Princes of the Underworld

by Olivia Ash

  She dodged his hand. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Are you ready to tell me what happened?” he asked, sitting back into his seat and taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Yeah, I’m almost…” Sadie trailed off as she untied the remnants of her shirt and ripped the leg of her pants around the wound in her leg.

  The deep gash from where Mara had stabbed her—it was almost entirely healed. The opening was nearly completely sealed, leaving only a small cut less than half the size it was at first. It was still stiff and sore, but the wound was healing much faster than medically possible.

  Warmth pulsed in her chest again, and she started to piece things together. The magic fire that turned the demon hunter to ash, the renewed energy she felt as she walked, the strange ink that danced on her skin around the amulet embedded in her skin… they had to all be connected.

  Magic, she thought to herself, her body bristling with power. It felt so overwhelming. So raw. So right.

  “Carlos, do you mind if I get those clothes now?” she asked as she started to clean the remnants of her leg wound.

  “Sure, be right back.” He stood with a grunt and left the room, heading for his bedroom and flicking on the light as he entered.

  A few moments later, he returned with a small bundle of clothing. “Use whatever you’re comfortable with. Like I said earlier, some of it may be a bit big on you.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you.” She stood, taking the handful of clothes from Carlos. “I’ll be right back and explain everything.”

  Or as close to everything as possible.

  She grabbed the ones on top of the pile and entered the bathroom to change. She replaced her torn jeans and the smelly coat with an oversized, plain white t-shirt and comfortable, dark green cotton pajama pants. She gathered the ruined items she previously had on and took them to the kitchen, stuffing them into his trash can.

  She turned, and Carlos was opening a kitchen cabinet, pulling out a couple of cans of soup. He had replaced his uniform with black jeans and a blue, button-down shirt checkered with yellow lines.

  “Are you going somewhere?” she asked, pointing to his clothes.

  He shook his head. “Nah, I just figured this is going to be a long night. No use in getting into pjs if I’m not going to bed for a while.” He opened the cans and poured them into two bowls already sitting on the counter. “Will you tell me what happened now?”

  “Where the hell to begin?” she muttered and took a seat on a high-backed stool at the bar-height kitchen table.

  After placing the two bowls of soup into the microwave and starting them, Carlos joined her at the table, taking a seat of his own across from her. He sat looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to start her story.

  “Brace yourself,” she said. “This is hard enough for me to process, so I know it’s going to be hard for you to believe. If it hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t believe it myself. So, just bear with me, okay?”

  He nodded. “You’d be surprised by what I would believe. Why don’t you just worry about telling me what happened, and we’ll worry about the believability later, hmm?”

  She nodded as well and took in a deep breath. On the exhale, she said, “My sister and I were attacked in my apartment this evening by a winged woman with incredible strength and unbelievable powers. That’s why I can’t go home.”

  Right. Now, let’s let that sink in.

  Sadie winced, pausing to taking in Carlos’s expression while waiting for him to start laughing.

  Instead, he sat there with his eyebrows pinched together, slowly nodding. “And?”

  He seemed to be taking the story remarkably well considering he wanted to hear more instead of wanting to take her to the nearest psychiatric ward.

  She pulled the knife from her boot, placing it on the table between them. Its rubber handle and regular blade paled in comparison to the one Blair had given her to wound Mara with.

  “What’s that for?” he asked with a nod to the blade.

  “Oh man,” she muttered. “I took this off the guy I killed tonight, Carlos.”

  The words spilled from her mouth. Once she started telling her story, she couldn’t stop. Sadie told Carlos every detail of how Mara appeared in the apartment, her sister’s injuries, how she got the necklace and ended up in the abandoned house. Even the demon hunter she turned to ash. She told him everything. She didn’t want to leave out any details.

  And most of all, it felt good getting everything off her chest. Telling someone made everything more real and not like some crazy nightmare, but Carlos didn’t seem affected by the story.

