“Good.”
“Were you on the field?”
“Yes.”
She squeezed my arm as she let out a loud breath. “That must have been awful, Ash.”
“It was,” I admitted.
A subtle shifting behind me drew my attention to Hawk. I couldn’t stop myself from beaming at him as I stepped aside to let him see Sandy better. “This is my friend, Sandy.”
He extended his hand toward her. “I’m Hawk.”
Sandy smiled as she shook his hand; I ignored the questioning look she sent me. “I’m going into the Wilds with Hawk and some others to hunt for the horsemen,” I told her.
Sandy released Hawk’s hand. “Ash…” Her voice trailed off, and she pulled off a glove to wipe at her eyes. “I know it was your plan before all this, but are you sure you still want to go?”
“Yes. They have to die.”
Sandy snorted as she surveyed the dead. “I can’t argue with that.”
“Have you been here since last night?”
“Yes.”
“You must be exhausted.”
“I missed most of the battle; this is the least I can do.”
“Sandy—”
“I’ll only be here for a few more hours, and then I’ll head home.”
“Are you all alone there?” I asked.
“Yeah, I found my new roommate an hour ago, but I’ll be fine. I should get back to work; these bodies won’t move themselves. At least I hope they won’t.”
I forced myself not to step away from the bodies closest to me. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but when I return, I’ll find you,” I promised.
“Just make sure you return.”
I closed my eyes when we hugged again and tried not to think about the possibility this might be the last time I saw her. Tears burned my eyes, but before I could shed them, I stepped away from her. She smiled at me before slipping her glove and mask on; she waved goodbye to Hawk and returned to the woman who was still standing by the body Sandy had released when she saw me.
Some of my happiness faded as we made our way back through the bodies. The horsemen had to pay for what they’d done.
I walked with Hawk back into the town and to his house. We didn’t speak as he packed a backpack full of supplies before we returned to meet with Corson, Wren, Lix, and Bale. There were no other demons with them, but they’d all gathered supplies too. Since this was a demon mission, there were a lot fewer supplies than would have been required if humans were joining us.
I’d packed a couple of bottles of water and granola bars that would keep me going; plus, I could always hunt if I got hungry.
“Ready?” Corson asked.
“Always,” Hawk replied.
The king, queen, Erin, and Vargas came out to join us and escorted us to the road we’d have to take to bypass the still smoldering ruins of the forest. They broke away and waved goodbye as we continued with six hellhounds. It was going to be a long journey.
Chapter Nineteen
Hawk
After a week of traveling on foot, riding the hounds, and briefly using a couple of vehicles we found parked in a garage, we were closing in on Caim and the horsemen. We were also deeper into the Wilds than I’d ever been before and exhausted. Demons required less sleep than humans, but only sleeping an hour or two at a time was not enough.
Riding the hellhounds was also a miserable experience, but it was the fastest way to travel. Unfortunately, the beasts pounded up and down hills and through the woods with no concern for whoever was on their backs. They could often go around some of the obstacles they hit, but I think they took joy in running us into low-hanging branches and knocking us off.
They wanted us on their backs as much as we wanted to be there. We could have taken some of the horses from the wall, but they couldn’t cover as much land as fast as the hounds could. The horses required more rest and a steady food and water supply that we couldn’t guarantee for them.
So we were stuck riding the hounds, and they expressed their dislike in every way possible, but the beasts were relentless in their pursuit of the horsemen.
During the week, we caught and fed on some wraiths we discovered at an old cemetery, but another hunger festered inside me. However, Aisling was still determined we get to know each other better, and so we were.
We rarely took breaks, but when we did, we asked each other random questions. I knew her birthday was March fourteenth, she was a Pisces, her favorite color was green, she hated blueberries, loved Pearl Jam, and her favorite book was Of Mice and Men. In return, she knew my birthday was September first, which made me a Virgo. She also knew my favorite color was red, I hated popcorn, loved hard rock, despised disco, and there were too many good books to have a favorite.
“Favorite place in the world?” Aisling asked as she slid her leg over the back of a hellhound. She winced as she stretched her back while walking in a circle and shaking out her legs.
I climbed off my hound and restrained a wince when my legs protested the movement. I felt saddle sore despite the fact there were no saddles on the beasts. When Aisling ambled closer to me, I rested my hand on her elbow and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Does inside you count?”
A blush crept up her cheeks before she laughed. “No, it doesn’t.”
Being this close to her without being able to have her was a torture fit for the depths of Hell.
“Favorite place,” she prodded.
“Before the war, my stepdad built me a treehouse in our backyard. I’d spend hours in it reading, playing with friends, and making sure my sisters stayed out. That fort was my second home. Your favorite place?”
A wistful look came over her face as she brushed back a strand of loose hair and tucked it behind her ear. Longing to be her fingers, I followed every move she made like a starving man gazing at a banquet.
“Home,” she murmured. “Something I never thought I’d say. Traveling everywhere was always my dream, but I would give anything to wake up to the smell of my mom cooking breakfast again.”
Unable to resist, I rested my hand against her nape and pulled her close to kiss her temple. “If you’ll let me, I’ll give you a home one day.”
