Netherworld

by Amy Miles

  I could hear the Lorcan overturning headstones as it moved back towards Devlin. Tucking my blade into the sheath at my side, I began to climb. The pressure in my calf made the blood flow freely down into my boot, making it hard to keep from slipping.

  I climbed as fast as I could, reaching the domed roof within seconds of leaving Devlin’s side, but it felt like an eternity had passed. In the moonlight, I could see Tris standing not far from the entrance of the cemetery. She was knelt down beside Devlin’s friend as he writhed and cried out in pain. The Lorcan’s poison had already begun to spread.

  I knew that pain all too well.

  Below me, the beast shoved Devlin onto his back. He was still unconscious and limp, but the sight of blood along his hairline worried me because I was afraid the Lorcan’s claws had touched him. Judging by the lack of black poison, he had only been knocked down. Still, Devlin was very clearly hurt.

  I crouched low and forced myself to wait as the Lorcan prepared for its Death Kiss. Every part of me ached to jump in and save Devlin, but if I moved too soon we’d both be dead.

  The telltale pop of the Lorcan jaw sent me scrambling towards the edge. I curled my fingers around the stone. When the outline of Devlin’s body began to grow fuzzy, I leapt.

  The impact of hitting the Lorcan’s armor plated shoulder knocked the air out of my lungs. I slammed hard to the ground, tasting dirt and rotted leaves left over from autumn. The Lorcan’s guttural cry sent me scrambling to the edge.

  It had landed on its back in the grave, wedged tight in the narrow space. Given the time, it would dig its way out. I reached for my dagger at my hip but found the sheath empty. Whirling around, I tried to see through the dark. I must have lost it when I shoved Devlin aside.

  I crawled over to him and felt around on the ground but came up empty-handed.

  “Think, Taryn.”

  I looked around in search of a weapon, but the only one that might be strong enough to pierce its flesh was wrought iron lance, but I didn’t have the strength to pry a bar loose.

  And then I saw it. Less than two feet from the hole was an uprooted headstone the Lorcan had hit when it first dove for us.

  I raced to it and tried to push it towards the hole, but it was far too heavy. Even using every bit of strength I had left in me, I barely made it shift.

  From the darkness below I could hear the Lorcan trying to move. It had begun to dig.

  There were no pipes or large tree branches around to use as leverage. The willow wood would be too soft anyways.

  I glanced at the mausoleum and remembered the iron cross I’d held onto to steady myself before I leapt. It had shifted in my hand, loosened by years of dismal weather.

  “About bloody time I get a break.” I ran back to the stone building and began to climb. This second trip was far harder than the first. The pain was returning with a vengeance and I felt as if I were shredding my leg all over again.

  Devlin’s friend would need the few herbs that remained in the pouch. I would have to sacrifice my own pain to keep him from death’s door.

  “Oh, bugger.” That thought sent ripples of terror through me. Death’s door…King Baylor would know about this.

  There wasn’t time to consider just how screwed I was as I reached the roof and positioned my good foot against the cross. I kicked at it and cried out in pain as the reverberations worked their way into my bad leg. Three more hard strikes sent the cross toppling to the ground.

  When I looked over the edge, I saw that one of the Lorcan’s hands had already created a deep gouge in the earth to allow it to maneuver slightly higher in the hole. I dropped to the ground, trying to keep my wounded calf higher so the impact would not force me to black out. My vision was wavy and my head spinning, but I crawled towards the cross and began to drag it to the hole.

  The snarling that echoed up from the small space was amplified as I passed by. Using both hands, I dug beneath the stone so there was room to shove the cross under the base.

  On the first push, the stone rose a few inches. Beads of sweat formed on my brow with each push, but I made very little headway.

  “For the love of the gods, move your heavy arse.” I threw myself on top of the cross, laying my chest over it, and the stone rose up. “Yes!”

  My cry of joy sent the Lorcan into a frenzy. Bits of earth near the top began to crumble and fall back into the hole.

  “Bloody hell.” Rising unsteadily to my feet, I knew I needed to hit the cross with as much weight and force as I could manage to finally tip the stone over into the hole.

