Carved (The Road to Hell Series, Book 2)

by Brenda K. Davies

  “I don’t like that thing either,” Hawk said.

  I stared at the small blonde angel with the green eyes. “Why not?”

  “One, the room where she found it was creepy. Two, that angel at the truck stop was a bigger dick than you demons.”

  My eyebrows shot up at his statement, but I couldn’t stop the laughter that escaped me. Hawk’s shoulders relaxed. River smiled in her sleep, and from the corner of my eye, I saw the heads of the others turn in our direction. “I’ll agree with that statement,” I told him.

  He smiled at me, and I knew then that River had changed the dynamic between us all. I had somehow become more human in their eyes through my relationship with her. Two months ago, that would have infuriated me, but now I didn’t mind it as much. I actually liked these humans, and as long as they kept treating her well, we wouldn’t have a problem. If they turned against her, I’d kill them.

  “Are all angels like Azote was?” Hawk asked.

  “All the fallen ones are. They’re the only ones I’ve ever met.”

  Corson poked his head through the window. “They have to go to the bathroom, again.”

  The more bumps we hit, the more the humans had to stop. I gestured for Hawk to pull over to the side of the road. He parked the truck before a stone church with a gold cross on the front of it. The church appeared entirely intact except for the gaping hole where its roof used to be.

  River stirred, her eyelids fluttered open, and she rose from my lap. Her forehead furrowed and her mouth pursed when her gaze settled on the roofless church. She stared at it for a minute before looking at the angel on the dashboard. Something about her attention to the angel caused my skin to prick.

  She rubbed at her eyes and stifled a yawn. “Why are we stopping?”

  “The humans have to use the bathroom.”

  Her mouth quirked in a smile as she grabbed the door handle and pushed it open. I held the door for her while she climbed out of the truck. The other humans went toward the woods, but River headed for the church.

  “Don’t you have to go?” I asked.

  “In a minute,” she murmured.

  I scanned the trees and surrounding area, drawing in deep breaths of air as I scented and searched for a threat. The only smells I detected were burnt earth and the fresh vegetation drooping beneath the July sun. I stayed close by her side as she approached the church and walked around to one of the windows.

  Placing her hands against the side of her head at her temples, she rose on her toes to peer through the dirt-streaked, stained-glass window. My gaze went to the horizon as a flash of movement caught my attention. A doe with a fawn poked her head out from behind a house. Her ears perked up when she spotted us before she and her baby took off into the woods.

  Stepping away from the window, River turned and I walked with her toward the back of the building. A beam from the crumpled ceiling had torn a hole into the side of the wall when it had fallen.

  I grasped her arm when she went to climb the rocks spilling out of the hole. “What are you doing?”

  “I’d like to look around.”

  “It’s not safe in there.”

  “It is.”

  I could tell by the color of her eyes that she wasn’t having a vision, but something about the look she gave me caused me to release my hold on her and let her do what she needed to do. “I’ll go first,” I told her.

  She opened her mouth to protest but closed it again and stepped aside. I adjusted my feet as I walked across the pile of shifting stones. Standing on top of the thick layer of stone and wood, I surveyed the wreckage piled on the floor of the ruined church. The place reeked of mildew and rot, but I didn’t see anything unusual or hazardous below.

  Turning, I held my hand out to take hold of hers. I helped her to climb over the rocks and watched as her gaze roamed over the high walls before focusing on the couple feet of debris beneath our feet. She took a step forward, but I pulled her back and held her close as we climbed down to the floor of the church.

  “What has drawn you in here, River?” I inquired, my voice reverberating within the cavernous building.

  “I’m not sure if anything has.” She removed her hand from mine as she picked her way carefully forward.

  I followed her as she moved past the shattered remains of a couple of pews poking out from the rubble. She walked to the altar covered in wood and rotting shingling from the roof. Her frown deepened as she focused on the stained-glass window of an angel tucked behind and to the right of the altar. The angel’s blonde head was tipped back to the sky, her hands clasped in prayer and her green eyes vibrant in the sunlight filtering through the window.

  “It looks like the figurine you have in the truck,” I remarked.

  “It does,” she murmured.

  Her head tilted to the side as she seemed to be straining to hear or see something within the shadows and cobwebs hanging in what remained of the rafters. Rays of sunlight streamed through the stained-glass window, causing multiple colors to play over her tanned complexion and caressing her body in an almost loving manner.

  In that moment it seemed the world was as deeply connected to River, as she was to it. She’d said the loss of her bond to the earth and all things living would break her, turn her into something evil like Lucifer, and I believed her. I couldn’t feel her connection to life and the world around her, but I knew the bond I felt with the hounds, how intricate a piece of me it was, and what it would do to me if it was ever severed. I wouldn’t risk doing anything to her that could possibly destroy her link to the earth.

  Which meant there would be no turning her and no eternity for us.

  The hounds within me stirred as my fangs lengthened from the impulse to turn her, to make it so there could only be eternity for us. However, she would no longer be River if I did that and somehow ruined her connection to life. She may grow to hate me for it and it could make her become like her father. I would rather die than have that happen. I was going to have to continue to deny every one of my instincts for the rest of her fragile life.

