but we'd killed a few. The hound clearly had more help than we'd originally anticipated.
Quin had spoken to Kadrix on the phone, who had told him that he'd had enough of my negative energy in his alchemy lab and it was affecting things, so we made our way up the hill to Elise's church. Kadrix had joined us not long after Quin ended the phone call. A crew of people had been cleaning up the mess the ritual had left and giving passers-by stories when we left. I couldn't help but pause and look up at the night sky; small clouds covered some of the peaceful sight, but some patches of star-laden black were still visible. I took a deep breath and allowed it to calm and soothe me. Kadrix huffed something, but Lysander remained close when he and Quin continued on to the church.
"I haven't stopped and looked at the stars before. The opportunity wasn't presented in my former life."
Pain rippled from the back of my mind. I offered him a small smile. He may have been a beast, but he was my beast. With a sharp nod, I continued on to the church without a word. The stars were something that I wasn't ready to truly share with him. It had been a long time since I'd stayed out and star-gazed with Quin. I realised how wrapped up we'd become in the hunting. The little luxuries and moments had changed. His laughter mingled with Kadrix's ahead of us; a lot had changed.
Elise eyed Kadrix with mild suspicion before a smile parted her blue lips. Kadrix circled around her muttering something while Lysander and I approached. Elise watched the elf closely but opened her arms to greet me with a deep hug.
She held me at arm's length.
"Look at the state of you! Kadrix, why haven't you healed them? You call yourself an alchemist..." she scolded him.