Hell on Earth (Hell on Earth, Book 1) (Hell on Earth Series)

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Hell on Earth (Hell on Earth, Book 1) (Hell on Earth Series) Page 26

by Brenda K. Davies


  The demon launched a punch at Hawk who ducked it. Hawk shouted something at them while Erin stepped forward with her hands raised as if to intervene. One of the demons shoved Erin back, which caused Hawk to lunge at him, but he still didn’t release whatever he held.

  Vargas caught Erin before she could crash into the porch banister. He set her back on her feet and pulled out his gun to aim it at the demon who had pushed her. If Vargas shot the demon, it could start a fight none of us were prepared to wage; one that might end with all the humans dead.

  Chapter Forty

  Wren

  “No!” I blurted and stepped forward, but I was too far away for any of them to hear me.

  Corson put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. Another demon tore the gun from Vargas’s grip before he could fire. Vargas whirled on him with a fury I’d never seen from the steadfast soldier.

  “What’s going on?” I breathed as Hawk and the others all started throwing punches at each other. “Why are they fighting?”

  The five demons and Hawk tumbled down the steps and into the front yard. Blood flew, tails thumped, and horns were jerked to the side as they beat each other with an enthusiasm that would result in only one survivor.

  Corson inspected the forest before turning his attention to me. “Stay here,” he said.

  “No, I’m coming with you.”

  “Not while they’re doing this. Right now, they don’t care who gets in their way. I don’t know what started it, but I’ll have an easier time straightening it out if I’m not worried about you.”

  He was right, and while they were busy brawling, someone had to keep an eye out for more enemies lurking in these woods.

  “I’ll stay and keep watch,” I told him and glanced over the barren trees once more.

  Bending, he kissed me before straightening. “Stay here until they’re done. I don’t sense anything nearby, but scream if something comes at you.”

  I frowned at him. “I don’t scream.”

  “I’ve heard you scream a time or two,” he replied with a wink.

  Before I could form a response, he strolled out of the woods and into the clearing. “What is going on here?” he demanded.

  No one acknowledged Corson’s arrival as he approached the ball of punching, kicking, and… yep, that one was biting another one’s leg like it was a chicken wing. The demon being bitten was trying to beat the demon off, but the cannibal wouldn’t let go.

  I would have laughed over the absurdity of it all if a cold sweat hadn’t begun to trickle down my spine. I’d seen the demons fight each other over something as simple as a beer, or their demon brew mjéod before. The Wilders occasionally clashed with each other too. We didn’t all live so closely with each other without someone getting irritable and someone else punching them.

  However, unlike the occasional fist fights I’d seen the demons wage, they appeared to be in this one to the death, and I’d never seen Hawk fight with them before. Ten minutes ago, Hawk was cracking jokes with Corson. Now he was throttling a demon with the apparent intent of popping the demon’s head off.

  As the demons moved closer to where I stood, I saw that one of them was clutching a black cloth before it was torn away. Vargas and Erin trailed behind the pack of demons, their eyes following that black thing like a dog followed a bone.

  I stepped forward when the screen door swung open and crashed off the side of the house. Someone shouted something from within. My heart lurched at the explosion of noise, and my eyes darted over the forest. Everyone knew better than to make so much noise. We spent most of our lives making as little sound as possible.

  Jolie raced out of the house and flew down the stairs with four backpacks in hand. She careened across the lawn with three Wilders on her heels. Spinning, she bashed two of the backpacks off Dana’s face. The blow staggered Dana back, but he quickly recovered and lunged at her.

  I understood some of the wrath on Dana’s face as he snatched one of the straps. No one stole another’s bag. If such a thing started happening between the Wilders, it would never end, and the fighting would never cease.

  We needed to be able to trust each other, and we especially had to trust each other with the few possessions we owned. We all shared food, bedding, water, and every other necessity we found, but the contents of our bags were ours. A person only picked up another’s bag to move it if it was necessary, and now Jolie held four of them.

