Hellbound Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book Five)

by Brenda Trim

  “How do we get across?” Kellen asked, shifting his weight, clearly anxious with the sight before him.

  “That one I do know,” Dante interjected. “According to the Mystik Grimoire, we need to summon the ferryman, Charon, and pay him to take us across in his boat. That’s what the coins are for.”

  Rhys turned in a circle, “And, how exactly do we summon him? Here, kitty, kitty.” Rhys pulled out the cell phone he had in a side pocket of his pack, tapping the screen. “Nope, he’s not on my speed dial,” he quipped while searching for a sign of a bell, or chime, or anything that might call the boat to them.

  Dante lowered his backpack and opened the front zipper. “We wait, smartass. My guess is that he knows we are here. Our presence will surely be noticed given the fact that we are the only living beings in this place. Unlike the other areas, we shouldn’t have to worry about other demons and foes while here.”

  “Thank the Goddess for small favors. Well, we may as well rest while we can,” he said, sitting in the dirt.

  Illianna walked closer to the edge and slipped in the mud. Rhys was up on his feet and at her side, catching her as she landed on her ass, hauling her away from the water just as a soul’s hand reached for her.

  Together, they watched the soul snarl at them from amidst a heap of those suffering. Up close, Rhys got a good look at the beings that called Styx home. They were zombie-like with gray flesh that hung off in chunks, making their bones visible in places, yet they were apparitions that he could see through. Their gray eyes flashed with anger, snarling as they watched Rhys and Illianna. One of them had fangs, like a vampire.

  “Please tell me the Goddess protects us from this fate. We live a life of violence as her warriors,” Kellen muttered from above them.

  Rhys looked up at his fellow Dark Warrior and smiled ruefully. “If there is one thing my mother taught me, it’s that the Goddess never turns her back on her own.”

  “That one over there that looks like a vampire?” Kellen challenged.

  Rhys stood up and helped Illianna to her feet. “I have no doubt there are supernaturals in this river, but they are there because they stopped following Her edicts. Shit, I know a few who I can’t wait to send here, like that evil bitch, Lady Angelica,” he replied, thinking of the sorceress who had held Jace prisoner while forcing him to be her sexual play thing. She had also made a pact with Kadir and continued to be a thorn in their side. There was no one more deserving of this fate in his opinion.

  Dante growled and slung his backpack onto his shoulder. “I couldn’t agree more and I hope that Jace and Evzen eliminate her soon. We have enough to deal with involving demons and their skirm. And, your mother was right about the Goddess. She has managed to find a way to help us in a realm where she should hold no power.”

  Rhys was about to respond when Illianna interrupted him. “You haven’t really talked about your mom much. Who was she? It seems like she has a lot of insight into the Goddess for a human.”

  Rhys smiled and reached for his necklace, only to remember that he’d given it to Mammon. “My mom is a handmaiden to Morrigan,” Rhys admitted, watching the shock that crossed all three of his companion’s faces.

  “What? How is that even possible? Demons can’t enter Annwyn.” Dante blurted before Rhys could continue.

  “Mom was sent to earth on a mission and dear-old-dad used his powers to trick and seduce her.”

  “So where were you born?” Kellen asked, retrieving an apple from his pack. Luckily, they had gathered as much food from Mammon before leaving his circle.

  “I was born in the Goddess’ realm. My mother had no idea she’d been tricked by an incubus, let alone that she was pregnant. Morrigan almost didn’t let her return when she discovered what had happened. Thankfully, mom was the most dedicated and loyal handmaiden, and the Goddess couldn’t live without her.”

  “Holy shit!” Dante exclaimed, punching Rhys on the arm. “Why didn’t you ever tell me all this? You have firsthand knowledge of Annwyn.”

  Rhys paced a small circle around his friends. “No, I actually don’t. I never left my mother’s quarters. The tutors came to me and my mom sent me to my dad when I hit maturity. A fully-matured sex demon had no place there so she sent me to Hell, where I belonged,” he practically spat.