  I looked at the willow nearby and sighed.

  “This is really going to hurt.”

  Reaching high to wrap the low hanging branches around my hands, I backed away. With a battle cry that would have made Eivin proud, I ran full out and leapt, swinging into the air. I made a wide arc and picked up speed. The branches pulled taut and for a moment I feared they’d snap under my weight, but they held firmly.

  As I swung towards the cross I knew I’d only get one shot at this. I’d either properly judge the dismount and hit dead centre on the cross or overshoot it and land right on top of the Lorcan. If I did that, I was as good as dead.

  “Come on,” I growled, arched my back, and leapt.

  I landed awkwardly on the cross, my bad foot slipping off, but the stone rose with enough height and force to send it teetering on the edge. I held my breath, praying for a miracle that came at the Lorcan’s hand. The side that it had been digging against caved in and sent the headstone crashing down.

  The snarls and grunts went silent as I rolled off the cross, feeling the ache in my backside from the abrupt landing. I was in bad shape by the time I crawled to the edge and saw the Lorcan disintegrate.

  I began to laugh, from relief and exhaustion.

  “Taryn!”

  I looked up to see Tris running my way. She stopped when she saw me panting for breath at the edge of the hole. Devlin’s still form lay not far away.

  “Is he…?”

  “No.” I shook my head, my throat tightening at the sight of him. I couldn’t stand to see him looking so helpless. “He should be fine. I’d wager he’s going to have a nasty headache when he wakes.”

  “Will he remember any of this?”

  I shrugged and winced at new waves of pain. “I canna say. I hope not. There are things no human should know.”

  “And what about you?” She hugged her arms around herself, rising on her toes to look into the hole. “You killed it, didn’t ya?”

  “Aye. Bloody hard work that was too.” I winced as I pushed up to my feet. My leg started to give out on me and Tris rushed forward.

  “Can ya tell me now how it is that the human over there canna see us, but that lad can?”

  “No. I wish I understood it, but I don’t. He just can, is all.”

  Tris’ eyes grew wide. “He knows your name, Taryn.”

  “Aye.” I limped past Devlin, hating to leave him behind like this, but his friend needed help and there was only one place he would get it. “All I can tell ya is that he’s different.”

  I wanted to tell her everything that had happened to me, to finally relieve this burden with someone who might stick around in my life, but she wouldn’t understand. She would judge me, feel that what I had done was wrong. I wouldn’t let her taint what little happiness I had gained from getting to know Devlin.

  “His friend, Seamus, is dying. We need to help him.”

  Her lips twisted into a frown of disapproval, but she didn’t push the issue. Not yet at least. I knew she would soon.

  When we arrived back at Seamus’ side it was hard to see the extent of the Lorcan damage. A large black and scrolling tattoo had been inked into his shoulder. It hid some of the damage.

  “He was screaming a lot,” Tris whispered when she helped me to the ground. “But then he fell still.”

  “The poison is close to his heart. It may already be too late.”

  I ripped the fabric of his
shirt to get a better look at the damage and heard Tris suck in a breath. I turned to stare at her. “Have you no decency? The lad is dying and you’re admiring the view?”

  She sniffed with indignation. “I canna help it if I like beautiful things.”

  Rolling my eyes, I ignored the hard planes of the guy’s chest and focused instead on the black trails that were visible through his skin in the moonlight. The poison had already begun to work its way along his neck and was beginning to trail down towards his heart.

  Reaching for the leather pouch at my side, I opened it and sprinkled the remaining contents into my hand.

  “There’s so little left,” Tris whispered.

  I nodded. “Pray that it will be enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  I gave her a look that told her not to argue with me. “To buy us some time. We need to get him more. We need to take him back to Eimear.”

  “You canna be serious. A human? In Netherworld? He would be killed on sight!”

  “Aye.” I nodded, standing up. “That’s why he’ll be staying with you. You’re gonna nurse him back to health.”

