by Becca Blake
When we arrived at the Courtyard and the building came into view, I drew in a sharp gasp.
I’d only set fire to the ground level, but the flames must have spread further through the building before anyone put them out. The bricks were mostly intact, except for some near the top that had crumbled away, but the roof had almost completely caved in. The blown out windows left only charred outlines in their place, and even the face of the clock on the tower was now fully black.
Looking at the shell of the building left me with a hollow feeling, a deep sense of all that I’d lost over the last few months. The loss of Ayla, my partner, who had abandoned me. The loss of my father, who had been taken from me. And now, the loss of the only life I’d ever known, the life I was leaving behind.
I swore my oath to the Arbiters of Shadow in that building. And now, both it and my oath had been broken beyond repair.
People gathered outside the town hall, filling the Courtyard with whispers as they gossiped about what happened. I couldn’t catch much of what they were saying, but it seemed word had already spread that Orion was responsible for the fire.
I stood on the tips of my toes, trying to get a better look. Marcus Thorne, John Grayson, and Celia Lawrence were having a heated discussion with the rest of the Council on the stairs.
I nudged Jacob’s arm. “Let’s move up.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.
“Something’s happening. We should find out what.”
As I pushed through the wall of bodies, a chill traveled across my skin. I glanced back over my shoulder. Our guards were still following close behind, keeping an eye on us. But even they were looking around and fidgeting uncomfortably. The others around us seemed similarly unsettled, as what had previously been a steady murmur of discussion quieted.
The crowd parted for a man who walked through, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his long coat. His pale face was clean-shaven, his dark hair slicked back.
One of the guards following us pointed out the strange man and whispered to the other. They gave us one last look before pushing their way through the crowd toward the members of the Council, who still stood at the entrance to the town hall.
“Something isn’t right here,” Jacob said.
“We should leave.”
He nodded his agreement.
I kept an eye on the stranger as we backed away. He turned around, drawing his unnaturally green eyes across the crowd. He wore a far more human appearance this time, but I’d seen those glowing eyes before.
Raxael.
The demon lord disappeared, then materialized behind the line of the Council’s security guards only a second later. As he lifted his arm, his flesh morphed into a single talon the length of a sword. He thrust it through a guard’s chest and twisted.
There was a moment of shocked silence before screams surrounded me, and I brought my hands to my mouth to smother one of my own.
Hunters all over the Courtyard reached for their weapons, but a quick gesture from Leader Grayson stopped them.
“Do not attack!” The wind carried the Council leader’s raspy voice across the crowd.
Raxael shifted again, letting the guard he stabbed drop. He popped up in front of the Council members at the same time the dead man’s body hit the ground. Lifting his talon, he pressed the sharp, bloody tip against the hollow space at the base of Leader Grayson’s throat.
“Come with me,” I whispered as I took Jacob’s hand and let the shimmer of invisibility coat us.
Now, while everyone was distracted by Raxael, was the perfect time to leave town. We could take advantage of the chaos, and of our guards leaving us unattended. But instead of turning back toward my house, I crept around the edges of the crowd, moving up closer to the burnt remains of the town hall.
I crouched behind the railing—just in case any of them could see through our invisibility—and watched.
“We need to leave.” Jacob’s whisper was harsh in my ear.
“Just a few minutes,” I said. “Then we’ll go.”
Raxael’s hand shifted back to its human form, and he ran his fingers along Leader Grayson’s cheek, as tenderly as a woman might stroke her lover.
“Tell me what happened in Omaha,” he said, his voice low and silky smooth.
The Council members exchanged nervous glances, but none of them seemed willing to speak up.
“Anyone?” Raxael kept his voice quiet, a menacing calm that carried with it a promise of something far worse.
Marcus stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should take this discussion somewhere more private.”
“I care very little about being heard. I want answers.” A second later, the demon lord stood only inches away from Marcus.
“We had a traitor in our ranks,” he said. “He conspired with the leader of your coven in a failed effort to overthrow you.”
“I have already paid a visit to the traitors in my own ranks, though Jay Maki is…” Raxael’s perfect smile faltered for a moment as his voice trailed off. “Missing. But I will deal with him. This other one, though. The Arbiter. Who is he?”
“Alexander Orion. A former commander,” Marcus said.
“Bring him to me.” The demon lord’s voice took on a guttural tone that shed all traces of humanity.
Jacob’s hand tightened around my wrist, and he lifted his perfectly visible arm.
The mention of Orion’s name had shattered my composure, and I needed to keep a grip on my emotions to maintain our invisibility. I willed away my growing anger and cast the spell once more.
If anyone noticed my slip-up, no one acted on it. No one but Raxael moved at all.
“He seems to have escaped from our holding cells, where we were keeping him to await your judgment,” Marcus continued. He inclined his head toward the Council’s leader. “Leader Grayson was the one overseeing this mess.”
Raxael disappeared once more, and the creature that returned held no traces of his human form. He had more than doubled in size, and massive spikes now protruded from his back, continuing down a long tail. Green embers flared beneath his charred skin, outlining the sleek lines of his muscles.