Her fingers encircled my wrist as she leaned into me. Being this close to her was both torture and bliss. She pricked my hunger and drove the canagh part of me crazy, but strangely, she also calmed me.
The funny thing was, no matter how badly I desired her, this getting to know her aspect was fun. The more I learned about her, the more I liked her. We had our differences—she disliked horror movies, never liked sports, and was sacrilegious in her belief that disco music was good—but they were differences we laughed about as we argued over them.
I found myself growing to like her more with every passing day, and when she smiled, I found myself smiling with her. She didn’t laugh often, but when she did, it was a clear, beautiful sound that made me smile.
“This is fresh.”
Wren’s words drew my attention away from Aisling and back toward the reason why we stopped. Wren stood before an arrow carved into the trunk of a pine tree. The arrow pointed east through the forest.
Over the years, the Wilders developed a universal language. They kept it simple so each group would understand what another group was trying to tell them. During our time in the Wilds, we’d all learned to use and read the language. Caim hadn’t dated this marking, probably because he didn’t have time, but a date wasn’t necessary as fresh sap leaked from the tree.
“We should proceed on foot.” Bale shot a look at the hounds. “It won’t do us any good to be run into a tree while trying to sneak up on the horsemen.”
I swear the hounds grinned at her as their tongues lolled from their mouths. They could tear a horseman to shreds, but they looked as innocent as a puppy.
“Come on,” Corson said. “Hopefully we find Caim soon.”
He took Wren’s hand, and they started into the woods together; Bale and Lix followe
d. When I held my hand out to Aisling, she didn’t hesitate before taking it. When she moved closer, I caught the scent of the woods we’d traveled through and something sweeter beneath the aroma.
I couldn’t quite place the fragrance, but a memory of my home in Falmouth came to mind. My sisters and I stood by some bushes as I picked berries from them so they wouldn’t poke themselves on the thorns. The red berries were round in our hands and squirted juice in our mouths when we bit on them.
Raspberries, I recalled with a smile. Aisling smelled like raspberries.
Releasing her hand, I pushed a branch out of her way. She ducked the next limb and sidestepped a log while she glided through the trees. Sunlight danced across the ground as it filtered in and out of the trees surrounding us, and a steep hill rose before us.
I didn’t know what state we were in, but we were on the outskirts of a mountain chain. The leaves on the trees had all turned burnt orange, red, and yellow. A lot of them had fallen, but some floated on the air as the wind swept them from the boughs.
If we continued to chase the horsemen into the mountains, we would run into a problem when the weather turned, but if we were closing in on Caim, that meant the horsemen were nearby. We’d find them and get out of here before we had to worry about the cold and snow.
Aisling stopped and pulled a red leaf from her hair before inspecting it. She tilted her head back to the sky and inhaled a deep breath as she closed her eyes against the rays dancing over her beautiful face. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her serene expression.
Then she lowered her head and opened her eyes. Flames burst out of her palms, and the leaf turned to ashes, which she scattered from her fingertips. Every time we stopped for a break, she worked on her ability.
“It’s getting stronger,” she said to me before starting up the hill again.
“It is,” I agreed.
She’d already told me it was stronger since we completed our bond, but every passing day, I saw the flame growing brighter and lasting longer. She’d never have Kobal-level abilities, but she might attain River’s fire level and possibly surpass her if she kept working at it.
Last night, she’d rolled up the sleeves of her shirt and held her hands out. We all watched as the flames spread from her palms to her wrists, up her arms, and around her biceps. The fire intensified when I touched her back before she extinguished it.
The hounds prowled through the woods and spread out as they slipped into the shadows. If something tried to come up behind us, they would tear it to pieces. Corson held up a hand to halt the rest of us before he continued toward the peak of the hill.
I stepped closer to Aisling as I surveyed the woods. The six hounds sniffed the air as they moved. If something were out there, they would let us know, but something about this place didn’t feel right.
I surveyed the trees as a squirrel crept to the end of a branch and looked down at the hounds. Even with the sign of animal life, something felt off about this place as leaves floated on the air.
Corson knelt at the top of the hill and leaned forward as he peered over. Wren took a couple of steps toward him when he turned to wave us forward. I knelt beside Corson and rested my hand on the ground as Aisling knelt beside me.
The hill descended into a valley awash in color from the trees. A fog hanging low over the valley blocked the bottom of it. Beyond the mist, more hills and mountains rose and fell with the earth. Some of their peaks touched the pristine, blue sky and snow covered the farthest mountain tops.
Aside from the swaying trees and the rustle of the wind moving through the leaves, nothing stirred below. I searched for any sign of Caim but didn’t see him anywhere. He had to be nearby; that carving in the tree was only a few hours old.
“Where’s Caim?” Bale murmured.
“He could be below or on the other side of that mountain. We won’t know until we go down there,” Lix said.
He was right, but I didn’t want to take Aisling down there. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a choice.
