Dark Bound

by Kim Richardson

  His face took on a severe cast, and he leaned forward, close enough that I could see the hint of stubble caught in the light on his chin. “Rowyn, I—”

  “What I want to know is why you’ve invited this… this thing into my house!” Spit flew from Mrs. Spencer’s mouth, and wine spilled to the floor as she gripped her wine glass with a trembling hand. The wine coiled down her wrist like blood.

  It was my turn for my jaw to drop. “I’m not a thing,” I protested, shocked. But then, maybe I was?

  Whatever respect I’d had for her when I walked through those doors vanished. I’d been called a lot of nasty names in my years, but a thing? That was just downright wrong. Still, I wasn’t as insulted as I believed Mrs. Spencer thought I would be. Surprising even myself, I felt—nothing. I would have told her to go screw herself, but I didn’t want to upset Jax. The vile woman was still his mother. Though, I didn’t know why I even cared what he thought.

  I met her glare, unmoved by her words, and that just pissed her off even more. Touché.

  “That thing shouldn’t exist. She shouldn’t be allowed to live.” Mrs. Spencer’s eyes turned from her son to me and she said, “It should die.”

  Nice. This is just getting better and better.

  “Now you’re talking crazy,” said Jax addressing his mother, but I could see the tension flickering over his face. “You’re embarrassing yourself. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “A thing like that killed your sister!”

  Jax sighed through his nose. “Stop it, mother.”

  “There’s demon stink everywhere!” raged Mrs. Spencer. “It’s in the air, on my walls—my pictures! Her very presence is an insult to your sister. How could you do that to her? How could you do that to Gillian! What were you thinking!”

  The woman was really starting to tick me off. “I think your mom’s off her meds.”

  At that, Mrs. Spencer whirled on me, fury creasing her perfect brows. Her body shook as she raised her wine glass, and for a second I thought she was about to toss that wine into my face.

  “Mind your own business, Mother,” said Jax and stepped in front of his mother’s glass, clearly thinking the same thing. “This has nothing to do with her.”

  “It has everything to do with her!” Mrs. Spencer was practically screaming, her eyes bulging.

  Damn. I wish Tyrius was here. He’d love to see this.

  “That’s enough drama for today, Mother,” said Jax, his face darkening into an angry red. “Rowyn has nothing to do with Gillian’s death. In fact, she helped me find the name of the demon responsible.” He paused, collecting himself. “She’s my… friend. How dare you treat her this way.”

  Friend? My heart clenched. We were just friends, weren’t we? I could see that my startled reaction pleased his mother, her eyes glittering triumphantly.

  Louis stepped forward. “Don’t you speak to your mother like that, boy.”

  Ire rippled over Jax’s shoulders as he faced Louis, and a strange smile formed on his mouth. He looked dangerous and about to strike. “Boy? I’ll show you boy—”

  “Stop it! Both of you.” Mrs. Spencer got to her feet, dripping more wine on the carpet. I don’t know why she had such a problem with me being so dirty. She was the one messing up the expensive rug. Wine is harder to get out than blood. Trust me, I know.

  Louis turned to Mrs. Spencer. The look he gave her was full of admiration and something else that made me wonder where Jax’s father was. “Celeste, come take a walk in the garden with me,” he said as he made to take her hand. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let her in. If I’d known how upset you’d be, I would have turned her away. I would have left her outside with her demon kin.”

  Demon kin?

  “You don’t need to be in her presence anymore,” continued Louis. “Jax will show her out.”

  Celeste smacked his hand away and pointed a red manicured finger at me. “I see the way that thing is looking at you.” Her eyes darted from me to Jax. “Tell me you didn’t, Jax. Not with that.”

  More heat rushed to my face. Ah hell, now this was embarrassing. But I felt worse when I saw Jax’s face take on another deep shade of red.

  Celeste stared at her son and arched a delicate brow. “What does Ellie think about this? Does she know you’ve been messing around with a demon?”

  Ellie? Feeling numb, I turned and stared at Jax, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. My throat tightened. Why wouldn’t he look at me?

  Before I could control myself, I blurted, “Who’s Ellie?”

