Pisces

by Kim Faulks

  “Who touched my ass? Someone touched my ass!” Parry snarled. There was silence, utter fucking silence as a chuckle trembled my chest.

  “No one touched your ass, Parry,” Stix moaned from underneath the leg of the Guardian. “Getting your damn hopes up again.”

  “I thought someone would at least want to,” the old bastard grumbled.

  But the banter did the trick, lightening the load for all of us.

  Neon white shone from my hip. I felt the twinge in my chest…following the power of the sigil all the way across my heart as the brick wall blurred.

  A snarl and a grunt rang out from the others as the light pulsed brighter and pushed away the dark. I took a step, and then another, leading the way when there was none moments before.

  Footsteps shuffled behind me as we shoved our way through. The hunter in me found the entrance, but this wasn’t to any bar…nor any backstreet chop-shop mechanic…

  The luminescence ebbed as I stepped through the bricked courtyard into the blur of nothing, and out into the darkened entrance to the Gate.

  Fire and lava burned deeper in the tunnel to the left, and the twelve-foot drop did little to curb the blazing heat that roared like a damn furnace. The Dragon’s Breath, we’d called the entrance over the years. It was more than the way to the Underworld. It was the door to our home. Humans couldn’t tolerate the heat, even Hellhounds didn’t linger. Not the half-bloods who lived here.

  Down here, we were safe. Down here, we were protected. If Blaze wanted to find us, he’d need more than a damn army to do it.

  Heat blazed at the mammoth entrance to the vein, but it was a smaller tunnel to the right where we were headed. One that’d lead anyone else on a long exploration to nowhere, but with the sigil, the tunnel would take us home.

  The men shifted the Guardian higher on their shoulders and headed into the dark. Their boots resounded, but I didn’t need a sigil blade to light the way. I knew this place by instinct alone. I took one last look at the raging crimson hue and followed.

  The tunnel wound in and out. Heavy scrapes and grunts rebounded off the walls. But it wasn’t the darkness I saw now, it was the burning wrecks we left behind…it was the blood and the fire…the screams that followed—as they always did.

  What’ll you do to me…you’ll kill me?

  His face filled my mind. Long silver hair stuck to his cheek with blood.

  Is that what you’ll do?

  “Amaris, you all good?”

  I wrenched my head up at the sound of Parry’s voice. The knife on my hip was already coming to life, carving a door in the side of the black stony walls.

  The glow caught graphite fragments in the obsidian rock, casting stars through the tunnel and for a second, I was captured.

  “Earth to Amaris.”

  Goddamn pestering old fool. I snapped my gaze toward him and raised my hand. “After you, Parry.”

  The black stone shimmered and yawned wide and the faint roar of my world filtered out. Parry shuffled and the men followed, moving sideways as they stepped through door and into the Underground.

  I wanted to stay here, watching the sparks glisten on the walls—watching anything really. But there was no point in delaying the inevitable…no point in the emotional tornado that was my little sister.

  I left the underground stars behind and stepped through the portal. The wall closed behind me and I was home.

  The faint orange glow of the fires cast shadows along the wall. This part of the tunnel was wider and higher. Rooms were carved into the walls, complete with stairs and bars, and shops. This was a city beneath the city. A city of the tired and the hungry.

  Cries reached me, wails so piercing they carved through flesh and bone to find the softer parts inside. The parts of me that bled for my people—that saw the hope that still raged in their eyes.

  I followed Parry and the others through the dirt streets lined with women and children, men carving weapons, children with bare feet and dirt-smeared faces played in the thoroughfare.

  “Bless you…” they whispered as I strode past. “Bless you…bless you, Amaris. Bless you…”

  Voices, soft, low…panicked and somber greeted me, blending into one. I nodded to each of them, staring at the dark circles under their eyes. They needed me…Goddess above they needed more than I had to give.

  They needed a way out of here. They needed their city back—I lifted my gaze to stare at the long and lonely dirt Hell I gave them. They were alive. The words were a cruel comfort. If that was the best I had to give, then I was failing them miserably.

