Dark Bound

by Kim Richardson

  We’d moved another hundred feet when Tyrius halted before three equally dark and imposing tunnels that branched off from the main one.

  The baal demon turned and looked up at me, his eyes wide. “I think we should keep going straight.”

  I examined the other two tunnels. “What’s wrong with these two?”

  Tyrius shrugged. “A veterinarian with a giant needle with my name on it.” The Siamese shivered. “Okay, maybe not. But there’s something evil brewing down there, especially the one on the right.”

  I wiped the sweat from my eyes. “Okay,” I said, feeling useless. My hunting skills weren’t as effective down here as I’d first imagined they would be. Whenever I sent out my senses, I’d get the same cold, demonic pulse back, as though it had bounced back from the wall. I’d be willing to bet the Rifts were affecting my demon and angel mojo.

  Crap. That was not good.

  After two hours of trudging down the same path, I began to notice a rising sense of panic as we moved. I felt overly tired, like my energy was being drained into this place. A queasy feeling tightened my chest, feeling like the tunnels were trapping us.

  My heart throbbed as I tried to squelch the panic from my thoughts, only to have it bounce back tenfold.

  “Damn this place,” swore Tyrius and he halted.

  I stalked towards to him. “What it is?”

  “Our own tracks. We’ve been going around in circles!”

  “What?”

  I knelt down to focus my eyes on the baked earth at our feet and recognized size ten women’s boot tracks and paw prints. Our own. Shit.

  My throat clamped shut. We were screwed. If Tyrius couldn’t find his way down here, how were we going to find our way out of this hell?

  I stood up slowly, heart pounding in my throat. “We’re lost.”

  “And you’re trespassin’,” said a voice in the shadows.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Tyrius’s eyes snapped open in sudden, startled shock.

  I hadn’t felt them coming, but I’d recognize their stench anywhere—the mix of old beer, rotten fruit and a dash of skunk.

  Leprechauns.

  11

  Four leprechauns stepped from the shadows and faced us, blocking our way.

  Contrary to popular belief, they were not the four-inch-tall bearded men, wearing green top hats and green clothes, nor did they hang around the ends of rainbows counting their pots of gold. Nope. These were over six feet tall, bulging with muscles like men who spent too much time in the gym. They were big. Really big. They were taller than me and twice as broad.

  Dressed in only jeans with black motorcycle boots, their masculine, hairy chests were covered in a colorful array of skull, eagle, and tribal tattoos. But the assortment of weapons had me really impressed—knives, hunting daggers, short swords, sickles, axes, and even hammers were strapped over their bodies.

  The thing with leprechauns, they didn’t really abide by the half-breed rules, nor did they have a court or any sense of loyalty to the Gray Council. That was probably because, as the product of vamps and faeries breeding, they were shunned from the other half-breeds.

  There wasn’t a written law that forbade half-breeds from mixing or from having relations with other half-breeds, but it was still frowned upon and taboo among most of the races.

  The other peculiar thing with leprechauns was that they were all male—and sterile, like mules. They were more of a rare half-breed race, but they were mean and angry. Totally understandable.

  Being from both vampire and faerie, leprechauns had the physical strength of vampires and some magic from the fae, but they weren’t blessed with good looks or grace. Nope. More like trolls. The best I could describe leprechauns was as the half-breed mafia, paranormal gang members, the half-breed hired muscle.

  “Well, well, well,” mocked Tyrius. “If it isn’t the leper-chauns,” he added, laughing sourly at his own joke. “Get out of our way, lepers. We don’t have time for any of your crap. We’re on a job.”

  I never understood Tyrius’s deep loathing for this race of half-breed, and he never wanted to elaborate on it either.

  The only redheaded leprechaun stepped closer. He wore his hair longer in the back and short on top, and I pinned him as their leader. “This is our tunnel, witch-demon,” he said, his voice harsh and deep, rich with an accent I couldn’t place. White marred his hair and beard, and he had lines on his face, putting his age at well into maturity. His eyes were green, wild and blazing with excitement.

  “You don’t say?” Tyrius sat, head straight, looking regal in the dungy cave. “Because the last I checked, Elysium didn’t belong to anyone, and especially not to you leper-chauns.”

