Warrior Unraveled

by Tina Folsom

  Wesley suddenly lifted his head. “Did we make it?” He patted his chest and thighs. “Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “I’m good. Did you break anything?”

  He sat up and groaned. “Don’t think so. Where are we?” He looked around, then stared in the direction of the light source.

  “Not sure yet.” She looked closer at the rock formations around them, then let her hand glide over a dark, smooth surface. “Lava rock.” To her knowledge the council compound was constructed of limestone. Nobody had ever mentioned anything about lava rock. “That’s strange.”

  “What?” Wesley sounded instantly alarmed.

  “Touch the stone.”

  He shrugged. “What am I supposed to feel?”

  “It’s lava that’s hardened to rock.” She was certain of it now. “We’re not in the council compound anymore.”

  “Well, I guess that’s good news. We made it out.” He leaned closer. “Thanks to you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.” She staggered to her feet, and felt some aches and pains. Nothing that wouldn’t heal quickly.

  She took a few steps toward the large boulder, when she heard Wes get up and join her. He took her arm. “Wait.”

  Virginia looked over her shoulder.

  “We’ll figure out where we are together.” He smiled. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “I wasn’t trying—”

  “I know,” he interrupted and let go of her arm, only to take her hand and twine his fingers with hers.

  For the first time in a long time she was glad not to be alone. She stopped herself short from saying so out loud. Had she hit her head or was it Wesley’s kiss that had rendered her all emotional and soft? Goddamn it, she was a warrior, not some damsel in distress! She had to get a hold of herself before she said something she might later regret.

  She pointed to the boulder. “Let’s check out where that light’s coming from.” She marched toward it, Wes by her side, while she pretended not to notice that he was still holding her hand.

  The rock was taller than herself by about two feet and as wide as a garage door. She slowed her steps, made eye contact with Wesley, and put her index finger over her lips. He nodded.

  Careful not to make a sound, she inched around the side and peered past the boulder. A path wound its way through a formation of rocks. She looked up. The ceiling was made of stone, though she couldn’t really call it a ceiling. It seemed natural, not man-made. A tunnel of sorts.

  The light came from flames that seemed to shoot through cracks in the rock. Behind her, Wesley moved and squeezed his head past her. She felt him inhale audibly, and her own nose itched at the same time.

  “Sulfur,” he whispered into her ear.

  She’d recognized it, too. Worry traveled up her spine. She turned her head to look at Wes and motioned him to follow her. She treaded lightly, careful not to make a sound in the cavernous walkway, her gaze vigilant. She looked for signs that might help her figure out where they were, but there were none. No markings on the walls, no runes, nothing.

  The stench of sulfur grew stronger.

  Somewhere in the distance she heard a rumbling. She froze instantly. Wes slung his arm around her from behind and pulled her against his chest. Before she could protest, she heard something else: footsteps. More than one person was approaching.

  “This way,” Wes whispered in her ear and tried to pull her in the opposite direction.

  She shook her head, twisted in his arms and pressed him against the wall, then put her hand over his mouth. There was no time to get away. If she could hear footsteps, whoever was approaching would hear theirs. Maybe they already had.

  All she could do was stay where she was.

  And render Wesley and herself invisible.

  Just in time, as it turned out. Because the three men walking toward them weren’t human.

  In the subdued light of the cavern, their eyes shimmered green. Demon green.

  8

  Wesley wanted to curse. Two things prevented him from doing so: Virginia’s hand pressed over his mouth, and the knowledge that should he utter a sound, they were as good as dead. Because it was now clear as glass where they’d landed: the Underworld.

  The few days he’d spent with the guardians at the Baltimore compound had given him a general understanding of the world of the Demons of Fear and what role the Stealth Guardians played in it. The rest he could piece together by himself.

  Sulfur—not just the smell of it, but also the thin yellow layer that covered portions of the walls and ground—lava rock, and guys with glaring green eyes. Yep, welcome to Zoltan’s Underworld. From the frying pan into the eternal fire. His day had just taken a turn for the worse. He could only hope that Virginia’s powers worked down here, and that she was able to cloak them so the demons would just walk by. Surely that was her plan, even though he didn’t feel any different, and he could still see her. But there was no time to ask her and get any reassurance. All he could do was stand there like a potted plant and hope for the best.

  Not his favorite pastime.

  Though he wasn’t going to complain about one thing: Virginia’s body pressed to his, her soft fingers on his lips. While this was no romantic embrace, at least knowing that she was trying to protect him made him feel somewhat better about the situation.

  Holding his breath, Wes watched the three demons approach. They carried daggers in their hands and on their hips, their clothes not dissimilar from that of any guerilla group: brown or dark green cargo pants, shirts with plenty of pockets for knives, weapons, and whatnots, jackets with even more pockets, heavy boots to kick the shit out of anybody or to crush a rodent beneath their soles.

  Apart from their eyes, they looked humanoid. Just a bunch of average, everyday human scum. And that’s exactly what they had been before turning demon—Aiden had explained it a few days earlier. Committing an evil act in the name of the demons turned a human’s soul so dark that the demons could make it theirs, thus turning the human into a demon.

