I stood and raised pickaxe, then let it fly one more time. The spike punctured the forehead, and the skull shattered like porcelain. A deep thump reverberated through the cave. The air around me seemed to vibrate.
One down, four to go.
I staggered to the second stalagmite, the second cornerstone. Then proceeded to beat the crap out of it, too.
Buried in the rock, another hominid skull crumbled to pieces around the spike of my pickaxe. The cave rumbled, and I staggered sideways as dust sprinkled down from the ceiling. Behind me, ripples spread out across the pool’s glassy surface.
Two down.
Panting now, I slogged to the third one, raised my axe, and buried the steel up to the hilt. The spire broke open around it, cracking like glass.
Another skull.
I bashed it in, pulverizing the embedded fragments into the cave floor.
Another seismic tremor rocked the cave. A sliver of limestone cleaved off an overhanging stalactite, hurtling down like a spear. It exploded on the floor inches from where I stood.
Going to have to do better than that.
Three down.
I bashed in the fourth stalagmite, busted the skull inside. Like nothing.
Its base destroyed, the pillar of limestone fissured and tipped sideways, crashing through more mineral spires before it shattered against the ground.
Around me, an unearthly moan rose through the cavern, the wind screaming through the tiny exit hole as it evacuated the cave. My ears popped as the pressure dropped, before the wind all came howling back with a chest-crushing thump.
Four down.
I paused at the fifth, the final pillar, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, wheezing in the limestone dust. Last one.
I drove the spike down with everything I had. The steel sparked on the rock, chipped off whole chunks, crushed them. The fifth hominid skull cracked down the middle and exploded into dust.
The anomaly ruptured.
In front of me, the space inside the pillars seemed to cave in to nothing, creating a whirlpool in midair. The space contorted, spinning and tightening until it cinched shut.
And then it exploded.
A shockwave slammed me in the chest. I was lifted off my feet and jettisoned across the cave and into the pool. Limestone dust swept over me, and across the cave, dozens and dozens of stalactites broke off from the ceiling, shattering against the ground. The sound of it all was deafening. I covered my head.
Yeah, destroying their portals always caused a kickback.
But it was done.
I coughed, gasping for breath as I dragged myself out of the pool and rested against my pack. I grinned into the darkness.
One less doorway to hell.
Lana
Sometimes I found it hypnotizing to watch time like a human might. And sometimes, like right now, it was agony.
My body swayed inside the bus as trees and houses blurred by. One hour and fifty-seven minutes had passed since I got inside this hellacious machine.
My hands squeezed my thighs, my fingernails digging into the leather. The smell of all these tightly packed bodies, the walls that seemed to close in on all sides, the unnatural speed of this thing—it was all the most acute kind of torture.
Buses could rot in the flames of Abyssos.
Slowly the town of White Sulfur Springs rolled into view. One sad building followed the next. The whole place looked as though it had just given up. I wondered how much of it was my people’s fault. Magic always came at a price.
These people had more than likely paid their fair share.
The bus shuddered to a stop in front of a boarded up store. As soon as the vehicle’s doors hissed open, I fought the urge to jump out of my seat and claw my way past the bus’s other occupants just to get through first. Instead I stood and took my time shuffling into the aisle, pretending I was bored rather than barely keeping my anxiety and the contents of my stomach down. And I tried not to gasp in my first breaths of fresh air once I left the bus.
I made my way between the buildings. Beyond them, the wilderness stretched on. As soon as I hit the tree line, I tightened my satchel, and then I ran.
The wind of this world felt the same as mine, the ground felt the same. If it weren’t for the absence of magic that my homeland was steeped in, I could almost believe the two worlds were the same.
But this one wasn’t war-torn. Not like mine.
So many humans. And they were thriving. So few of us. And we were dying.
I passed a tree shaped like a trident, which marked the end of my run. The portal was just up ahead.
The smell of exhaust pulled me up short.
Wrong.
That smell didn’t belong here.
I continued forward slower this time, sheltering my form behind tree trunks, just to be safe. I was nearly to the caves. So close to home I could almost taste it.
I scented the air again, and again I smelled the exhaust right before I saw the car.
A big heifer of a vehicle. It’d been parked alongside the overgrown dirt road I thought was abandoned.
Apparently it wasn’t.
Infernari didn’t travel by car. Which meant . . .
Humans.
I hid behind a tree, pressing my chest against the rough bark.
As a human might say, fuck me.
Crossing worlds was hard enough on its own. Now I had a human to deal with.
I’d never encountered this particular issue before.
I could always resolve the situation with magic, but there were those that looked for such disturbances. They’d follow the residual magic left behind like carrion to a kill. And this close to a doorway . . .
No, no magic.
I could simply chance it; I could assume that whoever had found themselves here would not be near the caves. That they would not see a strange girl disappear belowground without any sort of human tools to accompany her. Or if they did, that they would not ask those questions they were so infamous for.