  He stopped when Illianna touched his arm. Sparks flew between them and shot straight to the mark above his groin. The pain of the mate mark would worsen until they completed the mating.

  “What was her name?” she asked.

  He wondered at the odd tone to her voice and hesitated before answering her. “Anthea. She is the second-most beautiful female I’ve ever laid eyes on, with her light brown hair and compassionate nature.”

  “You have her eyes,” Illianna said. He cocked his head and considered her.

  “How do you know that?” he asked quizzically. Not that it was hard to conclude given she knew his father had black eyes.

  “Because I was assigned to bring her happiness after she was forced to send you away.”

  All the blood drained to Rhys’ feet, leaving him lightheaded. “You were assigned to my mother?”

  Before Illianna could respond, a chime sounded behind them, followed by a deep bass voice. “Only the dead can cross. The living are not permitted.”

  They all spun around to see a male standing in a small boat. He was dressed in a red cloak that was pulled over his head. With a quick glance, Rhys noted the skeletal hand on the pole. His face was mostly hidden beneath the cowl, but what could be seen reinforced the image that a skeleton lived beneath the fabric.

  “Will you take us if we have the correct obols?” Dante asked, holding out his hand with three coins in his palm.

  The ferryman looked from his hand to the four of them and Rhys went still at the realization they didn’t have enough. “There are only three coins there, cambion. But luckily, two of you share souls, so three will suffice. Climb aboard,” he murmured, gesturing with his free hand. The movement caused his cloak to slide up and reveal his arm. The limb was covered by paper-thin skin, making him look even creepier.

  Beside him, Rhys felt Illianna draw in a breath, but he wasn’t fast enough to stop her words. “I do not share a sou—” her words stopped mid-sentence by his hand covering her mouth.

  She glared at him and he met her furious gaze with one of his own. He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Now is not the time to deny me. Would you like to be left here for my father to find?”

  He waited until she realized the scope of their situation and she shook her head before he released her. “Shall we?” he asked the others as he ushered her to the boat.

  Dante placed the fare into Charon’s hand and they all climbed aboard the small craft. The boat wobbled and water slipped in as they settled into their seats. The boat was made of what looked like drift wood, but felt like stone beneath his palm. He wiggled, setting off ripples again. The seat just wasn’t big enough for him and Illianna. His movements incited the souls and they clamored at the sides, trying to crawl inside.

  When a ghostly hand touched Rhys’ arm it burned with a cold sensation and left a red mark in its wake. Charon lifted his pole and slammed in into the water, stilling all movement within. “That’s why I do not ferry the living. It incites the dead,” the male said aloud, shaking his head. The cowl swayed with his movement and Rhys swore he saw blank eye sockets before it settled back into place.

  The boat was adrift before the ripples settled in the water. They slowly moved along the river in silence. Their tour guide wouldn’t last a hot minute transporting sightseers around Lake Washington with his doom and gloom attitude.

  “So what do you do for fun around here? Whack-a-Ghoul? Do you get more points for the gooey ones?” Rhys mocked, hoping to lighten the mood.

  “Fucking Rhys,” Dante muttered under his breath, making Rhys chuckle. His comment hadn’t ruffled the ferryman. In fact, it hadn’t garnered any reaction at all.

  Shaking his head, Rhy
s glanced around and realized as they traveled that some of the souls looked like they had died in the Underworld, their flesh glistening from puss and old blood. And, the smell was enough to knock him unconscious. The combination of brimstone, sulfur and rotting meat was absolutely putrid.

  A loud scream followed by a splash had him jumping to his feet. Illianna had fallen into the water and was rapidly sinking below the surface to the souls trapped there. His heart began racing in his chest as he watched her struggle. Without thought, he dropped his pack, ready to dive in after her when Charon’s cold, brittle hand settled over his wrist.

  “You must be of stout heart to leave the River Styx,” the ferryman said in a voice that rang like the death knells.

  Without further thought to his warning, Rhys dove after his mate. The icy water was a shock to his system, nearly freezing him in place. Knowing Illianna was suffering and possibly dying gave him the strength to forge ahead.