  Wes shuddered at the thought.

  When the demons were only a few feet away, Wes instinctively put his arm around Virginia’s back, drawing her even closer—as if he could protect her that way. He knew he couldn’t, but it didn’t stop him from holding her tight.

  Without even glancing at him and Virginia, the demons marched past them. Wes turned his head to watch them disappear in the other direction, but he didn’t dare breathe until finally, after an eternity, he couldn’t hear their footsteps anymore.

  He looked back at Virginia, and realized only now that she’d taken her hand off his mouth.

  She swallowed hard. “We’re in the demons’ domain.”

  “No shit,” he murmured back, keeping his voice low. “What are we gonna do now?”

  “Well, you tell me!” she snapped and freed herself from his embrace. “I didn’t do anything to bring us down here. You must have done something when we were in the portal.”

  “What?” he ground out. “You were driving! So don’t put this on me!”

  “You must have done something. No member of our race has ever entered the Underworld.” She glared at him in suspicion.

  “Well, that’s rich! I saved your ass back there in the compound and—”

  “So what was your plan? Deliver me to the demons?”

  “My plan?” He grabbed her and pressed her against the stone wall. “My plan was to fuck you, okay? My plan was to strip you naked and sink my cock into you until neither you nor I could move another limb. When will you get that into your pretty little head? I’m a man, and I’ve got the hots for you. Maybe that’s stupid. Maybe it’s gonna cost me my life. But, by God, I have no ulterior motive other than getting into your pants!” He released her and pushed back from the wall. “And now I want to get the hell out of here before those fucking demons find us and kill us!”

  “So you really—”

  He cut her off with a glare.

  Virg
inia nodded quickly. “Fine, let’s find a way out. Maybe you can start pulling your weight by using your witchcraft.”

  “My witchcraft?” He frowned. “But—” That’s when it struck him. He looked around. No runes anywhere he could see. The runes carved into the walls, floors, and ceilings of the compound had bridled his witchcraft, but down here, he saw nothing that prevented him from accessing his powers.

  He grinned. “Excellent!” He suddenly noticed how Virginia inched away from him. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes. “One of these day you’re going to learn to trust me.” He offered his hand, palm up. “Haven’t I laid my cards on the table? The only thing you have to fear from me is me trying to kiss you again. Other than that, you’re safe.” He smirked.

  A blush rose to her cheeks, then she placed her hand into his.

  “Can you keep us cloaked?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I’ll have to touch you. I could do it with my mind, but it takes more energy. And I’d rather save it in case we’re discovered and need to fight.”

  He raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I have no problem with you touching me.”

  Now it was her turn for an eyeroll.

  As if she hadn’t enjoyed the kiss as much as he had! She’d moaned out her pleasure for everybody to hear, and the way she’d ground her pelvis against him hadn’t exactly been chaste either. She’d wanted it. Wanted him. But Wes kept that thought to himself. It was best not to aggravate her any further.

  Instead, he said, “Let’s go. I need to perform a guiding spell to find the way out.”

  “Can’t you do it right here?”

  He shook his head. “I need a water source. A witch’s power comes from the elements. Mine comes from water, and in the absence of any of my other tools, it’s the only thing that will give me enough power to perform a spell.” He glanced down the corridor.

  “How are we gonna find a water source down here?”

  “We find limestone, we find water. Not all the rock down here is lava. Let’s keep our eyes and ears open. There have to be aquifers somewhere, underground rivers or springs. Any water source will do.”

  Hand in hand, they started walking.

  “And you’re sure we’re invisible, right?” he asked, looking at her.

  She nodded.

  “It’s just, it’s kind of strange that I can still see you.” He motioned to his own body. “And myself.”

  “There are different stages of cloaking. Would you like to see?”

  Before he could answer, Virginia disappeared in front of his eyes.

  “Fuck me!” he let out in surprise. He tugged at her hand to pull her to him, then ran his hands over her.

  “What are you doing?” she hissed and pushed against him, freeing herself.

  “Just had to check you were still here.”

  All of a sudden Virginia became visible again, probably only so she could glare at him. “How about you start trusting me, too?”

  He smirked. “What makes you think it’s a trust issue? What if I was simply taking the opportunity to cop a feel?”

  The jab into his ribs that followed wasn’t entirely unexpected. The fact that Virginia didn’t use her full preternatural strength to hurt him, however, was.

  9

  In his private rooms, Zoltan breathed through the crippling pain that assaulted his head. The migraine-like attacks were getting worse. He’d been lucky again this time: when the pain had surfaced, he’d already been on his way to his private quarters, and had made it just in time, before he’d collapsed on his bed.

  Now, half an hour later, he felt drained and knew he had to go up top, to the human world, to replenish his energy and feed off the fear of a human so none of his subjects realized that something was wrong with their leader. Because once they did, the hyenas would prey on him. A weak leader, no matter whether the weakness was physical or mental, was a dead leader.