  I watched her, mesmerized by her and the bliss she took in soaking in the warmth. I fed on death; she fed on life. That was the way it had to stay. A warm smile spread across her lips when she turned to focus on me.

  “Is that what drew you here?” I asked and waved a hand at the stained-glass angel.

  “Not everything is a vision or insight with me. Sometimes I’m simply curious. Despite its destruction, there is still something calming about this place.”

  She felt calm while all I wanted was to get out of this place. I had River now, because of that, I wouldn’t change the past, but I still hated these winged bastards and their creator for the chaos they had caused by throwing Lucifer out of Heaven rather than dealing with him themselves.

  Her hip bumped playfully against mine when she walked by me before she stepped up to move past the altar and toward a door at the back. She wiped away the cobwebs hanging from the doorjamb before taking hold of the knob. She pushed against the door, but it didn’t budge.

  “What an odd vine,” she murmured.

  Her fingers stretched out to brush over something I couldn’t see from my angle, but her words caused my blood to run cold. “No! Don’t touch it!” I shouted at her.

  I leapt onto the altar, racing across the debris toward her. Her hand was still stretched out when she turned toward me with a confused expression on her face. Before her fingers, the vine twisted and a piece of it shot toward her.

  She almost fell over when she took a step back and her heel caught on some debris. Arriving at her side, I grabbed her and spun her around as another vine lashed out at her. The vine hit me in the back. Its prickly red leaves sliced like shards of glass through my shirt and across my skin as it slid over my flesh.

  “Shit!” I exploded at the same time the vine released an audible cry of pleasure.

  Reaching behind me, my hand enclosed around a three-inch-thick vine as more of them shot out to try
to ensnare us. River gasped in my arms when a vine sliced across her cheek. Another cry from the plant filled the air. My fangs extended as blood beaded across her skin and rolled down her face.

  All of the red leaves stood up as one; they did an odd shimmying motion. I’d witnessed this kind of attack before when they’d been trapped deep within the bowels of Hell, feeding on whatever scraps were tossed their way. Now they had discovered a feast on Earth as the needle-like tendrils beneath the leaves rolled and vibrated eagerly.

  I pulled River closer in an attempt to shield her from the vines shooting out to slice over my skin. I grabbed one as it dug into the flesh of my wrist, slicing to the bone. Flames shot up my arm and around my back, searing into the plant and causing its pain-filled scream to echo in my ears. I tore my burning shirt away and tossed it aside before it could sear River.

  She threw her hands over her ears as flames tore across the vines, scorching the leaves and causing the screams to echo higher. I kept my flames away from her flesh, but she didn’t shrink from them, and then I realized flames were spreading over her arms too, rising and falling with mine.

  Her ability to release fire was fueled by her fear, but like her ability to control the flow of life, it appeared her fire also reacted to me. I didn’t know if she realized her flames were rising up to join with mine as she remained bent over with her head down against the vines. Like my flames didn’t hurt her, hers did not burn me.

  Releasing her, I took a step back. My breath caught when I realized how much of an angel she looked like with her head bowed low, her back hunched forward, and the flames on her back protecting her like folded wings tucked against her spine. Yet there was something entirely demon about her with those flames encircling her as she rose up before me.

  Unable to keep the fire away from her clothing this time, her shirt and bra fell away from her, baring her flesh to me. The shells on her necklace heated, but it didn’t break as the flames didn’t quite reach it.

  She focused on the vines still dancing and slithering across the wall, unable to decide if they were willing to brave coming at us again or go without the blood. Lifting my hand, I took the choice from them as I set fire to the rest of them. River raised her hand beside mine, adding her flames to the inferno.

  The vines withered and broke, screaming as they fell on the debris littering the floor. River’s hand fell away as the flames died and she stepped forward. She didn’t have to speak for me to know she intended to try to put the fire out; I grabbed hold of her arm before she could.

  “We have to get out of here,” I told her.

  “It’s going to catch on fire,” she protested.

  “We can’t stop that.” Smoke wafted up from the pile of debris beneath our feet as flames ate at the vines and crept toward what was left of the ceiling. “Come.”

  I lifted her so her chest was pressed to mine, keeping her as covered as I could with my body while I walked with her toward the hole we’d entered through. “Those things are dead, right?” she asked.

  “The ones in here are,” I answered.

  Her face paled. “In here?”

  “There will be more.”

  “Great.”

  I should have prepared her better, or I should have been better prepared, but I’d never expected for the seals to start falling at all, never mind so rapidly. The vines had been kept behind the sixth seal, which meant seals four and five had also fallen and their occupants were now free.

  The hounds. Still alive, I reassured myself, but something was seriously wrong if three more seals had been opened. How many more had fallen that we didn’t know about yet?

  Corson jumped through the hole, landing on the debris with his talons extended. His eyes darted around as he searched for a threat before noticing the flames licking toward the roof and crackling up from beneath the floor. Behind him, Hawk and Vargas came through the hole with their guns at the ready.