  Kicking and pulling with all his might, he realized he was making little progress. Luckily, the movement eased the effect of the frigid water on his muscles. Still, it felt like he was swimming through frozen mud. Souls had immediately flocked around him and he could feel them literally sucking the life out of him as he sank. It registered in the back of his mind that the beings below the water had substance where those above did not.

  His sight blurred and spots danced in his vision, making him lose track of Illianna. Panic set in and his chest constricted and burned from holding his breath. He was going to fail his mate.

  Giving himself a mental shake, he shoved the sense of helplessness aside and narrowed his eyes. All he could see were the suffering around him. Shoving several bodies aside, he finally saw her several feet below him. The souls tried to physically impede him at the same time they latched onto his soul, trying to trap him for eternity.

  It felt as if he was drowning and Charon’s words suddenly became clear. The mate bond allowed him to ignore their snare and work his way towards his angel. Rhys clung to thoughts of Illianna to keep him connected to reality. His immediate priority was saving Illianna, but he couldn’t forget the reason he had ventured into Hell in the first place.

  He had to retrieve the Triskele Amulet and stop Lucifer from leaving his prison. The fate of the world depended on him, Dante and Kellen. He was determined to do something that would make his mother hold her head high and be proud to acknowledge that he was her son. Maybe then she wouldn’t want to cast him away like she had done all those years ago. He understood her reasons for doing what she’d done, but that didn’t erase the centuries-old need to earn her approval.

  With his thoughts heading down that negative path, his movements slowed even further and a little more of his life-force left him, making him suddenly exhausted. He closed his eyes, wanting to rest and stop fighting. He knew he needed to focus on how much his mother loved him, to recall what Illianna had told him about feeding the souls around him, but the desire to stop swimming…just for a little while, was overwhelming.

  His fingers touched warm skin and a jolt of electricity shocked him, bringing him out of the temporary funk. The river had almost claimed him, he thought, opening his eyes. Illianna was before him with her eyes closed and her arms floating at her sides. Countless souls were hovering around her and he could see a thin stream of blue light leaving her slightly parted lips and going directly to those closest to her.

  Grabbing her into his embrace, he broke the connection and kicked upward. He expected the souls to fight him, but they remained passive and watched him go. His chest burned with the need to breathe, but thankfully he wouldn’t die from lack of oxygen. He faltered momentarily, wondering if Illianna would survive, as well.

  After what felt like an eternity, he broke the surface holding Illianna and was relieved to feel strong hands pulling them from the water. Collapsing onto his back in the bottom of the little boat, he sputtered water from his lungs, gasping for air.

  “Goddess, you scared the life out of me. Is she alive?” Dante asked from above him.

  “I’m not sure,” he croaked. Damn, his throat felt like he had swallowed fire.

  Rhys glanced down at his angel. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be asleep. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss to her lips, relieved to find she was, in fact, breathing slowly.

  “Yes, she’s alive, thank the Goddess” he sighed in relief. In that moment he realized, Fated or not, he couldn’t do without Illianna by his side.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Shivering, Illianna choked and coughed as the water from the river burned her lungs. Turning to her side she expelled as much of the poison as she could. Her veins burned as the liquid tainted her body. Cracking an eye, she glanced down, expecting to see gaping holes where it felt as if skin, muscle and bone were being eaten away and was relieved to see she seemed to be in one piece. At least on the exterior, she qualified, as the agony continued.

  After all she had been forced to consume during her captivity she wouldn’t have thought the water would affect her so deeply. She hadn’t felt angelic power in years, but it seemed while she may have physically lost her wings, she still possessed her heavenly qualities.

  “You’re okay. I got you out,” Rhys murmured in her ear, rubbing warmth into her arms. Once again, it seemed she owed the demon her life.

  Every time she turned around he was proving to her how wrong she was about him. Her father and brothers were the only ones who had ever gone to such lengths for her and she was unsure how to thank him for what he’d done. The last thing she wanted was to give him false hope about their future together.