  Zoltan shrugged into his coat, armed himself with two daggers, one hidden in his inside pocket, one in his boot, and left his quarters. As he walked toward one of the vortex circles, the only places in the Underworld where he could conjure a portal that would carry him into the human world, he contemplated his options.

  It was time to prepare for the worst. He needed an escape plan, in case his affliction was ever noticed. One that nobody, not even Vintoq, his closest confidant, knew of. A safe place somewhere in the human world, where he could disappear when things got too hot in the Underworld.

  Once he was done feeding off the fear of a human, the fear that would make him strong again, he would go about it immediately.

  Before he even reached the vortex circle, a cave where six tunnels met, Zoltan knew something was wrong. Yannick, the demon who oversaw all vortex circles, was arguing with one of his subordinates.

  “What is this?” Zoltan thundered.

  Both demons spun around to face him, bowing their heads briefly in a show of submission.

  Then Yannick said, “Nothing important. There’s been a disruption in the force field.”

  “What kind of disruption?” Zoltan asked.

  “Just a flare, the same kind that happens when we conjure our vortexes.”

  Zoltan made a dismissive hand movement. He wasn’t in the mood to hear about problems his underlings should work out themselves. “Then it was probably just that: someone conjuring a vortex.”

  Zoltan took a step toward the center of the circle, but the other demon stepped in front of him. “With all due respect, oh Great One—”

  Zoltan glared at him. “What is your name?”

  “Quentin, oh Great One.”

  He snatched the insolent demon by the collar. “Then get out of my way, Quentin. Or I’ll crush you with my bare hands.”

  “But the force field wasn’t centered in one of the vortex circles.” The demon’s voice trembled.

  “What?”

  Quentin motioned to Yannick. “I was trying to explain to Yannick that the disturbance came from somewhere else.”

  Zoltan snapped his head toward Yannick. “Is that true?”

  “It can’t be,” Yannick stated. “It’s impossible. No demon can cast a vortex outside of the vortex circles. And I’ve had all of them checked. The guards were unanimous. Nobody opened a vortex during the timeframe Quentin claims to have felt the disturbance. I keep meticulous records.”

  Zoltan nodded. Just as he’d asked Yannick to do so he could keep close tabs on the movements of his demons. Which meant something was seriously wrong. He turned back to Quentin.

  “Where do you believe the disturbance happened?”

  Quentin pointed to one of the tunnels. “It came from there. I’m certain.”

  “How do you know?”

  “There was a sound that accompanied it. And a shock wave.” He pointed to a niche. It contained a clipboard with papers. “The paper began to flutter.”

  Since there was no wind in the tunnels, air could only be stirred up by a few things: a vortex being conjured, a demon running in the tunnels, or an explosion blasting through it.

  “Come with me,” Zoltan ordered. “Show me where you think it happened.” He glanced over his shoulder at Yannick. “You guard the circle in the meantime.”

  Yannick nodded dutifully, and Zoltan followed the other demon into the tunnel he’d pointed out.

  “Have you seen anybody come out of this tunnel today?” Zoltan asked, while he let his gaze wander, searching for anything that looked out of the ordinary.

  “I started my shift only an hour ago. But I’ve seen nobody since I felt the disturbance.” He motioned to a cross tunnel a few yards ahead. “If anybody wanted to avoid passing by me, he could have used one of the other tunnels.”

  “Hmm.”

  A tunnel intersected with the one Zoltan was using. Quentin passed it and Zoltan continued following him. The flames shooting out of various cracks along the stone walls painted eerie shadows on the walls and ceilings. The smell of sulfur was particularly strong in the tunnels where the scent
had no place to escape.

  “It must have been somewhere here,” Quentin suddenly announced and looked over his shoulder.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “There’s a different smell here.”

  Zoltan sniffed the air around him. “What is that?”

  “I believe it’s almonds.”

  The smell of almonds, it was very distinct now. And stronger to his left. Zoltan turned in the direction his nose was leading him. He noticed a large boulder and a narrow opening next to it. He sniffed again.

  While most modern explosives had no distinguishable odor, he knew that there was one that had a distinct smell of almonds: Nobel 808, an explosive nobody in the modern world used anymore. But then, he knew of one species that hadn’t exactly gone with the times. A species that still fought with old weapons. What if they were still using an old explosive?

  “Go through there and tell me what you see,” Zoltan commanded his underling.

  Quentin did as he was told and slipped through the opening. A moment later, he called out, “There’s nothing, oh Great One. Just some rubble.”

  “Any sign of explosives?”

  “None, oh Great One.”

  Reassured that it would be safe to enter the hidden cave—one of so many in the Underworld—Zoltan marched through the opening. It was dark there, so he reached into his pocket and pulled a match from it, then drew it along the boulder. It ignited and illuminated the space.

  His eyes searched the ground. Footprints. He knelt down. They appeared to be fresh. Two sets of boots at least. Two people.

  “Look around, Quentin,” Zoltan ordered. “Somebody was here not long ago.”

  He noticed Quentin strike a match, too, while his own burned down to his finger. He tossed it and lit a new one.

  “Oh, Great One, here.”