  It was odd, honestly, that he wasn’t losing his shit, even though a small glimmer of fear in the back of her mind warned her he was probably just preparing to lock her in a padded room.

  “Do you have the necklace, now?” Carlos asked.

  “Of all the things I just told you, the necklace is what you want to see?” she asked. “Of course, I have it. It’s embedded in me.”

  “Can I see it?” he asked.

  There was something in the way he asked the question that set Sadie’s nerves on fire.

  She hesitated at first. But what did she have left to lose?

  She eventually pulled the neck of the t-shirt down to show the ruby along with the strange, moving lines of ink on her chest.

  He whistled. “Damn, Sadie. ‘Rough night’ doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

  “You’re taking all of this rather well.” She narrowed her eyes with suspicion. “What gives? Any person in their right mind would question my sanity.”

  “I know you wouldn’t make up anything so far-fetched if it wasn’t true. I can’t say that I understand, and my gut tells me you aren’t revealing everything, but I do believe you. My suspicion is someone drugged you at some point. Hallucinogens are good at portraying the impossible in very believable ways.”

  Sadie let go of the shirt and again covered the amulet’s brand on her skin. She clasped her hands on the table to keep them from shaking. Everything that had happened felt so surreal, so horrific. She questioned the events being real herself. Maybe, somehow, she did ingest something without remembering when or how.

  But her sister…

  “Let’s say that I did hallucinate everything that happened,” Sadie said with a shrug. “How do you explain what happened to my sister and how I got across town and into an abandoned house?”

  “It’s possible, though not necessarily medically documented, that you had a sort of black out. That could explain the change in location.”

  Sadie nodded. “And my sister?”

  “Do you have a way to call her?”

  Sadie shook her head. “No. She doesn’t use cell phones. She just decides to show up when she needs help or a place to stay.”

  Carlos leaned back in his stool and tapped his fingers on the tabletop. “Well, first thing we can do to help you figure out exactly what happened is run you by your apartment. If it’s burnt down as you recall, then we can safely assume that part is real.”

  Sadie wasn’t sure she was ready to do that, but if that meant she could find her sister, then that’s what she would do. “All right.”

  She grabbed the knife and slipped it back into her boot.

  “Don’t bother with that. I’ll bring my gun.”

  “I need a weapon,” she said. She wasn’t leaving without it.

  “Look, Sadie,” he said with an endearing chuckle, “I’ve been trained to protect civilians. I’m bringing my gun. Let me handle things from now on. Hallucinogen or no, you’ve already been through enough stress for one night.”

  “All the more reason to keep it,” she said, holding her ground.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. If it will make you feel better.”

  “Maybe we should look in hospitals for my sister after we’re done looking at my place,” she said as they exited Carlos’s apartment and made their way to his squad car.

  “Let me make a few p
hone calls, first.”

  After they climbed in, he called a few places about reports of fires or anyone matching Blair’s description showing up in a hospital with what appeared to be unusual stab wounds. Sadie remained quiet, trying to pick up anything from the other end of Carlos’s call.

  He hung up and shook his head. “No one by Blair’s description has shown up in a hospital, but I cashed in a few favors. We will be notified if someone matches her description shows up. Unless she was wearing a wig, or not as injured as you described her to be, she’ll be found.”

  “I guess that’s probable,” she said. “Still, maybe we should try the hospital closest to the apartment.”

  “And then what? Check every bed in the hospital? We’ll just waste our time.”

  Sadie groaned and slumped against the passenger seat, resigned. She guessed looking for clues in the apartment was their best bet. Not that she had hope of finding much. The sheer force of the flames that consumed her apartment would likely leave charred bits of furniture and framing. She didn’t even know how feasible it would be to even walk into the apartment, much less find any clues to support her story.

  She wasn’t hallucinating. Everything she’d seen tonight—everything she had endured, it was all very real. Carlos would see that for himself soon enough, and…

  Sadie cast a wary eye to her friend. Hopefully, he would still be willing to help.