  “Bless you…bless you, Amaris. Bless you warrior.”

  With every nod, my head grew heavy and my steps slowed.

  “Where do you want him?” Parry leaned with his hands braced against the wall, the Guardian’s leg draped over his shoulder.

  The corner of his shirt fell open, exposing the long line of hard muscle. I traced the smooth olive skin over the corded lines of his abs. A twinge echoed, boring through my center as I stared as far as his shirt would allow, and then found the brutal marks on his side. “Take him to the infirmary. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Parry gave a nod, and they pushed off the wall, carrying him deeper into the tunnel before they turned right.

  “Bless you.” An old woman clutched my hand as she passed. “Bless you, child. Bless you.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded and tried to pull my hand away.

  Thin skin skipped across twisted tendons and gnarled knuckles as she held on. She was beautiful, homely and perfect. Faint flames glowed in her eyes…and when I stared, I was almost lost…

  “Be careful of the cold. Be careful of the cold. They see you…they see everyone, watching you in the dark. Hungry…hungry…hungry.”

  I couldn’t move, not even to pull away.

  “They see you,” she whispered. “They see everyone. See everyone…everyone.”

  Her nails carved crescent moons on the sides of my fingers. A crimson bead welled underneath.

  Don’t… I wrenched my head up to meet her eyes. Don’t touch the blood…couldn’t she see it? Couldn’t she see the blood?

  “Tessa!” A woman called as she hurried toward us. Her eyes were wide, panic rode her words. “What are you doing here? I told you not to wander. I’m so sorry Amaris…so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  But I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The old woman’s nails cut deep, but her words cut deeper. The panicked woman bore a faint resemblance. “Is this your Grandmother?"

  Strands of brown hair scattered as she nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry if she…if she…”

  Her eyes widened, breath caught. The words seem to burn away on the tip of her tongue.

  She didn’t know what to say…didn’t know how to explain her Grandmother.

  My jaw tightened. I couldn’t breathe. Anger flared and indignation followed. I was the last person she needed to give an explanation—and the last one who wanted it. “You don’t have to apologize. Not to me.”

  Defeat and exhaustion clouded her eyes. She smiled, lowered her gaze and then stiffened.

  My hands…

  I followed her gaze to crusted nails and filthy skin and eased them from her Grandmother’s hold. “It needed to be done.”

  She flinched as if I slapped her, and then jerked her gaze to mine. The fire that burned in her Grandmother’s eyes glowed faintly in hers as she straightened her spine. “And you don’t have to explain. Not to me…not to any of us. We’re behind you, Amaris. We’re behind you all the way.”

  She blurred. I dropped my gaze and the ground blurred as well. Don’t you cry…don’t you damn cry. I gave her a nod, and thank the Goddess above she understood.

  “Come on, Tessa. Let’s leave Amaris in peace. I got your favorite on the stove, deer soup.”

  “My favorite?” The old woman whispered, excitement crept into her tone. “My favorite soup.”

  They clutched hands and moved away, and I
found the strength to watch them. My tears dried as the tunnel closed in. All I saw were the hungry; all I saw were the desperate. Food was scarce, too scarce. Blaze’s men saw to that.

  They cut off our food. They killed our men…they had the numbers. They had the strength. All we had was desperation. But desperate people had nothing to lose, and this fight was far from over.

  I shoved away and made for the infirmary. Whispers of Bless you, followed me like scattered rose petals. I couldn’t give up, not now…not ever. Not until the flames in my soul ebbed and my heartsblood spilled onto the ground.

  Shadows and stone filled my mind. Blaze was raging. I could feel his hate…feel his rage. He’d been dealt a hard blow—a very hard blow. I searched for some fragment of happiness as I turned right off the main channel and into the quiet.

  Tunnels speared out like splayed fingers from the main tunnel, some crossed, some ended in the middle of nowhere. But every one of them were crammed to the point of overflowing. My people spent decades carving a home in the arms of this obsidian beast called Hell’s Gate, and every inch of this place was well used.

