Wrong Side of Hell (The DeathSpeaker Codex Book 1)

by Sonya Bateman

“No. He’ll come back,” she said faintly. “I hope.”

  “Oh, good. Can’t wait for that.” I shook my head and started cleaning the post-op mess. “What about you?” I said. “Got any bullets you need butchered out? Apparently I’m running a special today.”

  She laughed, but it turned into a wince. “Man, that hurts. I’m good, though,” she said. “They went through. I’m just slightly poisoned, and I might have a broken bone or two.”

  “Is that all?” I flashed a sarcastic smile. “Not sure I’m ever getting used to hanging around people who can walk around and shout after multiple gunshot wounds.”

  “Yeah. I’m still not used to being shot multiple times.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry,” I said. “Pretty insensitive, right?”

  She smiled. “Not really. You saved me—even though I told you not to,” she added in a mock-stern tone. “But I’m glad you didn’t listen. Thank you.”

  I tried to pretend my blood wasn’t heating the back of my neck. “Any time,” I said.

  “But let’s not do that again.” Her smile turned to exasperation. “You’re half Unseelie, and Taeral’s brother, and the DeathSpeaker. Everything I should stay far away from. It figures,” she said.

  “What figures?”

  “That I like you so damned much.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t sure I’d actually spoken aloud, so I cleared my throat. “I, er… I like you, too.”

  “Gosh, Gideon.” Her lips quirked faintly. “You sure know how to make a girl feel wanted. How do the ladies resist you?”

  I smirked back. “Effortlessly, most of the time.”

  “I can see why. Is your middle name Oblivious?”

  I was saved from answering that when Taeral staggered back in. He was still non-human, all blue and thorny with gold-ringed black eyes, but he’d put on a fresh pair of pants. He carried a bottle in each hand—one filled with amber liquid, the other a rich blood red. It looked like it might actually be blood.

  Sadie gave a loud sigh. “Seriously, Taeral. Is ‘get drunk’ your answer to everything?”

  “Elderberry wine weakens the effects of cold iron poisoning.” With a weighted stare, he thrust the amber bottle at her. “Ivy and apple bough. Helps to neutralize silver.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. If I’d the stomach for it at the moment, I’d choose to get drunk.” He lowered himself carefully to the floor, sat cross-legged and pulled the cork out with his teeth. A long drink emptied half the bottle. Finally, he looked at me and said, “I suppose I’ve you to thank for saving my life. Though you’re the one who risked it in the first place.”

  I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or pissed off that he was back to his normal, abrasive self, only a little more blue and pointy. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to do that,” I said.

  “And if I hadn’t, you’d both be there still.”

  “Maybe. But Sadie definitely would’ve been, if you got what you wanted.”

  “Hold on,” Sadie said. “Taeral…you wanted them to keep me there?”

  He flinched and closed his eyes. “No, a’ghrael,” he said softly. “I’d not wanted that. I only meant to keep him from walking into the lions’ den.”

  Her face changed. “Yeah, I tried that too. It didn’t work.”

  “He is a willful, stubborn fool.”

  “Great. Thanks,” I said. “If I’m such a piece of shit, why bother coming after me?”

  “Because I must!” His eyes flashed fire, and he struggled to rein himself back in. “Since the moment I found you, I’ve sworn to keep you safe,” he snarled. “If your life is in danger, I must protect it.”

  “Listen, if keeping me safe means throwing me down a well, then don’t do me any more favors,” I said. “Whatever you swore, un-swear it.”

  “I cannot do that.”

  Sadie coughed deliberately. “Did you say he threw you down a well?”

  “And cuffed me. With cold iron.” I glared at him. “Why can’t you do that?” I said. “It’s easy. Just stop protecting me.”

  “I won’t. I’ve sworn to it. When a Fae makes a gealht, a promise, it is binding and eternal—and there are consequences for breaking it.” He looked at me with something that approached a smile. “Besides. You may be foolish and headstrong…but you are my brother. That, more than the rest, is why I’ll keep you safe. Even if it kills me.” He smirked. “A feat you seem determined to accomplish.”