  The red-haired leprechaun growled, and I was shocked at how much it sounded like a werewolf’s growl. His grubby fingers twitched as they neared the sword at his waist.

  Shit. I moved Tyrius back with my leg and sheathed my blade. “We don’t want any trouble,” I said, though I cocked my hip to show them I was willing to entertain a little trouble if it came to that. “This is Hunter business,” I said, glad that my voice was even. “There’s no reason this has to get ugly. Just let us through.”

  The red-haired leprechaun smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotten teeth. “Can’t do that, sweetheart. See, this here,” he said as he reached back and pulled out an axe. I couldn’t help but notice that the blade was stained in black. “This is our tunnel. Our tunnel. Our rules. And the rule is you gotta pay the toll.” His green eyes moved to my bag, and they brightened with greed.

  I gripped my shoulder strap protectively and gave a sour laugh, “I’m not giving you shit. Forget it.”

  “Then you can just turn around and go back, sweetheart,” commented the redhead, and he sneered at the scowl on my face. “That’s if you can find your way out again.” He laughed, and the other three exchanged knowing grins.

  “I say we smoke them, Rowyn,” said Tyrius, his voice carrying as he leaped to his feet. His claws dug into the dirt. “Anyone who still wears a mullet deserves to die. You take those three—shotgun on Carrot Top.”

  I shifted nervously. I wouldn’t kill a leprechaun in cold blood, not unless it was in self-defense, and I wasn’t a defenseless little female. Hell, I could probably take all four. But the tunnel, the smell, and the lack of air gave me pause. The longer I spent in the tunnels, the more energy was drained from me. Something just didn’t feel right about this place. And I wasn’t about to take a chance on my life or Tyrius’s.

  “I’m under contract to find a half-breed,” I said, glad that I had the leader’s full attention. “I’m a Hunter. It’s my job to track down evil bastards. If you try and stop me with your weapons, I’ll take it as an attack upon my person. I’ll have no choice but to defend myself. I might even kill you.”

  The leprechaun’s smile turned malevolent. “Hunter or not, everybody pays. No exceptions.”

  “Let’s kill them, Ramis,” said the largest of the leprechauns, with short black hair and skin like tree bark. “Then we split what’s in the bag,” he added and pointed a knife towards my messenger bag. “And we could fetch a good price for the witch-demon.”

  Tyrius hissed and spat. “Bite me, lepie.”

  Now I was pissed. “Come and try to take my bag, big boy. I dare you,” I said, smiling, my hand reaching for the hilt of my soul blade.

  “Have it your way then,” said Ramis, his expression hard. Sweating, I watched Ramis force the visible tension from his face and stance until he was the casual, confident gang boss on the surface. The air pressure shifted, and suddenly the leprechauns crouched, ready to attack.

  “Fight!” howled Tyrius, and I swear I saw a smile on his face.

  The leprechauns sprang forward.

  My pulse hammered, and I lowered myself. I had my soul blade at their faces before a single one of them managed to clear an axe from their belts.

  I swung the blade and cut through the air as they advanced, snarling and
howling like beasts. Man, they were ugly.

  It was like a sea of tan, rough skin and denim coming at us in waves. The smell of rotten fruit burned my eyes. The big dumb one launched at me, his eyes on my bag—

  “Wait!” Ramis wailed and the leprechaun halted before my eyes, my blade pointed at his neck. He moved back and alarm shone on his face at how quickly I would have struck him down.

  I pulled my gaze back to Ramis, his eyes lingering at the death blade on my hip. Took them long enough. The other leprechauns froze.

  “I’ve heard about you,” said Ramis, his yellow teeth bared. “You’re the Hunter, the angel-born Hunter with demon blood.” He took my silence as confirmation. “You’re more of a freak than we are.” He laughed, and the others joined him, but he laughed the hardest.

  “Oh, I have to disagree,” Tyrius said snidely. “I don’t think there’s anything more freakish than a band of half-naked, mullet-haired, all male leper-chauns.”