  “I heard screaming,” Corson said as he retracted his claws and rose to his full height.

  “Akalia vine,” I told him.

  His gaze slid past us to the growing fire. “Are you sure?”

  I glanced down at the blood drying on my arms and body before looking pointedly at the still-trickling trail of blood on River’s cheek. The flames danced in his orange eyes as his claws came out once more. Bale and Erin appeared at the top of the debris to stand beside Hawk and Vargas.

  “Give me your shirt,” I commanded Corson.

  Without hesitating, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. River glanced down at herself, her eyes widening as she realized the top half of her was naked against me. Her cheeks became redder than the fires around me as Corson handed over his shirt.

  “Your fire went across your back,” I told her as I turned her away and stood over her to keep her sheltered from the others. “It reacted to my fire.”

  “I see,” she mumbled as she tugged the shirt on. It fell nearly to her knees, making her appear smaller. “It’s only ever come from my palms before or up around my wrists toward my arms. The fire is growing stronger too.”

  “Yes, or at least around me it is.”

  “Is the akalia dead?” Corson demanded when I turned to face them again.

  “I hope so. I’m not in the habit of burning down churches,” River muttered as I helped her climb the rocks to join them.

  “That would kind of be like burning down your own home,” Corson said to her. The look she shot him would have made a human run away. Corson didn’t run, but he did take a step back. “Or not.”

  “Not, definitely not,” she said. Smoke floated like mist around us as we turned to watch the church burn.

  CHAPTER 32

  Kobal

  “Lucifer won’t stop until he’s opened all of the seals, will he?” Corson asked.

  I didn’t want to think it was true, that he wouldn’t be so stupid to open all of the seals, but I knew he wasn’t going to stop.

  “The seals?” Hawk asked.

  “The seals holding back the worst of Hell. The creatures even demons don’t want to deal with, but they have evolved over the years within the pits of Hell. Creatures that weren’t allowed to roam freely in Hell because of what they could do. My ancestors began locking them away hundreds of thousands of years ago, and now Lucifer is setting them free. You humans believed there were only seven seals, but there are a couple hundred of them.”

  Hawk blanched, Vargas kissed his cross, and against my side River trembled. “And all of those things are coming here?” Vargas asked.

  “With the akalia vine, we know at least the first six seals have been opened. I’m not sure how many more could have fallen. Some of the seals housed things that would never be able to survive up here as they thrive on shade and fire, but many of the others can survive here.”

  Erin planted her hands on her hips as she stared at me. “Why would Lucifer open the seals?”

  “If he can open the seals, he won’t have to come to Earth until it is completely overrun with the horrors of Hell and there is little opposition left to him here. Once he arrives, this world would be his for the taking. He knows the mess he will create; he simply doesn’t care. Part of the plan with River had been to try to lure him out of Hell. He won’t be lured out now. These creatures will wreak havoc on Earth and destroy as many humans and demons as possible before he rises,” I said.

  “Won’t they destroy him too when he rises?” Hawk inquired.

  “Not if he’s the one setting them free,” I replied. “They’ll follow him.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Hawk muttered and ran a hand over the stubble on his head.

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Corson said. “The gateway has to be closed.”

  River thrust out her chin when Bale and Corson looked toward her. Hawk and Vargas exchanged a glance with each other.

  “You can close the gateway?” Hawk inquired of her.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “They think
I might be able to, but no one knows for sure.”

  “If she can’t close the gateway and she can’t enter Hell…” Bale’s voice trailed off.

  I clenched my teeth to rein in my temper when River glared at Bale. I didn’t want River taking one step into the pit of Hell, but the alternatives weren’t any better, perhaps worse.

  I could take her from here now, return her to the wall, and we could make a stand there. However, I had to admit not even I could protect her from every abomination of Hell. Eventually, they would outnumber us and everything would be lost when they did.

  I may not care much for most of the humans, but looking back at Verin and Morax as they ran toward us, I knew I couldn’t sacrifice all of those who had depended on me just to keep River alive for a few more years, if we were lucky. Thousands upon thousands had died over the years to fight for me to take my place as the rightful king of Hell, and no matter how badly I wanted to keep River from what she was about to face, I could never turn my back on those who had been lost and the ones who still fought.

  River had become the heart I’d never realized I could have, but the demons gathered around me had been my friends, followers, and fighters for centuries and some, such as Corson, for over a millennium. They would never turn their backs on me in such a way. They would all die to protect River for me, and I would fight to the death for any of them.

  River wouldn’t walk away from this either. I would have to drag her kicking and screaming back to the wall. I’d seen the love she had for her brothers; she would do everything possible to ensure they had a future.

  She was growing stronger every day. Her fire ability was increasing. With her ability to draw on life, she’d tossed Azote onto his ass and heaved me into a tree, even though I’d been prepared for it. What would she be able to do with more time? But time was something we were running out of, and I had no way to get more of it for her if the seals continued to fall.