  All my anger drained, and I couldn’t come up with a thing to say. I remembered thinking he was barely a brother. But he’d put his life on the line for me. He was willing to die for me, and he didn’t even know me. From the moment I found you…

  That moment was a few hours after I was born. The first time he’d saved me from Milus Dei.

  “Taeral, I…”

  He held up a hand, and then offered me the bottle. “Drink.”

  It was probably a better idea than speaking right now. I didn’t think I could without choking on the words. So I took the bottle, tipped it in thanks, and drank.

  The stuff inside was amazing. Velvet and honey with a bittersweet tang—and if there was alcohol, I couldn’t taste it. “Where have you been all my life?” I murmured, and took another healthy swig before I handed it back.

  “It’s only made in Arcadia.” Taeral closed his eyes, like he was remembering something painful.

  I wondered if now was a good time to mention that Daoin was still alive. I’d have to tell him soon. But before I could get the words straight, Sadie suddenly leaned forward with an alarmed expression. “Taeral,” she said, and waited until he looked at her. “They have a Seelie noble.”

  He frowned. “They’ve captured a noble?”

  “He’s not captured. He’s working for them, willingly.”

  “Do you know his name? Did he…interrogate you?”

  “He tried. But I didn’t give him anything.” A dark cloud passed over her face. “His name is Reun.”

  “By the gods.” The bottle fell from his fingers and shattered on the floor, but Taeral didn’t seem to notice. “It was too easy,” he said roughly. “I knew it. They let us go.”

  I gaped at him. “That was easy?”

  “Yes! They’ve far more resources than what they sent against us. And you…perhaps it’s not yet widely known what you are. They’d have cut you down with machine guns, or filled the building with poison gas. They would kill their own people to have you.” He bowed his head. “I’ve not the strength. Gideon…nochtaan.”

  “Um. What?”

  “Say it.” He looked at Sadie. “To her.”

  She glared. “Why me?”

  “Because you were in contact with Reun! The most powerful hunter on the Seelie Court.” He shuddered. “He’ll not hurt you with the word. It will only reveal what’s been done, if anything has.”

  “All right,” she said reluctantly. “Do it.”

  I nodded and gestured at her. “Nochtaan.”

  Like Taeral’s arm when he healed me, blue-white light traced a rune on her chest.

  She yelped and jerked back, brushing frantically at the symbol. “Oh, God, what is that?” she moaned. “Get it off me!”

  “It is a tracking spell.” Taeral’s lips barely moved. “Staad.”

  Nothing happened. I repeated the word, and the rune vanished.

  “They wanted the Hive.” He stood slowly, staring in horror at nothing in particular. “We must warn Grygg. Warn everyone. With Reun, they can—”

  A horrible wailing sound from outside the tent cut him off. It sounded like a dozen people being tortured under a tin roof, with nails across a chalkboard thrown in for good measure. I’d never heard anything like it.

  “The boundary alarm,” Sadie gasped.

  “We’re too late,” Taeral said. “They’re already here.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “No!” Sadie jumped to her feet. “Gideon, change me. Do you still have the guns? We’ll—”

/>   Taeral moved damned fast for someone who’d just been riddled with poisoned bullets. Before she could finish the sentence, he’d grabbed her and wrapped both arms around her. “I’ll not allow you to commit suicide, a’ghrael. We go to the shelter.”

  “Let me go!” She squirmed in his grasp, but she was still too weakened to fight. Even I could see that. “I’m going to tear every one of those bastards apart. I swear to God.”

  “Sadie, listen to me. Please.”

  She stopped moving. In the silence, sounds filtered from outside—bursts of gunfire, shouting and screams, running and crashing and breaking.

  Every part of me wanted to go with Sadie’s plan and kill them all. But I’d hear Taeral out first.

  “You cannot change in this condition,” he said almost gently. “The moonstone is spent, and Gideon nearly so. I’ve not enough spark to hold a simple glamour. We’ll not be able to stop them—and if we attempt to, they’ll capture us all.”

  “We have to try! Can’t you hear them out there?”