Chapter Twenty
Aisling
Hawk stayed by my side as we moved from tree to tree to keep from falling down the steep hill. We were almost to the bottom when my feet skidded on some leaves, and I almost went down. Hawk caught my wrist before my ass could hit the ground, but I was stuck in some weird Twister move as my backpack weighed me down and my feet kept skidding on the leaves.
Hawk plucked me off the ground and set me on my feet. He grinned as he released me. “Easy there, graceful.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“No problem. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I muttered as I wiped the dirt from my palms.
We were near the bottom of the hill when thin tendrils of mist coiled out toward Corson and Wren as they moved deeper into the fog. I bit my lip while I studied the thick fog covering whatever lay ahead of us. At least we were off the hill, and the going was easier through the flatter section of land.
“Maybe…” I had no idea what I was going to say. Maybe we should turn back? Maybe this was a bad idea? We could climb back out of the fog and try to walk around it, but that could take hours, and we were so close to Caim. There was no turning around, and we all knew it was a bad idea, but we had no other choice.
“Maybe?” Hawk prodded.
“Nothing,” I muttered as a tendril of fog brushed against my cheek.
I almost slapped it away, but it was impossible to hit fog. Still, when another one coiled around my arm, I couldn’t stop myself from trying to brush it away. It did no good, of course, and more of them drifted around me as we progressed deeper into the fog.
Beads of water formed on my skin and stuck my clothes to me as the mist caressed my skin.
Through the fog covering the ground, I caught glimpses of my boots, but the further we walked, the thicker it got until my ankles vanished and then most of my calves.
I wiped away the sweat on my nape before lowering my hand to one of the knives at my side. The day wasn’t chilly, but goose bumps covered my arms, and the ice seeping into my bones caused my teeth to chatter.
The hounds slid from the trees and prowled closer to us. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the oversized furballs—I still had a bruise on my forehead from the one who ran me into a branch— but I was glad they were here. If anything was out there, they’d be the first to know, wouldn’t they?
Dogs and other animals sensed things before humans, but these were Hell creatures. Their definition of dangerous was probably a lot different than mine.
“Have you ever encountered anything like this before?” Corson asked Wren.
“I’ve encountered fog before,” she said. “And I’ve been in thicker fog, especially in mountainous areas, but something doesn’t feel right about this.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Bale agreed.
When the mist rose to my knees, I almost grasped Hawk’s arm, but I restrained myself. I wasn’t a scared little damsel in distress. I was a trained killer, and this was fog. But the fog was so thick that it was impossible to see more than five feet ahead of me. It also distorted and muffled all sound. When Hawk stepped on a branch, it sounded as if it were coming from my left and farther away, but it was coming from a few feet directly behind me.
With the fog distorting our senses, we would be more vulnerable in this place. And then, one of the hounds growled.
Corson stopped, and his earring spun in his ear as he turned his head toward the hound. The hair on the hound’s back rose as it stared at something to my left. I pulled my gun free.
“Shit,” Wren muttered.
When the hound growled again, the others prowled closer to it, and Corson turned to Wren. “Stay here.”
When he walked away from her, she grabbed for him, but he’d already moved beyond her reach. She started after him as Corson approached the hound. Then, through the swirling fog, figures emerged.
I raised my gun and gripped it in both hands while holding it before me; I’d prefer my enemies d
idn’t know I had the weapon until I put a bullet in them.
“Hello,” a beautiful, melodic voice called.
Corson didn’t relax, and the hackles on the hounds rose as the fog parted to reveal one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever seen. Her golden-blonde hair swayed against her hips as it spilled in thick waves down her back. Her blue eyes were so vivid they pierced through the mist gliding across her perfect features.
Her body would stop most men and women in their tracks, and she emphasized it with form-fitting pants and a shirt that looked about to bust open over her breasts. A smile curved her lips as she stopped walking and jutted out a hip.
Despite her beauty, what lay beneath her surface was something so hideous it caused bile to rise in my throat.
Her soul wasn’t a light anymore; it had twisted itself into a malformed beast with two glowing, yellow eyes. Its head kind of resembled a Doberman, but it was far more revolting than that beautiful dog. The flesh of the dog thing’s muzzle had been stripped away to reveal all its pointed teeth, and it surveyed us with the calculation of something seeking to devour us.
I’d seen many corrupted souls over the years, but only one came close to this level of hideousness. That soul belonged to a man who went to church every Sunday, played against my dad’s softball team, worked at the factory, and was always seen laughing and slapping his friends on their backs. He hung out at the local bar, volunteered at the food pantry, and was an all-around great guy… who terrified me.
I was only three when I first encountered him at a bake sale for our church. He wasn’t a parishioner there, but his wife made some cookies for the sale anyway. My mom said I screamed so loud and cried so much when I met him, they had to take me home. My parents didn’t understand why I was rambling about a monster living inside the man, but they kept me away from him anyway.
Thankfully, I didn’t see him again until he started playing in the same softball league as my dad. I was seven, and by then, my parents and I knew I was different. When I saw him this time, I could articulate there was something wrong with him instead of screaming about a monster. I could tell they wanted to believe me, but by all accounts, he was a great guy who was a pillar of the community.
Kiss of Death: Hell on Earth Series, Book 3 Page 13