  “What about the fire in my apartment?” she asked.

  “That was confirmed. But there wasn’t enough structural damage to evacuate the entire building. Be grateful for that. With your story, I may still have to hold you for questioning on possible arson charges. For now, though, I’m going to play dumb. Let’s see what we can find out, okay?” He sighed and clenched his jaw. She could see the reality of this all starting to crash into him.

  Bit by bit, he was starting to realize she was telling the truth—and she could tell he wasn’t comfortable.

  Worse than that, Sadie’s heart skipped a beat at the thought that her friend might be forced to take her into custody for something she didn’t even do. “Good to know.”

  She took this as a good sign, though. Blair had to be alive. It was possible Mara held her captive or that she was alone somewhere and badly injured, but those were better than being a corpse on her apartment floor.

  Carlos looked tense beside her. His stiff arms gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white as his fingers squeaked against the leather-like plastic. Carlos shifted his gaze, meeting hers briefly, and loosened his grip.

  “We’re going to find her, Sadie.” He reached out his hand, giving hers a tight squeeze before returning it to the wheel again. “We’re also going to get to the bottom of what happened tonight.”

  Her pulse steadied a bit. She believed him, and she was grateful she had one friend through all of this.

  When they reached Sadie’s apartment, they were greeted by police tape zig-zagged across her door. Flashes of earlier events raced through her mind. Her pulse quickened as the reality of what really happened stared her in the face.

  It couldn’t have been hallucinogens. It was real.

  She clutched the knife with one hand as Carlos pulled on the tape and twisted the door knob. There was blood on the handle before. Now it was just the normal, shining brass reflecting the light above her door.

  There was blood there. She’d seen it. She’d touched it. She knew it. But it was no longer there, wiped clean from evidence.

  With a sigh, she ducked inside, following close behind Carlos.

  “Watch where you step. The floor could fall through,” Carlos whispered, clicking on his flashlight and carefully testing each step before taking another.

  Traces of smoke filled her apartment, and the doorway leading to the living room was sooty and charred. She made sure to keep her footsteps light and close to the walls so as to avoid falling through the floor.

  Her living room felt like a different place. All four walls were scorched with pieces of surviving wallpaper peeling off. All her furniture and decorations had either combusted or were debris scattered along the floor, except for her sofa and favorite armchair that were blackened and flaking but otherwise still usable.

  At least she had the evidence of her apartment left in charred remains to help solidify her testimony to her friend. She couldn’t blame him for being skeptical. But this only proved her story. Her truth.

  Sadie carefully made it to the spot where she had last seen Blair. There was no evidence of her sister being burned to a crisp, just the charred remains of carpet that was once a vibrant, deep blue. Now it was charcoal black and burnt.

  “This is it. This is where I last saw Blair,” Sadie said in the dark, her voice echoing with eerie calm.

  When Carlos didn’t respond, she turned to see where he had gone off to. She expected him to be off in the bedroom, looking for evidence.

  Instead, he stood in the corner of her burned living room, his gun aimed at her chest and his finger on the trigger.

  She gasped. “Carlos, what—”

  “I’m sorry, Sadie,” he said. “Stay where you are and drop the knife.”

  Mara walked up from behind him, solidifying from the shadows themselves. She smirked at Sadie.

  She cast a weary glance to her friend. “Hallucinogens? Really? I trusted you.” She balled her hand into a fist, nails digging into her palm while the other tightened on the knife. “You son of a bitch.”

  Carlos shrugged. “It wasn’t a miracle that cured me, Sadie. It wasn’t even you. It was a deal with the devil that let me walk again.” He nodded toward Mara and looked to Sadie again. “Sorry you got caught up in all this.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sadie

  Mara shot a ball of fire at Sadie. She sidestepped. The blaze of heat warmed the skin on her shoulder, barely burning her as the flames rushed toward Carlos. He jumped away just in time to avoid being set on fire, but he toppled to the side, tripping on a broken chair.