The ridges of his spiky hand transformed once more into the blade-like talon he used to stab the guard.
“Where is the traitor?” he asked, though this time, his growl was hardly recognizable as English.
“He escaped several days after his trial.” Leader Grayson trembled, making his already frail form seem even more diminished than I’d ever seen him. “We don’t know where he’s gone.”
At that, Marcus took a cautious step forward. “I urged him to summon you immediately to deal with the fugitive, but he was adamant that we would be able to handle things on our own.”
Raxael materialized behind Leader Grayson and pushed his talon slowly through the sagged flesh of the man’s neck. He brought his talon upward, tearing with agonizing patience through the resistance of flesh and bone, continuing even after the Council leader’s screaming stopped.
Chapter Twenty-Four
As Raxael withdrew his talon and Leader Grayson’s body slid off, everything seemed to happen all at once in slow motion.
Celia Lawrence, who stood near the back of the group of Council members, turned her body away and brought her hands to her mouth, her chest heaving. When her eyes opened, they met mine, and I knew I’d lost my hold on our invisibility once more.
All around us, panic broke out in the crowd. Some of the hunters in the Courtyard rushed at the threat with their weapons drawn. Others scattered, hurrying away from the town hall in all directions as quickly as possible.
“You will bring him to me.” Raxael’s snarl boomed through the Courtyard. He lifted his arms, and dozens of portals opened. Hellhounds leaped out and swarmed the area, their vicious howls echoing all around
us.
Raxael disappeared, and if he returned elsewhere, I didn’t see him.
A hellhound tackled a security guard at the base of the stairs. It clawed across the man’s chest, slashing him open. The hound cut off the man’s cries with a stream of flames, burning his face and throat down to the bone.
As I looked on, all I could see was the body I believed was Ayla’s back in Omaha. I’d seen horrors before, but the sight and smell of charred flesh had haunted my nightmares since. I stumbled back and pressed myself against the blackened wall.
Jacob took my arm and pulled me away. “Time to go.”
Even if I wanted to argue with him, words failed me. As we ran, I tried to summon more invisibility, but fear that I couldn’t shake had taken hold of me. Jacob guided me around a nearby hellhound as it mauled a body that was already so torn to shreds it was unrecognizable.
My sheathed sword tapped against my thigh as we ran. The blade called to me, thrumming with desire to join the fight, but there were far too many of the demonic creatures to even try.
So, we ran.
The sickening cries of both the hellhounds and their victims filled the Courtyard, and the air was thick with smoke from the flames and burning flesh.
We slipped into an alley off of Market Street and ducked behind the training center to catch our breath. The attack broke out so fast that no one had been ready for it. I didn’t even want to think about how many dead and dying hunters we ran past.
“Are you okay?” Jacob asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, hoping that saying it would make it true. We could get out of Haygrove alive. I just had to pull myself together; I couldn’t afford to let fear take over.
Jacob drew his sword and peeked around the corner. “It’s a long way to your place from here.”
“We’ll make it. We can cut through the back streets.”
He nodded. “Lead the way.”
We rushed out of the alleyway and ducked into the next street over to find a group of hounds racing down the sidewalk across the street. In the time it had taken us to gather our composure behind the training center, the demonic creatures had brought their destruction to Market Street. All around us, hunters fought them off, but their numbers seemed endless.
I pulled Jacob into the closest building, and we crouched low to the ground. We had to get away from the center of town. Glass crunched beneath my boots as we ducked under the shattered window. The shopkeeper, Ted Richmond, huddled behind the counter, holding a shotgun in his shaking hands.
If the shells weren’t enchanted, it wouldn’t help him against the hellhounds. And even if they were, it likely wouldn’t matter. He worked at the shop because he was a civilian, not a hunter, and I doubted he’d ever been trained in combat.
His eyes met mine, searching for answers I didn’t have time to give him.
A hellhound outside let out a howl, and a chorus of them followed in response.
Ted fired a panicked shot, blowing a hole in the wall next to the doorway. The shotgun kicked his shoulder back hard enough that he dropped it, and it slid beneath the counter. As he scrambled for his gun, one of the hounds bounded in through the doorway, searching for the source of the gunfire. It sniffed the air, then leaped in Ted’s direction. Its muscular legs splintered the wooden counter, and it let loose a stream from its mouth that set the counter alight.
Ted crawled out from the wreckage, clutching the shotgun to his chest as he tried desperately to reload it.
I moved to help him, but Jacob grabbed my arm and pointed to the back door at the other end of the shop.
We had to keep moving, but I couldn’t just abandon an innocent resident like this.
I pulled away from Jacob and dove for the hellhound, sending out a ward to protect Ted from the burst of flame.
“Run!” I shouted, pointing at the back door.
Ted dropped the shotgun and scrambled away.
The hellhound turned its glowing red eyes on me, and I took a few steps back, readying my sword. As it leaped for me, I ducked down and plunged my sword upward.