  The sweet smell of Juniper leaves bloomed in the air. Medicine women worked away in small rooms that lead to the infirmary. This tunnel crisscrossed into another used for armory and weapons. Any other day that was where I’d be…but today it was the healers I sought.

  The mammoth healing room curved off to the right. It was as high as the main tunnel, and long. Makeshift beds sat along one wall, and a bench filled with healing herbs on the other.

  We made do with the little we had. Conventional medicines were kept for the needy, for those with barely a spark of Hellhound blood in their veins. The rest of us were given a bed and bitter, healing brews to drink while the healers worked their magic.

  But what kind of magic could they use on a Guardian? I slowed my steps and stilled inside the doorway. The place was a damn mess. Bedsheets were strewn across the foot of the bed; clothes had been dropped on the floor and left behind.

  No one wanted to share space with an unknown…

  And a Guardian was exactly that…an unknown.

  He whimpered, and then growled. The sounds echoed in the room, slamming into me. He looked even worse in this light. The Hellhound bite had taken its toll on his body.

  There was no color to his skin, no hard rise to his chest. I took a step staring at his closed, darkened eyes. His lips parted, panting breath raced across cracked lips.

  “What the Hell were you doing here, Guardian?” I glanced to his wound. “And why the Hell were you fighting with Heron?”

  His head rolled to the side. Long lashes fluttered as he opened his eyes. There was no life in there, no flame I could find. He was a Dragon…one of the enforcers of this world, and yet here he was…lying on a table in front of me.

  “Amaris …” Parry called.

  I turned my head, catching the wince. There was only one reason for that kind of look…“Oryn…again,” I answered and felt my stomach sink.

  “Kane’s here…fucking smug sonofabitch. He’s here and he’s spending time wi—"

  I spun on my heel and felt rage burn deep. “He’s spending time with my sister?”

  He was slow to answer…too damn slow. He always was shit at lying. “Don’t bother…don’t you bother.”

  I lunged, driving my heels into the ground. Goddamn bastard, thinks he can waltz in here with his filthy thoughts and his filthy hands. The tunnel blurred, everything blurred. “I’ll kill him…” My voice deepened. “I’ll goddamn kill him.”

  I left Parry behind, left everything behind. All I could see was Kane’s smug face, and all I could feel was rage. She was just a kid…just a damn kid. He had no right. No fucking right at all.

  There were no whispers of bless you, now. Only wariness as others scurried out of my path. I cut across the tunnel, toward the armory, and pushed into one of the break rooms for the men.

  And she was here, smiling, laughing. Her damn red hair swinging as she shook her head. One of the men was chiding her, harboring a smirk. But there was no desire in his eyes, only the warmth of a brother…they were all her brothers in a way—all here to fight and to protect.

  But not Kane.

  He was only after one damn thing.

  He’d get it over my dead body.

  I crossed the floor, caught the men turning toward me and stiffening. “What the Hell do you think you’re doing?”

  She flinched at the words. Orange sparks danced in her eyes. The fire lanterns caught the red in her auburn hair, and it hit me just how young she was. Just a damn kid…

  I tried to swallow the burn, tried to ease the sting in my words. But I couldn’t…not tonight…of all fucking nights. “You going to answer me? I said, what the Hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Well, right now, I’m talking to the guys,” she answered through clenched teeth. Her smile didn’t waver, and neither did the glow of her golden eyes.

  I shook my head. “Why, Oryn? Tell me that…”

  “Why what?” She straightened her spine. “Why talk to them, or why are they guys?”

  I lunged forward, grasping her by the shoulders. My fingers gripped bone. She was too damn thin… “You know what I’m talking about! Why defy my rules…I told you to stay away from him…I warned you.”

  All I saw was defiance, and all I felt was hate as she answered. “I’m not your prisoner. I’ll do what I damn well please.”