  Mara’s focus remained on Sadie. She didn’t so much as cast a sideways glance toward her ally. Clearly, Mara didn’t care about him. Nor did she care about Sadie. Sadie knew Mara wanted the necklace, and the demoness was going to kill Sadie to get it.

  Not if I can help it.

  The veins in Sadie’s neck throbbed and her lips curled in disgust. Carlos had wasted his loyalty on such a shitty creature. Even more disappointing was that he burned a bridge with her to gain health—and for what? To stab her in the back and be cast aside like garbage?

  Sadie dodged another ball of fire as she watched Carlos climb to his feet on shaky knees. He grunted, still half-pointing his gun at Sadie. Rolling her eyes, she tucked the knife into her boot and made a quick downward strike with her hand, forcing the gun from Carlos’s weak grasp and swiping it for herself.

  Mara growled as she threw another ball of fire, hitting the wall adjacent to Sadie and Carlos, setting the remnants of wood aflame. Sadie knocked Carlos to the side. He may have betrayed her and accused her of being drugged, but she didn’t believe in the whole “eye for an eye” adage.

  He was still Carlos. Somehow, she had to believe that he wouldn’t have betrayed her if Mara wasn’t involved.

  Sadie turned and pointed the gun at Mara, screaming as she pulled the trigger several times and emptied the gun. But Mara only had to hold her arms in front of her to block the bullets. They bounced off her armor, landing on the floor in spent shells of ammunition.

  The gun clicked as Sadie continued to squeeze the trigger. She dropped it to the floor and glared at Mara. “Where’s my sister?”

  Mara sneered and charged at Sadie, gliding through the room, wings folded back, and sharp claws extended. She landed toe-to-toe with Sadie and wrenched her hair, jerking her head backward.

  “I will claw your heart out if it means getting back my amulet,” she hissed.

  Mara’s talons tore at Sadie’s chest, drawing blood. Sadie thrashed, trying to break free from Mara’s hold, and sla
pped a hand behind Mara’s horned head, yanking Mara’s hair. The demoness’s head snapped back.

  Two can play this game.

  Kicking her foot up behind her, she gripped the dagger in her boot and she stabbed the demoness’s thigh. Mara yelped. The grip on her hair released as she twisted away. Sadie looked down to her chest as the deep gashes from Mara’s nails left trails of blood along the ripped, borrowed shirt. They moved as the amulet glowed, the tendrils of ink reaching for the gashes and slowly working to seal the wounds.

  “You bitch.” Mara’s talons descended on her again. Sadie gripped the demoness’s wrist and twisted.

  Mara squealed.

  Sadie’s eyes narrowed. “You barge into my apartment, destroy my living room, attack me and my sister, and I’m the bitch?” she asked. “You should be more self-aware.”

  She flipped the blade in her hand, the tip pointed toward Mara’s body, and with a swipe, sliced Mara’s side. The weapon didn’t wound her the way the intricate dagger her sister had given her had, but Mara still staggered from the cut, holding her side and pulling her hand away to reveal dark blood staining her palm and fingers.

  “You’ll pay for that.” She charged.

  Sadie side-stepped and evaded Mara, causing her to land in the charred remains of her recliner. Mara turned toward her, palms heating and glowing with the promise of another ball of fire.

  Movement shifted in the corner of Sadie’s peripheral. She faced Carlos, holding a sharp fragment of wood from the broken chair he tripped on. He advanced on her.

  He apparently had recovered from his fall and wanted to add salt to the proverbial wound of his betrayal by also trying to kill her.

  If Sadie ever did find Blair, words were going to be had. And not so nice ones either.

  She ducked the balls of fire and rolled from the swing of the splintered wood. She stuck her leg out, tripping Carlos, sending him crashing to the ground. His feeble weapon flew across the floor.

  Keeping an eye on Mara’s next move, Sadie crouched beside him. “You brought this on yourself.” She smashed the dagger’s hilt against his temple. His body went slack, head lolling to the side.