The strike I aimed for its belly missed, and the force of its hind legs knocked me over. I tried to push myself out from underneath it, but it pinned me down with a massive paw.
I heard Jacob before I saw him as he drove his sword through the beast’s leg. Its claws slashed across my shoulder as it spun around again, this time to face Jacob.
The pain seared through my chest and spread out into every part of my body. I gritted my teeth and forced myself upright as Jacob slashed the beast across its neck. It slumped to the floor at his feet.
“Guess we’re even again,” he said, grinning, though his smile faded as soon as he looked over at me. He rushed over and crouched by my side.
I bent my neck, trying to get a look at the claw mark that now marred my chest beneath my shredded shirt. Any higher, and it would have torn right through my neck.
“I’m okay,” I wheezed.
Jacob fumbled in his bag and pulled out a jar of healing herbs. “Here, let me—”
I interrupted him by putting my hand over his. “Don’t waste them. This is an infernal wound.”
He frowned. “But—”
“I’ll deal. We need to keep moving.”
I got to my feet and headed for the back door, which Ted left wide open. We emerged on the other side of the building, only to find the next street over swarming with more hellhounds.
The wound on my chest burned, giving me a constant reminder that we couldn’t afford to stop and fight again.
As we raced down the street, I caught sight of Ted. He tripped on the curb, and a nearby hellhound pounced on him. I winced as it tore his chest to shreds.
I couldn’t help him… or any of the other people who cried out for help all around us. Most of them were trained fighters with more years of experience than I’d been alive, but how many helpless residents like Ted were dying as we fled?
Raxael must have summoned the hounds throughout all of Haygrove, not just in the Courtyard, as we found them everywhere we turned. Several of the structures along my street had been set aflame, though it didn’t look like the fire had made it to my house yet.
Jacob hopped into the driver’s seat of my Cavalier and started the engine. “Run in and get our bags!”
I ran inside, trying not to let myself focus on the fact that, one way or another, it was probably for the last time. There would be no time to go through any belongings or do any of the packing I’d intended to do that day. I would have nothing but our go bags, which sat waiting in the entryway. I slung mine over my shoulder and picked up Jacob’s, then paused to look up the stairs.
“Dammit,” I muttered as I took the steps two at a time. This was my last chance to get anything to remember my family by, and I would never forgive myself if I left empty-handed.
I ran into my dad’s room and found a framed photo of him and my mother holding me as a child. I tossed it and my dad’s old western novel into my bag and hurried back downstairs. As I started out the door, I realized there was one more thing I couldn’t leave behind. I sprinted back inside for Ayla’s old daggers, which I’d been keeping on the mantle above the fireplace.
The extra trip into the house gave a pack of hellhounds time to catch up to us. They leaped out from the bushes and rushed for the car. I picked up my pace and dove into the backseat. When I tried to pull the door shut behind me, a hellhound’s muzzle got in the way. It snarled, gnashing its teeth as it tried to get to me.
I felt the heat of its breath on my leg as I tried to kick it away.
“Drive!” I shouted.
Tires screeched as Jacob slammed on the gas and backed out of the driveway, knocking the hellhound away from the door. I pulled it shut and leaned back against the seat to catch my breath.
The rest of the hounds chased after us, b
ut even with their size and speed, they weren’t able to catch up to the car. Once they were a safe distance away, I climbed into the front seat next to Jacob and buckled my seatbelt.
We were almost out of Haygrove—almost free.
A flaming telephone pole cracked as we drove by, and Jacob swerved to avoid it. I grabbed the handle above the door and held on tight. My poor Cavalier wasn’t built for driving like this. Jacob maneuvered around the hellhounds and people in the streets, until the edge of town was finally in view.
I almost expected Marcus to somehow leap out from a building and stop the car, but as we crossed out of Haygrove and onto the open road ahead, our path stayed clear.
Settling back into the passenger seat, I sighed. My shoulder hurt like all the infernal hells, and we were both exhausted. But though Haygrove burned in the rear-view mirror, we were alive.
“I can’t believe we did it,” I said.
Before Jacob could respond, a dark figure flickered in front of the car, and he slammed hard on the brakes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The car’s momentum sent us spinning, and we came to a stop facing Haygrove. In the distance, the dark grey smoke marred the otherwise clear sky. As everything around us stilled, the wind carried the faint sounds of screaming.
Aside from the infernal wound from the hellhound that still burned, I wasn’t injured. I looked over at Jacob, who appeared rattled but was otherwise fine.
“What was that?” I wheezed.
I jumped at the sound of an insistent tapping on my window. My brain took a few seconds to catch up to the present and identify the familiar man standing outside.
Raxael had returned to his human form. His pristine jet black hair appeared untouched by the chaos we left behind, and his bright green eyes were fixed on me. A smug smile pulled his lips up into a sneer.
He tapped on the window again.
I looked over my shoulder at the back seat. My duffel bag must have been unzipped, as its contents were now scattered across the back of the car. My sword peeked out from under the driver’s seat, just out of reach.