  Something was horribly wrong here, but what?

  Chet circled behind Jolie and tackled her to the ground. He slammed her forehead off the ground and came up with two of the backpacks. My hand went to the gun at my side with the intent of firing a warning shot, and hopefully stopping this, but I didn’t pull the weapon free. If I shot right now, I’d give away my location, and I couldn’t do that until I had a better idea why everyone had suddenly gone insane.

  Dana punched Chet in the face. A cracking sound echoed across the clearing and blood burst from Chet’s nose. His hands flew to his face as from within the house, shouts resonated.

  Corson stopped at the edge of the brawling figures. He grabbed two demons by their shirts and heaved them aside. My breath caught when Hawk swung at him. Dodging the punch, a look of disbelief flashed across Corson’s face before his eyes darkened with rage. Hawk swung again, but this time Corson caught his hand and threw him back.

  Caim uncoiled from his relaxed position on the porch roof. He removed his sunglasses, set them down, and crawled forward. His head tilted to the side as he watched the melee unfolding below him from the edge of the roof.

  Our tiny chance of being able to remain hidden here vanished when a gunshot sounded from within the house and someone screamed. Caim took flight and landed on the ground as more humans stumbled out the doorway of the residence, followed by more demons. One of the demons had a hand pressed against the bleeding hole in the center of his forehead. The injured demon lunged at another demon and tore his arm off.

  Lix bolted out the door, his sword over his head. Leaping into the air, Lix plunged his blade through the demon’s heart just as the demon lifted the arm to beat my friend Darcy with it. Darcy scrambled away. Bale and Shax emerged behind Lix, but they didn’t pay any attention to the skellein as they were busy fighting three other demons. Caim hurried forward and pulled one of the demons away, but when the demon kicked at him, Caim became caught up in the brawl too.

  Chaos ruled so completely I didn’t realize Corson and Hawk were now pummeling each other until Hawk released a startled cry. My hand flew to my mouth when I saw that Corson had driven his talons straight through Hawk’s chest.

  Never had I thought to see Corson turn on one of his friends in such a way, but he showed no remorse as he placed his foot on Hawk’s stomach. When he shoved Hawk back, he ripped his talons free. Lurching to his feet, Hawk glanced at the bloody holes in his chest before his face contorted in fury and he launched at Corson.

  What is going on? This was not Corson or Hawk or Jolie or any of them. Something was making them act like this, and I had the sick feeling I knew what it might be.

  Edging backward, I crept away from the house and deeper into the trees. When I’d last seen them, the horsemen had been leaving the gateway with their following of assorted creatures, but I suspected one of them had found their way to us.

  I recalled the way Lust had dug her power into me until it became almost impossible for me to breathe. Recalled that I would have taken Corson then and there and not cared who saw us. I’d been on the verge of losing all control, and Lust had only been toying with us.

  A horseman determined to annihilate could easily turn friend against friend, and it had to be one of the horsemen causing this. But which one was it? Wrath, War, Greed, maybe Envy? For all I knew, it could be all of them working together to destroy my loved ones.

  Adrenaline pounded through my veins, but my hand remained steady when I pulled my knife free and switched it into my left hand. I’d spent many days and hours training with
weapons over the years. I could wield a knife as well with my left hand as I could with my right.

  No matter how much training I put myself through though, my aim with a gun remained better with my right hand. My arrows would be quieter and less likely to draw attention to me, but I would never be able to fire them as quickly as I could a gun, and speed would probably be a necessity.

  Pulling my gun free of its holster, I held it at my side as I stole through the woods.

  The only way to kill a horseman would be to take its head, like every other demon, but a gunshot would hurt the thing and maybe scare it away.

  Not likely.

  I didn’t think anything scared the horsemen, and if something did, I didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

  I glanced back at the clearing as Corson yanked the black cloth away from one of the demons and held it triumphantly in the air. Another demon rushed across the yard and tackled him to the ground. I stopped as I was torn between continuing and rushing into the clearing to help him.