  Jax raked a hand through his hair, giving away his nervousness. “Don’t, Mother. This isn’t helping.”

  Celeste gave me a winning smile, reminiscent of one of Amber’s. She brushed a delicate strand of hair from her eyes, her oval face showing a surprising amount of sly amusement.

  “His fiancée.”

  My stomach clamped. I felt like I’d been stabbed with a blade, a white-hot blade, right into my heart, slicing it into tiny pieces.

  I stilled my emotions, feeling the room beginning to spin. When I faced him, his green eyes were as ruthless as the churning sea. But he didn’t deny it.

  Jax had a fiancée. And I was the biggest fool of the century.

  “Get out of my house… demon.” Celeste’s face held nothing but that cool amusement.

  The word was a slap in the face, and she’d meant it to be. I barely heard Jax’s outrage for the loud pounding in my ears. I met his mother’s gaze and held it.

  My heart hammered and my face went cold. “With pleasure.”

  And with that, I stormed from the den and out the front doors.

  10

  I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. Ah, hell. I was crying.

  I brushed my tears away before Tyrius saw them. Hunters didn’t cry. Hunters never cried. Hunters made people cry.

  I’d never been so humiliated in my life. And yes, I’d been through my share of crap. But for a horrible minute there, Jax’s mom almost, almost made me feel ashamed of who and what I was.

  Screw her.

  I didn’t need her. I didn’t need Jax. I didn’t need anyone. Well, except maybe Tyrius.

  My mood fouled and the only way to remedy it was to kill something. Preferably demons, though Celeste’s face kept flickering before my eyes. Damn that woman made my blood boil.

  After calling Pam to tell her Jax was alive and reasonably well at his parents’ place—because I didn’t trust that Jax would remember to call her—I’d gone home and packed as much salt as I could carry along with other supplies in my large leather messenger bag. Once I had gathered everything I needed for the journey, had eaten a bite, and had checked that my weapons belt was loaded, Tyrius and I went in search of my mark.

  We strolled down Riverside Park, gravel crunching under my boots. Blasting trucks and roaring cars echoed all around us as we neared the stone arches of the Riverside Drive viaduct—one of the entrances to Elysium.

  By the time we made it to the entrance, the sky was a deep orange, reflecting on the Hudson River like blood. A dark omen or a warning not to enter? Through the mouth of the wide tunnel, swallowing the light and leaving only darkness, was the entrance to Elysium.

  I stifled a shiver. It wasn’t smart going after a half-breed at night in a place I’d never been before. A place like Elysium housed abundant demons and Rifts, waiting to pull you into the Netherworld.

  My gut tightened. “We should hurry. It’ll be dark soon.” Demons came out night, feeding on the darkness and shadows, which gave them strength.

  “It doesn’t matter,” said Tyrius as he sniffed a retaining wall covered in numerous layers of graffiti. “Inside Elysium it’s always nighttime. That’s why it’s the place of choice for most demons. The lack of light makes it a relatively easy passage into this world.”

  From where I was standing, I could see part of a railroad, cluttered with rubble and running deep into the hollow mouth of the tunnel in silent invitation.

  �
�You okay?”

  I looked down to see Tyrius’s blue eyes bright with worry. My heart gave a little tug. “I’m fine. Don’t worry,” I added with a tight smile. “It’s nothing a little demon killing can’t fix.”

  Tyrius gave a small sigh. “This sucks. I kind of liked Jax, you know? He wasn’t stuck up. He didn’t have the god complex attitude that most angel-born share. He liked beer and guns. He was cool.”

  “I know.” My throat closed and I sighed. I had to kill something fast or I was going to lose it.

  “Now he’s just a Grade-A ass.”

  “I think he takes after his mom.” I gave Tyrius a smile and hiked my bag higher, securing it over my shoulder where it wouldn’t move, as I yanked my soul blade free from my belt. A girl could never be too careful.

  “Let’s go.” There was no point in standing there. The sooner I found this Ugul character, the sooner we could get out of there.