  The plan was insane, but it was the only way I could think to save Seamus. And to prove that Lorcan were attacking humans too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DEVLIN

  M Y HEAD THROBBED ITSELF into alertness before I fully awoke. Even without opening my eyes, I knew this was going to be one hell of a bloody hangover. I shifted position to try and ease the pain in my temples and my ribs ached in protest.

  Opening one eye, I searched for my blanket to ward off the chill. Instead of my bedcovers, I found nothing but a frost covered ground.

  “Stall the ball...Why am I outside?”

  I bolted upright and instantly regretted it. My hand went up to my head to cushion the pounding there. My mouth was dry and my clothes were manky from a night spent on the ground. Everything seemed to hurt as I pulled myself up to standing. Squinting against the dim light of the dawn, I looked around the cemetery. Had I slept here all night then?

  Nothing was making sense. “Think, mate.” The last thing I remembered was walking to the cemetery with Seamus after the fight at the pub. I’d had a few nips, but had it been enough to black out?

  One look around and I noticed Seamus was nowhere to be found, so he must have already gone on home. Or he’d passed out on the way back.

  That was where I needed to be. Home. In bed. I wouldn’t be able to think straight until this blasted headache was gone. It felt like I’d been bashed clear against my noggin. I must have taken a hit at the pub and not noticed. Adrenaline rushes could do that to ya.

  I kept half an eye out for Seamus as I walked home, but I was too tired to pay much mind. My guess was that he made it back to his da’s to pass out. He’d be safe there for now. His da would be passed out too. I’d see to it he’d come stay with us later when I could think clearer.

  Somehow I made it home in one piece. How I made it into the house without waking Ma or Da was the bigger mystery. I was sure I wasn’t being very quiet as I flopped across the floor.

  My bed squeaked as I fell into it, ready for the pain to be slept away.

  An unease nagged at me, or maybe that was the booze churning in my gut. Best not to think about it. Whatever it was, it could be sassed out later.

  I passed out hard, exhausted from whatever the hell had happened the night before. When I heard my name being called out what seemed like only a few minutes later, I groaned.

  “Devlin!” The light knocking on my door let me know it was Ma. “It’s time for breakfast, luv.”

  While I didn’t want to wake up, my stomach rumbled at the smell of bacon wafting up the stairs. Grease and hangovers worked well together.

  Yawning, I opened my eyes and winced at the pain that still lingered. Sitting up, I rubbed at my forehead and was shocked to find dried blood there.

  Ripping the covers off, I went to the bathroom to take a closer look. Blood ran from the base of my temple down to my jaw.

  That would be why my head hurt so bloody much. I still didn’t remember getting hit during the pub fight, but maybe I fell down at the cemetery? Had I been so sloshed with Seamus that I tripped and clocked my head on a headstone?

  Using a cloth, I cleaned away the line of caked on blood that had run down the side of my cheek. When it was cleared away only a small gash remained. Easily covered if I parted my hair the other way. Which I would. No sense in letting Ma see this. She’d only fret. After all, it was only a scratch.

  Dumping the cloth into the laundry bin, I winced. My side still hurt.

  Lifting up my shirt, I discovered a large bluish-gray bruise all along the side of my ribs.

  “Bugger.”

  What the hell happened last night?

  I went back to my room to try Seamus’ mobile, but it went right to voicemail. He’d likely let his battery run dry.

  Grabbing a fresh shirt from my dresser, I stopped short when a memory of something dark flashed before me. I jumped backwards ready to attack something that wasn’t there. “It was just your shadow, mate.”

  Somehow the words did little to reassure the rapid beating of my heart. Something wasn’t right. It felt like I was forgetting something important.

  As I was turning to go to breakfast an image hit me so hard I almost fell over. Seamus…and that thing.

  I flew down the stairs, passing Ma, who was at the stove frying up some eggs.

  “Devlin, where are you going? Breakfast is ready!”

  I didn’t stop to explain. Not that I could have even if I wanted to. I mean, what would I have said, ‘Sorry, Ma. Gotta run. Need to make sure my best mate wasn’t eaten by a grizzly bear.’