  She sounded like a spoiled brat, and to anyone else she might seem like that. But I could see the cracks in her surface. I could see she was just holding on.

  “You can’t keep me,” she whispered, her words husky and raw, choked with emotion. Tears brimmed in her eyes. She swallowed and swallowed, still the words stuck in her throat. “I’m not…I’m not…”

  “I know.” I wrenched her thin body hard against mine. My arms went around her. She was so thin…so damn thin. “I know you’re not. They aren’t like us. I know…but believe me when I say that Kane is no good for you. He’ll say things he doesn’t mean…things like he cares about you.”

  She flinched in my arms. My fingers gripped her tight, splaying wide to press my palm against her back.

  “He does,” she murmured.

  I lowered my head, hearing her muffled against my shoulder.

  “He likes me. We’re friends.”

  I closed my eyes to the desperation in her voice. “Honey, men like Kane aren’t friends. They’ll never be friends. He’s using you, that’s all. He cares about one thing, and that’s what he can gain by someone like you.”

  “He said…he said he liked me.” Small words, shattered words.

  I could feel the glass, feel the cut of her innocence. Fucking bastard. I’ll kill him. I’ll incinerate his fucking soul. “Men like him use people like us—honest, caring people. To him we’re nothing but toys. Once he’s finished he’ll toss you aside, just like every other woman he claims to like.”

  A shudder raced through her. She leaned backwards, torment raging in her eyes. “He has other women?”

  God…she saw herself as a woman…and in human years, it might’ve been the case. But she was just a kid by the Hellhound blood in her veins, barely more than sixteen.

  Chairs scraped and the thud of boots echoed. A sister tussle they were used to, but this…this heart shredding conversation was too much for the men. It was too much for me. I couldn’t stand the pain in her eyes…her beautiful golden eyes.

  I reached up, skimmed my fingers through her shoulder length hair and smoothed the strands around her ears. “Yes, men like Kane have other women. You know who he is right? You know what they call him?”

  “One…” she whispered. “I heard one of the men call him One. Why?”

  “Because he’s the first level Hellhound. He’s one of the seven cursed. He’s dangerous, Oryn. More dangerous than you know, and he’ll shred your heart as soon as look at you. It’s their makeup; it’s the way they run.”

&
nbsp; She stilled, seconds ticked over by the clenching of my heart. She was so quiet…so damn quiet. Slick tears shone against the flickering glow as they carved a trail along her cheek.

  “It’s okay.” I gripped her tight, squeezing her against me.

  I’d give anything to see her happy. I’d give anything to steal her pain and her tears.

  But the best I could do was retribution.

  I ground my jaw. And for Kane, it’d been a long time coming.

  The thunder of boots stole my focus. I reached for her shoulders and eased away. The motion was natural, wipe away her tears, kiss her cheek, love her as only a big sister could. “You’re going to be fine, you hear me?”

  There was barely a nod as someone called behind me.

  “Amaris…Amaris!”

  I wrenched my head toward the intruder. “Yes?”

  “The Guardian.” His dark eyes were gripped with fear and regret. With a slow shake of his head he whispered. “He’s gone.”

  4

  Amaris

  No!

  Bloody hands, slow feet.

  Goddamn weak…goddamn stupid!

  I left Oryn behind and lunged for the doorway.

  “It’s too late, Amaris!” The warrior called behind me.

  But what did he know about death? What did he know about a damn Guardian?

  Hold on…don’t you slip away yet. Hold on, goddamn it. I’m coming.

  Faces blurred, voices called out. I had no time for them. I had no time at all. My thighs burned, pushing, striding out until desperation pushed me into a jog. Others scurried as I dug deeper, turned right, and raced ahead.

  Three of my men hovered around the doorway to the infirmary, gawking, shaking their heads.

  “Get out of the damn way,” I snarled and shoved my way through.

  Parry looked up as he yanked the sheet over the Guardian’s face. His ancient eyes looked harder, colder…and I felt the weight of that stare. It was my fault…I took too long, left it too late.