  I’d never tracked a faerie before, and among all the foul stench of demon and human waste, it wasn’t going to be easy. I moved forward, my boots crunching loudly on the gravel, and then I froze.

  A feeling of being watched crept over me like icy fingers wrapped around my neck. Heart pounding, I whirled around, my soul blade thrust before me.

  Tapping into both my angel-born and demon senses, I searched for the familiar cold feeling of demons, but all I perceived was the recognizable warm wave of humanity. No supernatural entities. No demons. Nothing.

  Humans strolled in the park, not even giving us a glance as they went on their merry way along the walkway that edged the river. There were no demons or half-breeds that I could sense. But I had sensed something. I was sure of it.

  Tyrius was next to me in a flash. “What is it, Rowyn? You saw something? Are you getting your Jedi vibe?”

  “I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.” I couldn’t help but wonder if the Greater demon Degamon still wanted a piece of me. I had killed some of its minions, but they had attacked first. The sensation had been so fast I couldn’t tell if it was demon or maybe even angel. Vedriel’s allies would eventually come after me. It was only a matter of time before their angel asses found mine.

  I strained my eyes around the park, searching for that feeling of being watched again. But it was gone. “It’s nothing,” I said, shrugging. “Come on.”

  “If you say so,” muttered the cat as he padded next to me.

  A rush of excitement mixed with trepidation soared through me as we stepped through the mouth of the tunnel, my usual high of going on a hunt. It stank of mold and dust, but the air also held the smell of rotting eggs and decay. It intensified as we treaded into the tunnel—the stench of half-breeds and demons. But there was also a flicker of something else, something cold, dark and powerful. A darkness leaked from somewhere inside the tunnels, and it tugged inside my chest as a cold shudder ran through me. Rifts. It was the only explanation for such a strong supernatural pull—doorways to the Netherworld.

  Yikes. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if I accidentally stepped through one of these portals. I’d sent a lot of demons back to the Netherworld. I doubted they’d throw me a Welcome Home Party.

  I picked my way along the tracks, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness around us. The entrance was large and dark, but with my enhanced angel and demon senses, my eyes quickly adjusted like I was seeing the world through Tyrius’s eyes. He could see in the dark just like any ordinary cat.

  Soon I couldn’t hear the loud traffic behind us. There was only the sound of my boots echoing around me. Tyrius’s soft padding was silent, as usual.

  After a two-minute walk along the tracks, there was a gap on the right-side tunnel’s wall, large enough to fit an SUV. Concrete rubble lay below the opening, as though a giant creature had busted through to get to the mortal world from the Netherworld.

  A cold, damp breeze leaked through the crack, bringing forth the smell of sulfur, rotten flesh and the sticky, metallic odor of blood.

  The pulse of darkness was stronger here. I could almost see it seeping out through the hole in the wall like a black mist. This was the true entrance to Elysium, not the viaduct. I wondered how many stupid humans wandered through the opening, never to be seen again.

  “This is it,” said Tyrius. “There’s no going back after we cross that threshold. You sure you want to go through with this? There’s no shame in refusing the contract.” He stuck out his tongue. “We are talking about the fae. We HATE the fae. Remember? We can get more work from Father Thomas. Closet demons abound this time of year.”

  “No,” I said. “I’m doing this.” I need to do this. I needed to work. Working kept me focused. If I didn’t, I’d be laughing in self-pity of how stupid I was, how I got played by Jax’s pretty face. Just the thought of him sent a sharp stab of pain through my chest. I’m an idiot. He has a freaking fiancée. She was probably drop-dead gorgeous, a pure angel-born from an old family, and stupid rich, just like him.

  Whereas I was a stain on his mother’s expensive carpet.

  My eyes burned, and I wanted to kick myself. Nice going, Rowyn.

  I vowed that when I was done with this hunt, I was going to find myself a nice human and have some angry sex.

  I looked down and my cheeks flamed. Tyrius was staring at me with a knowing expression on his face. I’d always wondered if baals could read minds.

  “How hard can it be? It’s just one stinking faerie,” I said, trying to focus on the job, not wanting Tyrius to read too much into my emotions. Yet, my gut also told me that it wouldn’t be so easy if the fae queen’s Dark Arrows hadn’t been able to locate their trickster faerie.