  Deep hatred flashed on Ramis’s face, but he turned to me and said, “I have a tender spot in my heart for freaks. Who you lookin’ for?”

  I kept my face from showing my surprise and pursed my lips, debating how much I should tell this leprechaun. “A faerie that goes by the name of Ugul. The faerie queen of the Dark Court sent me,” I admitted, watching the leprechaun’s fat fingers flex around his axe. There was no love there.

  “It’s why we’re here… in your tunnels.” I figured if these leprechauns claimed the tunnels as theirs, it meant they knew their way around Elysium. Our unlucky encounter could turn out to be very lucky indeed. I could use that.

  Ramis scratched his red beard. “How much does this faerie mean to you?”

  I didn’t like the smile on the leprechaun’s face. My grandmother’s livelihood depended on me finding this damn faerie, but I wasn’t about to share that with the leprechaun. “The faerie means nothing to me, but I do have a reputation. I said I’d get the job done, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep my word.”

  Ramis crossed his arms over his large chest and axe. “I know this faerie.”

  My heart leapt. “You do?”

  “Where is he?” demanded Tyrius. “Tell us.”

  Ramis’s smile never flickered as he said, “I can tell you where to find him, but you still need to pay the toll. It’ll cost ya double.”

  “Double! You scheming bastards,” spat Tyrius. “Let’s just waste these dicks and find him on our own.”

  I met Ramis’s gaze. His brow lifted at the hesitation that crossed my features. “How much?”

  Tyrius whirled on me. “Rowyn, no! These cronies are just like the fae—only uglier. You can’t trust them. You can’t believe anything out of their leper-chaun mouths.”

  “It’s not like we have a choice, Tyrius,” I told the cat. “I don’t want to be down here in this stinking place longer than necessary. They say they know where he is. So, let’s find out.”

  I waited for the leprechauns to stop whispering amongst each other. “How much,” I repeated when Ramis looked at me.

  Ramis was still grinning as he said, “Five hundred.”

  I clamped my jaw, feeling my blood pressure rising and making my head spin.

  “What!” shouted Tyrius. “You’re out of your freaking mind. There’s no way we’re going to pay that much. Tell them, Rowyn.”

  But Ramis kept talking as though the cat hadn’t spoken. “Two fifty for the toll and another two fifty to take you to the faerie. Without us, you’ll never find him. You know I’m right. I can see it in your eyes. You’ll be lost in Elysium. Forever.”

  Crap. He was right. He knew it. I knew it.

  “Fine.” I reached into my bag for my wallet, feeling Tyrius’s angry glare on me. I flipped through my wallet. “I don’t carry that much cash on me,” I said pulling out all the bills as I moved towards him. “I only have a hundred and twenty.”

  Ramis snatched the cash out of my hands. He counted it, seemingly satisfying that I wasn’t lying, and then jammed my money in his front jean pocket. “This’ll do.”

  I scowled, peeved that I knew he would have probably taken a lot less.

  “This way,” said the gang leader, his smile wider.

  “Wait!” I called. “What about our way back? Once we get the faerie, how do we know which way is out?”

  “Yeah,” agreed Tyrius looking furious that I had actually given them all our cash.

  Ramis reached inside his pocket and flipped me a coin. “Leprechaun gold,” he said, as I caught it and turned the coin over in my hand. It was the size of a penny and looked more like copper than gold. I had heard of leprechaun gold before, but I’d always dismissed it as a myth. Like witches used amulets and talismans as conduits for specific magic, they said leprechauns used coins. Each coin had its own magical ability. And this one was our ticket out of this place. Rolling my fingers over it, I could feel indentations, but it was too dark to make them out. I could also feel a hole, right in the center.

  “The coin’ll get warmer the closer you are to the exit. Cold the further away.”

  “Right.” I pocketed the coin, hoping he wasn’t lying and hadn’t just duped me with a regular penny.

  With Ramis leading the way, we doubled back and followed him down the tunnel. The other three leprechauns trailed behind us, the big black-haired one still eyeing my bag whenever I turned to look behind me. Tyrius hissed and cursed with every step, but he was following. We didn’t have much choice.