  “They’ll not kill anyone. You know this.” Taeral’s grip eased, but Sadie didn’t move. “We’re better served to protect the DeathSpeaker,” he said, and met my gaze. “If he falls, we are all lost.”

  Sadie shuddered and turned to face him with angry eyes and quivering lips. “It’s my fault,” she whispered shakily. “I brought them here. I led them straight to us…to everyone.”

  “Do not blame yourself.” He tilted her chin up with a finger. “Reun did this. He is a traitor to his race, to all of us. He’s given them power they were never meant to wield. This is not your fault.”

  She sobbed and fell against him, and he stroked her hair tenderly.

  “Uh, guys?” I said. “It’s great that you’re getting along. But if we’re going to run, maybe we should get started on that. Like now.”

  Sadie stiffened and pulled herself together, swiping her eyes with a furious motion. “Fine,” she said. “The shelter.”

  “And somebody knows where that is. Right?”

  “I do.” Taeral moved to the tent flap, lifted it and peered out. “They’ve not come this far yet,” he said. “You have guns, you say?”

  “Two of ’em.”

  “Give me one.”

  I frowned and handed one over. “You know how to use this thing?”

  “Yes.” Holding the gun in his normal hand, he reached into a seemingly random pile of stuff with his metal hand and produced the knife he’d threatened me with the first time I was here—or one just like it. He tossed it to Sadie, and she caught it neatly. “Be ready to kill quickly,” he said. “They’ll not hesitate.”

  I took the other gun out and made sure my blades were within easy reach.

  Taeral glanced outside again. “We’ve little time, and we must not be taken,” he said. “Do not stop to save anyone. Keep moving, and engage only when you must. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” I said, while Sadie gave a tight nod. I really didn’t like this plan. But I knew it was the best we could do with what we had, for now. I’d have to settle for rescuing everyone, not just Daoin, when this was over.

  I figured I’d wait until we were safe to share my intentions. That way Taeral could only yell at me—but right now, he might shoot me.

  “Come.” Taeral ducked out of the tent flap.

  And we followed him into hell.

  Chaos and terror reigned over the vast space of the market. Sporadic gunfire mixed with screams and the constant wail of the alarm, underscored by an echoing grind like ocean surf. That sound was fire—the stench of it hung thick in the air, and an eerie, flickering light marked its path in the near distance.

  They were burning the place to the ground.

  I shuddered and stayed close as we slipped down irregular alleys and between random structures—Taeral in the lead, then Sadie, with me trying to watch our flank. Most of the buildings were deserted, but I glimpsed two figures huddled in a stall behind a weapon of some sort that resembled a cannon. In another alley, something that looked like a child but probably wasn’t lurked in the shadows, watching with calm, dead eyes.

  Eventually we reached the clearing where the Duchenes had jumped me. Taeral paused at the edge, looking around warily. “Run,” he said. “Shoot anything that moves.”

  He bolted.

  Sadie and I followed, sprinting across the open space. I’d gotten about halfway when movement at the corner of my eye made me turn, only to see a man in full body armor step into the clearing and take aim.

  I shot first. And I missed—by a lot.

  Another gun went off. I was sure I’d feel the shot, and resigned to hoping he didn’t hit me anywhere crippling. But the man who had me in his sights jerked stiff and fell over with a gurgling thud.

  Taeral stood at the far side of the clearing with Sadie behind him, the gun he’d fired successfully still in his hand.

  “What is the matter with you?” he shouted as I ran toward them. “How could you miss him?”

  “I’m not so great at aiming,” I yelled back.

  “You were raised in a family of hunters!”

  “Yeah, well, they didn’t let me play with the guns.” I reached him and stopped short to catch my breath. “I’ve got my own methods, okay?”

  “Really. Do you simply wait until they run out of bullets?”

  As he spoke, something else moved to the left. Another bad guy—with his weapon pointed at Taeral.

  I lunged at him. Grabbed his wrist, pushed the gun against his throat and fired.

  Taeral’s brow lifted in approval. “That is equally effective.”