Assuming was just another sort of risk I was unwilling to take.
I fixated on the car as I moved about the trees, keeping my footsteps silent like I’d learned to as a child. And then—
The car rocked.
I must’ve imagined it. But, even as I tried to reassure myself, I saw it shake again, like something was inside it.
The owner? Please, Great Mother above, let that be the owner. Then, after they were done with whatever nonsense had brought them out here, so far from their beloved cities, they’d drive away and I would not have to waste any additional time waiting or investigating.
The car shook harder, and then a sound from within it rose.
Something that sounded a lot like a pained cry.
What in all the worlds?
My eyes searched the car over again, noticing all the details that I didn’t see at first blush. This wasn’t just any vehicle. Normally the natives made cars from fairly rickety materials. Not this one. It was armored. And then came that horrible cry again, like the sound of a wounded creature, and it came from inside the vehicle.
Reflexively, my hand went to one of my weapons.
Sometimes humans ventured out to wild areas like this one, seeking adventure. But this wasn’t an adventurous human.
This was something else entirely.
Use caution, they’re crafty.
I waited.
More noises came from the car. The healer in me found them hard to ignore, even if it was a human that made them.
Perhaps the owner of the vehicle was hurt and could not drive away. I would be waiting quite a long time if that were the case. Making a quick decision, I dropped my satchel behind the tree. I would see what I could do.
&nb
sp; Still, I pulled my daggers out.
Injured or not, this was a conniving human. I wouldn’t put it past them to harm me even as I helped them.
Twigs and underbrush snapped in the distance, and my head jerked toward its source. Humans had culled most of their fellow creatures, but things still lived in the wild areas, things I might need to use magic against.
Now on guard, I twirled my weapons between my fingers as I crept to the car, a nervous habit of mine masked as an intimidation tactic.
Believe you are dangerous and, more importantly, make sure your enemy believes it.
My father’s words echoed in my head as I circled the vehicle.
He’d made sure everyone knew just how dangerous he was.
More foliage crunched close by. Again I peered toward its source, my senses heightened by fear, for now I could make out the distinct sound of footsteps—
I felt it then, that nervous tingling at the base of my spine.
Not one of us.
Human.
It was coming straight toward me.
In a rush I slid the daggers back into their sheaths and sprinted for the tree line, my footsteps silent, unlike the blundering human heading this way.
Whoever it was, they were still far enough from the vehicle that I managed to slip back to my original lookout unseen.
Hidden once more behind the tree, I peered at the car. I could still hear the tormented cries of the native inside the vehicle. Perhaps the person heading this way was a friend. Perhaps they were bringing help with them. Perhaps I would not need to intervene, and I could go home soon.
The injured human made more noise, all of it indistinct.
Muffled, I realized.
I hadn’t heard them sooner because their cries had been muffled.
A friend wouldn’t muffle his injured comrade. He’d want people to hear so that help could come sooner.
Foe.
I didn’t have time to think of the implications before a great beast of a man cleared the forest to my right.
I was wrong to think the person tromping through the woods was a blundering human. I stared at the man as he headed to the vehicle, utterly captivated. He was human, yes, but fearsome. Someone like that wouldn’t have to mask their presence. He was surely the most dangerous thing out here.
Other than me, that was.
I watched him cross to his car, my heart in my throat. I couldn’t say why exactly I was so terrified. Besides the fact that physically he was bigger than me, he couldn’t possibly wield the kind of magic I could.
But he had that look about him, the same look mercenaries and assassins of my world had. Fierce. Stoic. Frightening. Only on a human face it looked particularly cruel and emotionless.
Shame he was handsome. Those features were wasted on someone who would slit your throat before he’d make small talk.
He moved to the rear of the car, which directly faced me. I took in the broad expanse of his corded back as he removed his helmet, setting it on the roof of his car before he unlocked the doors. It was odd, seeing a human that strong, that toned. Most of them looked soft, domesticated.
Not this one.
He swung the rear doors open.
Finally I caught sight of the person inside.
I shoved my fist into my mouth to silence my cry.
That wasn’t an injured human.
It was an Infernarus.
Chapter 3
Asher
Inside my Hummer, trussed up like a turkey, my prisoner winced against the light, his eyes still bruised from the beating I’d given him earlier to get the location of the portal.
In a bucket by the wheel well, his severed hands sloshed in an inch of blood.
Could never be too careful.
I fanned my nose against the stench of ash and blood. “Since you led me to the right spot,” I said, “I’ll make your death as quick and painless as possible.”
My prisoner thrashed against his bindings, jerking like a bull, rocking the truck back and forth. His duct-taped mouth screamed garbled obscenities.
“What was that?” I said, cupping my hand over my ear. “Buddy, you got to speak up.”