  Then, to my surprise, Ramis began whistling, very skillfully, just as the other leprechauns joined in. My skin was riddled in goose bumps. The sound was—beautiful and mesmerizing, reminding me of meadows swaying with wildflowers. The tune was so very different and felt odd in the dark tunnels. I had no idea leprechauns were so musically gifted.

  “What the hell is this?” mumbled Tyrius. “Disney’s Snow White and her four leper-chauns?”

  Ramis and the others never stopped whistling their tunes as they took us back the way we’d come. When we arrived back at the spot where the tunnels split into three, he took us through the tunnel on the right, the one Tyrius said he’d gotten a very bad vibe from.

  We arrived at the edge of a vast chamber that rose up fifty feet above our heads. The floor before us wasn’t the same compact dirt and dust, but water as cold and still as stone. In the center of the water was an island, a mountain of rock with a hole, a cave within a cave I realized. Soft golden light came from it, and I could smell the faint smoke of a fire.

  But the water was a problem.

  Just like real cats, baal demons hated water. It was more of a fear than an actual hate for it. I had never asked Tyrius why. I just assumed he didn’t like baths. And when I looked down at the cat, my chest clamped. Tyrius had gone still, his eyes fixed on the black waters. Fear shone in his blue eyes.

  “You sure this is the place?” I looked at Ramis, hoping he’d been wrong.

  “He’s there,” answered the leprechaun pointing at the stone island. “He’s been living here for the past eighty years. He’s the only faerie to live down here. Never bothered to ask him why. He keeps to himself.”

  Slowly I exhaled. “How do I know you’re not lying?”

  Ramis arched a red bushy eyebrow. “You don’t.” He watched me for a moment. “He’s there.”

  I looked over to the water, which was eerily still, like a black mirror. “How deep is this water?”

  Ramis shrugged. “Don’t know. The faerie uses a boat to get to shore.”

  Sure enough, when I looked again, I spotted a small rowboat tied to a tiny pier. My frustration doubled when I knew what a boat meant. A boat meant that the water was too deep to walk.

  Damn. I would have to swim.

  “Looks like you’re gonna go for a swim,” laughed the leprechaun with the silver hair and goatee, reading my mind exactly. “I hope he’s worth it.”

  “He better be worth it,” grumbled Tyrius, but he still hadn’t moved.

  Looking across t
he eerie water, I wondered if or how many of the fae had tried and failed to cross. Maybe they’d never made it this far. Maybe they took the wrong tunnel and got swallowed up by a Rift. Oh well.

  “Don’t stay too long in the water,” Ramis called.

  I turned around, fighting with my growing fear. “Why not?”

  The leprechaun was watching the water with anxiety in his eyes. “I would hurry if I was you.” He flashed me his rotten teeth. “Good luck, sweetheart. You’re gonna need it.”

  Before I could ask him more about this water, Ramis and his fellow leprechauns turned and disappeared through the tunnel, leaving only the faint whistling as a memory that they’d actually been there until I couldn’t hear it anymore.

  I let out a long breath and knelt next to Tyrius. “Do you want to wait for me here? I understand if you don’t want to come.”

  “Absolutely not!” Tyrius spun and faced me. “Are you crazy? There’s no way I’m letting you go to the island alone. I just… I’ll be needing a ride, thank you.”

  He leapt to my shoulders and draped himself around the back of my neck like a furry scarf. The heat from his body sent much needed warmth through me, a welcomed comfort in the cold, musty cave.

  “Hang on,” I said as I straightened and made my way to the water’s edge. I made a face. “The water smells nasty. It smells like carrion and death.”

  “And you’re about to take a bath in it,” commented the cat. “Nice.”

  “Keep it up, kitty, and I just might slip and fall in,” I said, “with you.”

  Tyrius clamped his mouth shut, nudging his cold nose against my neck. “I think it’s about waist-deep,” he said, his breath tickling my jaw. “Try and slip in as quietly as you can. We don’t want to disturb whatever’s in there.”

  “No,” I exhaled. “We don’t.” I never liked going swimming where I couldn’t see the bottom. I always imagined there was a great white shark waiting to chomp me into tiny pieces. Note to self—stop watching Jaws.