  “Works for me,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We plunged back into the twists and turns of the sprawling market. It wasn’t long before we reached the huge Greek column at the back corner of the place. Taeral slowed and held up a hand. “Here,” he said, advancing to the far side of the column. “There is a switch, hidden by magic. You’ll need to reveal it, Gideon. I’ve not the time to search.”

  “Right.” I frowned at the smooth, blank white stone surface. “So, uh…nochtaan, right?”

  Part of the stone vanished, leaving a hollow space that shimmered like hot pavement. Inside the space was a large toggle handle.

  Taeral reached in and pulled the toggle outward. There was a grinding sound as a dark hole opened in the ground at the base of the column. “Slide down,” he said. “Sadie, you should go first.”

  Slide? Why were we sliding?

  She sent him a nervous glance, then sat at the edge of the hole and put her feet down. “Oh. Got it,” she said, and pushed forward.

  The darkness swallowed her.

  “Gideon. Close the switch, and go. Do you recall the word?”

  “Staad,” I said. The column surface went solid again.

  He nodded. “Follow Sadie.”

  “If I have to,” I muttered. Disappearing into a dark hole in the ground didn’t seem very safe. But I took a seat where she had, and felt around carefully with a foot. It encountered something wide and solid—something I couldn’t see in the pitch black below.

  I drew a deep breath, and launched myself into nothing.

  CHAPTER 29

  The ride down was a heart-pounding thrill I would’ve paid good money to miss.

  Closing my eyes only made it worse. Whatever this slide was, it had no railings or sides, nothing to hold onto or slow down with. The smooth, polished surface zipped me along, carrying me faster through the dark. There had to be an end somewhere—but it looked like I wouldn’t be able to see it.

  How the hell was I going to stop?

  Just as I pictured myself splattering on the ground at the bottom of this thing, the surface beneath me took on a coarser texture and the breathless descent slowed. Light filtered in around me. I blinked at a fairly large, cave-like room with torches on the walls. Sadie stood at the foot of the slide, wearing distress like a glove.

  My momentum stopped on its own when I reached the bottom, and I got up f
ast to stay out of Taeral’s way. “What’s wrong?” I asked Sadie.

  Shaking her head, she gestured at the empty cavern. “There’s no one else down here,” she ground out. “Just us. They took everyone.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  “Look!”

  Before I could, a kind of whooshing glide announced Taeral’s arrival. He slowed to a stop and stood, glancing at each of us. “All right, then?”

  “Taeral, there’s no one else here,” Sadie said.

  He frowned. “There must be.”

  “Do you guys think I’m blind, or just stupid?”

  “Wait.” Taeral stared at something just beyond Sadie, a patch of shadows between two torches. “Murdoch,” he said. “Come out here.”

  The shadows released a chilling laugh. “Why should I?”

  “Because if you don’t, I’ll drag you out. In a way you’ll not enjoy.”

  “Good enough.” There was a shuffling sound, and part of the shadow detached and stepped into the light.

  It was the bogeyman.

  I remembered him. Nightmare of a face, bulging and lidless eye, big hole in the flesh over his jaw, rotted teeth showing through. But in the half-dark just before the light hit him, his face had looked normal.

  Murdoch the bogeyman grinned at Sadie. “Hey there, little sister,” he said. “Are you scared?”

  “No,” she said in a voice that quaked slightly.

  “Huh. Maybe I should ramp up the charm, then.”

  He turned into a woman—who bore a striking resemblance to Sadie.

  “It’s all your fault,” the bogeyman-woman thundered. “You were too weak. A disgrace to the pack.”

  Sadie cried out and stumbled back.

  “Enough, you bottom-feeding vermin!”

  At Taeral’s shout, the woman became Murdoch again. “She’s bitter, anyway,” he said with a shrug. “I like ’em sweet. Like your pretty boy, here.”

  He stared at me, and a vague sense of fear washed through my blood.

  I broke off the look and glanced at Taeral. “What the hell is he doing?”

  “His kind feeds on fear and pain. He’s the ability to sense your worst nightmares, and to make them manifest.”