  “You sure you’re not doing this for the wrong reasons?” questioned my furry friend.

  “Like what? Getting twenty grand for a measly faerie?” I cocked my hip. “If I don’t get the rest of this money, my grandmother loses her house. There’s no way I’m going to let that happen. This money—this damned faerie money—is going to help me keep her house. It sucks, really sucks, but it’s my only way to help my grandmother.” Frustrated, I gritted my teeth. “I hate these pointy-eared bastards, but I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Uh-huh,” Tyrius said, his expression skeptical. “Fine. Then I’ll go first. Watch my back.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I faced forward, pushing all thoughts of Jax from my mind as I followed the Siamese cat through the gap. My ears popped and I was immediately hit with the sensation of a change in pressure, like landing in an airplane.

  Once through the threshold, I found myself in another tunnel. Unlike the New York City subway or Amtrak tunnel with smooth stone walls, these walls were rough and haphazard as though carved by hand. They had the musty, earth-like smell of a cave.

  A breeze blew from the black depths, pushing strands of my hair past my face. A shiver ran down my spine. A mix of cobwebs and tree roots sprouted over the tunnel walls. Moisture was thick and I felt a thin film of it sticking to my face and neck as soon as we’d crossed the threshold. The tunnel was silent except for the soft trickling of water somewhere.

  Suddenly the ground shook, and something cracked behind me. When I turned, my breath caught. The tunnel wall was completely smooth, the rock surface flat and intact. The entrance to Elysium had vanished.

  “Tyrius,” I said alarmed.

  “Don’t worry. The entrance is spelled, but we can still get out,” said the cat as he crept next to me and stood by the wall. He bit his paw, black blood seeping from his wound, and then he pressed it against wall. When he took his paw away, a perfect paw print was left. Then he bounded right through the wall where the entrance had been and disappeared, only to reappear the next second. “See? It wants you to go through, but then it wants to keep you inside too. Now we know which way is out.”

  Smart cat. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Tyrius,” I said, smiling.

  Tyrius beamed. “Stick with me, kid, and I’ll have you farting through silk.”

&nb
sp; Laughing, I followed the cat down the passageway. The ground was covered in dust and hard-packed dirt, no doubt from the throng of demons and half-breeds that wandered through along with the occasional idiot human.

  After a half hour of trudging down the path, the air became hot and thin, only to be replaced by the stink of sulfur. Sweat trickled down my back and temples as it became harder to breathe, like the air was toxic and every breath was labored. This is what the air must be like in the Netherworld.

  We plunged into a void, a wasteland of brutal blackness, choked of all sense of time or awareness of place. Tyrius kept stopping and sniffing the walls, his ears low and his face pinched like he was smelling something foul. His edginess was making me nervous, and my pulse raced, making me lightheaded.

  I need air. Fresh air.

  Amidst the hot stinking air, I felt the cold darkness and the faint stench of death and rot. “Damn half-breeds,” I said, trying to keep breathing through my mouth. “They always pick the most charming places to hang out. How can they want to live down here? I mean, I get why demons do—they’re demons—but half-breeds are part human. Don’t they need some fresh air? I’d go mad if I had to stay here.”

  “They probably don’t have a choice,” said the cat. “It’s either this—or death.”

  Prickles of sweat popped out on my forehead. “I don’t know about you, but my demon radar is going into overdrive. It’s hard to pinpoint a particular half-breed. Everywhere feels… feels like the flow of random demon energies.”

  “The Rifts are doing that,” said Tyrius without looking up. “It’s raw demon energy, naked and pulsing through them. They’re bound to screw with our demon mojo.”

  I picked my way around a pile of fallen rocks and rubble. “It’s going to make it that much harder to find Ugul. He could be anywhere down here.”

  Tyrius looked over his shoulder and said, “Just follow the stink. There’s always a faerie at the end of the crapper.”

  I laughed, letting myself relax a little. The sound bounced over the walls, foreign and out of place in the tunnel, as though the sound of laughter itself wasn’t allowed.