  No, you can’t!

  I had to do something to keep them from killing each other, but I didn’t dare go any closer to them. Corson had been fine before he entered that clearing, yet he’d turned as raving mad as the rest of them.

  If I tried to help, I could become entangled in whatever magic the horsemen weaved to trap their prey. It took everything I had, but I forced my attention away from Corson and back on hunting down whatever was causing this.

  Please stay alive until I can stop this, I pleaded, unwilling to think about what it would do to me if I lost him.

  Edging around the back of the house, I paused to set my knife down when the direction of the wind changed. Digging into the spongy earth, I scooped up a handful of dirt and rotting debris.

  Someone in the clearing screamed a tormented sound that died abruptly. The cry spurred me faster.

  I smeared dirt over my face and down the front of my shirt. I didn’t know where the horsemen were, if there was only one of them out there or more, but I couldn’t take the chance they would smell me. Lifting another handful of dirt, I ran it over my braid while my eyes continuously searched the woods for a predator. Behind me, the shouting and thuds of fists hitting flesh escalated.

  Corson. I finished coating myself in dirt before reclaiming my knife and rising to hunt.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Corson

  The demon groaned when I pulled my talons free and threw him off me. Rolling, I scrambled across the ground to reclaim the velvety, black cloak someone had wrenched from me.

  A booted foot stomped on my wrist when my hand curled around the cloak. I grunted as bone snapped and looked up to find Hawk leering down at me. Blood continued to seep from the wounds I’d inflicted on him and his eyes burned with rage.

  Why did I stab Hawk? My groggy mind tried to figure that out, but the more I searched for the answer, the more it eluded me. After everything we’d been through together, I considered Hawk a friend, yet when he bent to pull the cloth away from me, I knew I’d kill him for it.

  It belongs to me! I’d felt its softness against my skin and the rush of pleasure accompanying my possession of it.

  Hawk could not have it.

  Dimly, I recalled something far more important that belonged to me. A stirring of sanity slipped through the mass of need twisting like worms in my brain. The scent of a woman and the sensation of pale blonde hair tickling my arm played across my mind.

  I stumbled back when images assaulted me. The memory of love rose to the surface. She was mine; she made me better. I loved her strength, her stubbornness, and the way she cared for others.

  Where was she? Who was she?

  My head dropped into my hands when the world slanted precariously. I struggled to recall what I’d forgotten as the bones in my broken wrist set back into place with a click and the throbbing in it lessened. Lifting my head, I searched for that hair and smell, but all I saw was blood and fighting.

  Then, my gaze fastened on the cloak again.

  Have to have it! Have to have it! The words became a mantra in my head.

  Fangs sprouted into my mouth. That’s not right; I don’t have fangs.

  I do now. Because of her.

  Who?

  I took a step toward the others to jump into the fight again, but I froze when a face materialized within the tempest rolling through my mind.

  Wren!

  Once I recalled her, my urgency to possess the cloak lessened. I still wanted it, but I wanted her more. I spun toward where I’d left her in the woods.

  How could I have forgotten my Chosen?

  Wrong, this is all wrong, I realized as bits and pieces started fitting into place. There’s something else I had to recall, and I had to do it now, or we would all die.

  A rock hit me in the back of the head with enough force to stagger me forward. Someone launched onto my back, knocking me to the ground. Rolling, I slammed my fist into the chest of the demon perched on me. Lifting him up, I flung him over the top of me and sprang to my feet.

  All around me, demons and humans brawled. A few bodies littered the ground; I couldn’t tell if they were dead or alive, but if this continued many would die, of that I was certain. Then, the demon holding the black cloak spun around. The end of it brushed over my skin when it swung out, and the compulsion to grab it seized me.

  Panting for air, I stumbled away from the fight and toward where I’d left Wren. I searched the forest but didn’t see her. That cloak was nothing to me; she was everything, and I was failing her.