  It wasn’t a bear, that much I knew, but it wasn’t any sort of animal I’d ever seen before either, so what exactly was it? My feet slowed as I tried to remember more. Taryn was there…and that other girl, Tris. Or had I dreamt it all? Bloody hell! Why couldn’t I remember? I had to find Seamus.

  My fist began pounding on the door as soon as I got to his da’s. There was no answer, so I pounded again. I heard cursing from inside and a moment later Mr. Duffy opened the door. The smell of stale booze wafted off him, causing my stomach to lurch.

  “Piss off, lad,” his da slurred. He was in a dark green robe that wasn’t tied. A dingy white tank poked out from underneath it. His thinning hair stood up in all directions as though he hadn’t showered in weeks.

  “I need to talk to Seamus.”

  “Then call him on his bloody mobile,” he said, trying to shut the door on me.

  “I’ve tried that. He’s not answering.”

  “Then he’s likely out rattling the bones of some bird. He’s not here.”

  “I’d like to check that for myself if ya don’t mind.”

  Not waiting for a reply, I pushed the door open and shoved his da out of the way. He stumbled a few steps backwards, almost knocking over a lamp on the table beside him.

  I took the stairs two at a time, shouting for Seamus while his da was cursing at me for barging in. I wouldn’t take long. Ten minutes tops. I only needed to know what happened last night and that he was okay. Then I’d leave them both in peace.

  His room, however, was empty. His bed, though messy, still didn’t look as though it had been slept in.

  “Seamus!” I called again.

  “I told you he wasn’t here. The ungrateful bastard never came home last night. If he knows what’s good for him he’ll stay the hell away, too. He’s done mooching off me.” Mr. Duffy pointed his finger at me. “Now you get the hell out of my house or—” His hand reached for a bat near the door.

  “Or you’ll hit me, too?” I spat.

  It was so hard to see Mr. Duffy like this. This wasn’t the man Alana and I grew up with. That man was jovial and full of life; he loved to play catch with the three of us while Seamus’ ma worked out in the garden. Of course, that was what drove him over the edge, when he lost his wife. Everything cha
nged that day. We all saw it. I guess Seamus most of all.

  “You get out of my house!” Mr. Duffy shouted, taking a few wobbly steps up the stairs. I couldn’t tell if he was newly drunk or still drunk from the night before.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me where he is.”

  “My son is a freeloading waste of space. He’s not welcome here and neither are you.”

  The upswing of the bat came then, just as I imagined it would. I caught the bat with my hand easily enough as his aim was shot due to his condition. He lost his footing and fell a few steps to the ground, shattering the empty beer bottle he had stowed in his robe pocket.

  I tried to help him back up, but he started to swing the bat again in a haphazard way. Seeing no choice, I left. I knew he wouldn’t follow after me. He wouldn’t have the strength.

  Where the hell was Seamus?

  If he wasn’t at home, then he could only be at the pub or the gym. I glanced at the time on my mobile. The pub wouldn’t be open until eleven and after the scene we’d made last night, I couldn’t imagine he’d be going back there anytime soon. The gym made the most sense. He’d likely have some aggression he’d want to get out.

  When the gym turned out to be a dead end, I began to panic. I debated if I should tell the cops. Was it too soon to file a missing person report? Could he be in the hospital? Not likely. I opted to go back to the cemetery. Maybe he was there and I missed him. He was likely curled up at the base of a willow tree as anything.

  My feet found their way back to the cemetery in quick time even though my side ached from the jog over. My stomach roared with hunger as I pushed my way through the gate of the cemetery. The sun was higher in the sky now, so I could see the grounds more clearly and what I saw made my skin grow pale. It looked like a war zone. The earth dug up and overturned headstones scattered the area near where Seamus had been last night.

  My pace slowed as I walked over to the closest stone. I knelt down, placing my hand on the edge of it to see how extensive the damage was. It was insanity. The headstones looked as though it had been ripped right out of the ground and tossed to the side like a toy. But how? No human was strong enough to do what lay before me, and yet here it was.