  It was bad enough Rhys believed they carried each other’s souls. Hadn’t the ferryman of the Underworld said as much? Charon’s power was centered on identifying souls. He wouldn’t be able to do his job effectively without it…yeah, she wasn’t going to follow that rabbit, it led God only knew where and she didn’t want to go there.

  Having expunged most of the water, she met Rhys’ gaze. The concern she saw floored her. He cared for her deeply and was genuinely frightened for her. Shaking her head, she focused on the obvious.

  “Thank you,” she rasped. “I don’t think I could have gotten out without your help.”

  His arms wrapped around her and she relished the heat emanating from his body. How was he not an iceberg, as well? Was it because of his demon blood?

  “The River Styx isn’t meant for heavenly creatures,” Charon stated matter-of-factly, as if he’d read her mind.

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Rhys quipped. “Can you just get us to the bank? Dante, we need to build a fire when we get across, she’s freezing and my balls are a couple ice cubes. Will you warm them for me, Luscious?” he whispered the last into her ear, making her laugh.

  She placed her cold hands on his cheeks, “Still want me to touch them?” she countered with a small smile.

  “Soon as the fire warms you up, you’re mine,” he promised. She shivered for very different reasons when he placed a gentle kiss to her lips.

  He broke the kiss just before they reached the shore. Thinking about her surroundings was far safer than allowing his kiss to devastate her any more than it already had.

  Focusing on the area, she noted there was nothing different about this side of the river. It had the same sparse trees and black dirt. She missed the color green. Grass, trees, shrubs…anything living. She used to love walking through meadows of flowers in the summer.

  “How are you going to start a fire?” she asked, wondering if the black trees even burned.

  “Dante and Kellen will find something, don’t worry,” Rhys assured her.

  Rhys was always so confident and certain. Not much discouraged him. She loved that about him and knew if he wanted them to build a fire, then they would.

  The boat bumped as it met the shore. “The City of Dys is that way,” Charon instructed, pointing to his left.

  Dante and Kellen jumped out of the boat and helped her. When Rhys landed in the dirt besi
de her she glanced back, but the ferryman and his boat were nowhere to be seen.

  “Where did he go?” she asked, glancing up and down the river. All she saw was the fighting of the violent apparitions on the surface.

  “Hot date?” Rhys suggested with a shrug. “Let’s move away from the bank.”

  “Do you ever think of anything aside from sex?” she teased, following him, more than happy to leave the violence behind. She hated seeing creatures forced to treat each other in such a way. It didn’t matter that they were ghosts.

  “No, I don’t. Even when I’m fighting my inner beast is calculating how much energy I’m expending and what will be needed to recharge. And, now that I’ve met you, I can’t stop thinking about how perfect your body feels wrapped around me and how much I want another taste,” Rhys boldly declared, causing a blush to stain her cheeks. He never held anything back. It didn’t matter that his two friends were there and she might reject his advances. He told her exactly what he thought and how he felt and she admired that.

  Angels didn’t talk to her like that. It wasn’t that angels weren’t direct, but most were afraid of her brothers. They had always sheltered her from the harshness life had to offer.

  Rhys stopped in a copse of trees and pulled her close to his body. She felt every hard line as it pressed into her. She wasn’t surprised to feel the erection straining against his zipper and hoped he wasn’t into PDA.

  “Too bad, getting another taste wasn’t part of our bargain,” she said, forestalling what she knew he wanted.

  “Vixen,” he accused, kissing the side of her neck. “Our bargain was that I am able to give you orgasms anytime, anywhere. And, I can’t think of a better way to warm you up,” Rhys murmured between kisses.

  Slapping his shoulder, she tried to extricate herself form his arms. “That is not happening. Not here in the open with your friends watching,” she denied.

  He lifted his head laughing. He really was the best looking man she’d ever seen, she thought. It wasn’t fair that she had become the focus of his attention. She couldn’t give him what he wanted or deserved.