  “Where is she?”

  Before I could stumble further toward where I’d left Wren, someone kicked my knee out from under me. My leg bent at an odd angle when I hit the ground, and the demons pounced.

  Wren

  I stayed low as I moved around the corner of the house and back into the trees. I caught glimpses of the melee in the clearing, but I didn’t look too long. I couldn’t be distracted by them right now, and I knew I might plunge in to help if I watched for too long. We’d all be dead then.

  After we’d spent the night in the school, Corson sent most of the skelleins to the wall to speak with Kobal, and Raphael had gone with them. It had been the right choice for Raphael to go too, but right now I really wished the golden boy with his handy ‘suck the energy from things and blast them to kingdom come’ power was here.

  Creeping around the corner of a large boulder, I spotted something standing amid the trees fifteen feet away from me. Ducking back behind the rock, I studied the forest for manticores, gobalinus, or some other nasty Hell creature coming my way.

  I slid my knife back into its holster as a strong gust of wind knocked some of the stubbornly clinging oak leaves from the trees. One of the leaves drifted down to stick to my face. I brushed it off and cringed when it made a small, crinkling noise. Nothing could have detected the sound, but it still made my palms sweat. I took another steadying breath before peeking around the boulder with my gun held before me.

  Through the trees, the end of a horse’s red tail swept aside the leaves on the ground. I followed that tail up to the vibrant red of the horse’s legs, higher to its black body, and toward its front. My breath caught when I spotted the two heads attached to the horse’s long, muscular neck. The red stripe down the center of both the heads matched the red of its tail, mane, forelock, and legs. Four strange, fluorescent green eyes watched the clearing from the horse’s heads.

  The rider on the horse’s back sat proudly in the saddle, his shoulders back and his blond hair falling around his shoulders. The pale skin stretched taut over his high cheekbones and pointed chin gave him the appearance of a living skull.

  On the rider’s right hand, rings covered all his fingers and thumb. I couldn’t see his left hand from where I hid, but I recalled seeing him before with the other horsemen and knew his left hand also had rings on it. Each of the golden bands held a different colored jewel. The rings were so large the bands took up the entire bottom half of his l
ong, big-knuckled fingers.

  This horseman had also worn a black cloak when I last saw him. I recalled that a jewel, the same fluorescent green as the rider’s eyes and those of his horses, had fastened that cloak at his throat. He didn’t wear the cloak now.

  My heart sank when I realized the others were busy trying to kill each other over that cloak.

  The horseman ran his hand over his thigh, causing the jewels in his rings to flash in the sun filtering over his body. A rainbow of light reflected off the trees and ground as his hand moved.

  The sudden need to possess those rings almost caused me to burst out from behind the boulder and charge across the clearing at him. I’d bite his fingers off if it meant getting my hands on those rings. Not once had I ever wanted a piece of the jewelry before; if I couldn’t eat it, it was of little use to me, but suddenly those rings were everything to me.

  Mine! I want them! Mine! Mine! Mine!

  The words screeched across my mind; my body shuddered as my survival instinct warred with my craving to possess them all. I’d wear them, run them over my body, hold them close, and never ever ever would anyone else be allowed to touch my rings.

  You will die if you go for them!

  Somehow my survival instinct won the war, but barely. I ducked away again and pressed my back to the rock as my body shook like a jolt of electricity had hit it. My fingers clawed at my palms, tearing away the skin. The pain helped me to focus on something other than the rings as I forced myself to remain where I was.

  Somewhat back under control again, I uncurled my fingers and twisted my hands into the dirt to coat the gashes I’d inflicted on myself. Hopefully, the soil would be enough to staunch the flow and smell of my blood until I could make my move.

  I was pretty sure I knew which horseman I was dealing with. It had to be Greed sitting over there, proudly creating anarchy between a group that had fought and killed for each other until he rode into our midst.

 

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