He screamed louder, his cries muffled by the tape.
“Nope, still can’t hear you—”
He managed to spit off the tape, which flapped under his hot breath. “You gave me your word, you filthy, cold-blooded, traitorous rat!”
“I’m not particularly insulted by that, actually,” I said, sliding out my hunting knife, tilting the blade up to the light.
In my periphery, a figure shrank behind a tree. My skin prickled.
No, just the shadows deepening.
“Have you no honor?” he spat. “Have you no pride?”
I leveled my eyes at him over the blade, no longer smiling. “Exterminating a creature that has no right to be on my planet—no right to exist—has nothing to do with honor or pride. There’s an infestation, and I’m dealing with it. End of story. I don’t have to think too hard on that.”
He glared at me. “You gave me your word.”
“Yeah, you said that. Starting to sound like a broken record.” I vaulted into the back of the car and advanced toward him.
He recoiled. “You and your doublespeak. It sickens me. Release me, human.”
“Logic. Let’s try it.” I held the knife to his throat, calculating the best angle to cut. “Two reasons I can’t let you go. One, you make portals. Kind of counterproductive, if you think about it.”
He jerked his head to the bucket. “I can’t make portals without my hands. Right now, I’m powerless.”
“Two, first thing you’re going to do is run home and tell all your aunties and sissies and cousies who I am. And I know you know who I am.”
The creature’s lips curled. “Jame Asher,” he spat. “Hunter of Infernari. Of course I know who you are. You’re supposed to be dead.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.” I sank the blade into his throat, and his last words died in a gurgle.
Lana
I pressed my palm to my mouth, forcing my scream back down my throat. This was some horrible nightmare. Jame Asher, the infamous Infernari hunter back from the grave. Back, and butchering Fidel, the portal master.
Asher sawed away at his neck. As if the hands weren’t enough
He’d taken Fidel’s power with his hands, and now he was taking his life.
A silent tear trickled down my cheek, then another.
I was surprised humans even had a word for honor if they were capable of this.
Save him while there’s still time.
A native might be beyond resurrection, but not us. The soul didn’t leave the vessel immediately. And while it lingered, a body could be repaired and life restored.
Dropping my hand from my mouth, I turned to my satchel, my resolve overriding my terror. I hurriedly unpacked all twenty-six blood bags, careful to keep my movements silent.
This blood was supposed to help dozens, if not hundreds, of lives.
Today, if I was lucky, it would save just one.
I began murmuring the old language under my breath, moving my trembling hands over the blood bags again and again, calling it to me. A wisp of smoke rose along with it. Immediately I felt the magic respond, drawing towards my fingertips and palms. I breathed deeply as I culled it.
Inside the bags, the blood began to bubble. Tiny, ethereal flames bloomed along the surface of the blood, blackening the plastic bags from the inside as I converted the liquid from its crude from to something more refined.
My major affinity was healing, and now I used that affinity to reach out to Fidel as I continued to cull, the magic building up in my veins.
He was dying;
I’d seen it, but now I could feel it. Like a fire starved of oxygen, his essence grew dimmer, dimmer . . .
I spared a brief glance over my shoulder. Asher had walked around to the driver side of the car, leaving Fidel unattended.
Perfect.
Turning back around, I forced the magic out of me, shoving it down the affinity-based connection I shared with Fidel.
I knew the moment my power found him. I felt his body jolt as though I shocked him. His essence still lingered beneath his flesh, just as I believed it would. It brushed against my magic, and even though I was petrified, and even though he was still in great danger, I smiled a little. Souls felt like sun on skin. Beautiful things.
I flooded his system with power, enough to jumpstart a stilled heart. Enough to bring the dead back to life. All the while I continued to draw out magic from the blood, funneling the chaotic power into a form I could use.
It took an obscene amount of magic to bring an Infernarus back to life, and this would take even more than usual. I had to waste some of it disguising the sight and smell of the blood as it combusted. It was what the natives called a parlor trick, an illusion that would lift as soon as I stopped pouring magic into it. But for now, it kept the human hunter’s focus off me.
I could sense, dimly, that Fidel’s head had found his body. The magic stitched the mutilated bits of flesh back together seamlessly. I felt him blink his eyes open, felt some base emotion that might’ve been wonder—or thanks. He knew help was here.
Now that he was sentient, it only took him seconds to collect his hands, and with my guidance, we merged them to his wrists. I assisted sealing the last of his wounds, and then I let him take full control of the magic I fed him.
I smiled a little. Jame Asher had picked the wrong day to hunt.
We’d see just how much the hunter enjoyed being hunted.
Asher
I reached into the front of my truck to get the rest of my supplies. On the passenger seat sat a canister of gasoline connected to a hose and a foot pump—best way to dispose of demons.
Blood and Sin (The Infernari Book 1) Page 2