Hell's Gates (Urban Fantasy)

by Celia Kyle

  My wolf had tasted blood. There was no stopping her now.

  Claws raked my side, tearing out chunks of flesh and fur. My wounds would heal, but my body was taking more punishment than my powers could match.

  Yet I was in a place beyond pain. It was there, but not. Rage, adrenaline and hellfire kept me from feeling anything.

  I hacked through one demon after another, great sweeps of my claws leaving trails of hellfire in the air. The space crackled with heat and the demon blood boiled as it struck the ground, sending up wisps of dark, foul smoke.

  Sam—my mate—was being overpowered by a couple of dems. The wolf wouldn’t allow her mate to be hurt. I rushed forward, grabbed one in my claws, and lifted his body over my head. I tightened my grip, claws digging in and firming up my hold. I released a bellowing roar, my muscles bulging with the strength of the sound, and then yanked the demon in two. His black blood rained down over me and I tossed the pieces of him aside. They flew into the wall with a wet splat and then I sought my next prey. I didn’t have to look far. I grabbed another, spinning him around and smashing him into the wall with a sickening, wet crack. He dropped to the floor in a lifeless heap of broken bones and oozing blood.

  I’d just killed the last of the demons when I heard racing footsteps approaching from one of the other tunnels. I spun, crouched and ready to leap, waiting for my newest adversaries to arrive. A half-dozen dems ran forward, red shapes emerging from the darkness. They paused, skidding to a halt when they saw me; the hulking, burning beast I’d become.

  I roared and leapt, landing among them in a fury of claws, fangs and seething hate. Fire erupted from my body, sizzling their flesh while I tore them to pieces. The scent of the blood had me lusting for more, craving more.

  Near the end, some of them finally had the sense to try and flee. But it was too late. They’d taken one step too far. They’d attacked my son, my town, my mate, my swords.

  I pounced on one and knocked him to the ground, slamming him into the stone so hard I broke most of his bones. I sank my fangs into the back of his neck and gave a mighty twist, snapping his spine. I heaved and yanked back, tearing his head from his body.

  The last dem raced down a corridor, hunting for freedom, but I was on him before he made it around the first bend. I ripped him to shreds, claws and fangs tearing and ripping this beast from Hell. His screams were music that filled my ears, a symphony of pain and horror. At these moments I knew I was my mother’s daughter, reveling in the pain of others. Right then, I didn’t care who I hurt, who I killed. I wanted blood, and I wouldn’t stop until my urges were sated.

  When the last demon fell, I turned, tipped my head back and sniffed the air for more prey. Some part of me, the part tightly bound to the deepest bowels of Hell, was driven to a raging fury at the scent of an angel nearby. I slowly turned, yellow eyes narrowed, and found Sam standing there, bleeding from multiple wounds. The scent of his blood stoked the fires of the darkness in my soul and the Hellborne part of me saw this angel as prey.

  I stalked forward, breath coming in sharp, heaving gasps. Blood and flame oozed from my jaws. Sam looked up at me, his eyes flickering with the red light of the fallen, and somewhere inside, just a touch of the blue they had once known.

  I raised a claw and slammed it forward. My claws rammed into the stone wall beside Sam’s head. I leaned forward, fangs bared, a deep growl rumbling in my chest. And Sam… stood stoic. Watching. Waiting. Trusting.

  I closed my eyes and sought control, pushing the wolf away. She growled and writhed, eager to be unleashed. Either kill or mate. Anything to sate the animalistic urges inside her.

  But this man was not prey. Now was not the time to mate.

  Later, I promised her.

  Slowly, my body shrank back down to its normal size, the magic, hellfire, and rage fading. My fur receded, eyes fading back to their normal, human color. I fell forward against Sam, gasping, the pain I’d ignored finally returning in a blinding rush. I was covered in deep gashes, and while they were slowly beginning to close, I’d lost a lot of blood. Too much for my body to recover immediately.

  Sam pulled off his shirt and tore it open, ripping it into several strips that he wrapped around my wounds. I touched a hand to his bare, muscular chest. The part of me that wasn’t aching in agony appreciated the sight of him.

  The wolf reminded me we promised to do something about that urge later, when we weren’t in so much danger.

  The bandages helped slow my bleeding, the liquid no longer spreading and staining my clothes. Magic brought the fabric back, but I never had an anti-stain spell placed on my wardrobe. Now my natural regeneration could get to work, focusing on healing instead of trying to stop the bleeding first. I pushed back to my feet, catching my breath and swaying slightly.

  “You should rest.” Sam’s strong hand on my shoulder steadied me. “You’re not immortal, you know.”

  “Who wants to live forever?” I smirked. “Besides, there’s no time for rest. Maxim is here somewhere and I doubt he missed all of that commotion.”

  “Reinforcements?” Sam raised a single brow.

  “Not a bad idea.” I strode to one of the fallen dems and tugged my sword free. A pang of regret at the loss of its twin seared me and I wished I’d gone batshit crazy a little sooner. We left the bodies there, making a tactical retreat so I could call in some help and take five minutes to breathe air that didn’t make me want to fight or fuck.

  Once outside the mine once more, I put in a call to Papa Al. I ignored his grumbles, growls and snarls, and told him to round up the papas and the pack. He could ground me later for running off half-cocked without a solid plan. We couldn’t afford to wait for them to show up, but at least the cavalry was on its way.

  Jezze returned before we headed into the mine. “Humans are safe. Knocked ‘em out and they’ll be fine once they sleep off the drugs.”

  I nodded, rubbing some blood off my face. “Then let’s do this.”

  The three of us headed back into the mine, the dark stain that shouldn’t exist in the middle of a watery world and the source of all this trouble. I was aching, exhausted, and horny, but I was ready for another brawl. I just hoped we’d be able to handle whatever else Silaran had to throw at us.

  21

  We climbed down a deep shaft into one of the lower levels. Battery-powered lanterns hung from the walls, and boxes of food and supplies were stacked in a few areas. It looked like someone was settling in long term. As if a doomsday prepper had taken up residence. We moved past most of the supplies without giving them a second glance, but I paused when I came across a pallet of water bottles. I pulled one out of its package and looked at the label.

  The same brand that’d poisoned Bry.

  “Looks like Maxim has been shipping everything from here.” I tossed the bottle onto the stack and then sent a blaze of hellfire into the entire pallet. FYI, water really can burn under the right circumstances. I watched the plastic melt and sizzle, bits of steam and stench filling the air. I brushed off my hands. “Time to put this fucker out of business.”

  Then I heard the howls. Long and low, loud and eerie. Familiar.

  I raised my sword, peering deeper into the tunnel ahead. The flickering lanterns only lit small sections, leaving the rest draped in shadows. And I sensed something ahead, moving among those shadows. Moving our way.

  Dark figures rushed out of the darkness and I braced my legs, sword thrust forward, ready for anything.

  At least, I thought so.

  A dozen dark-furred hounds burst from the blackness, flames licking their maws. They were bigger than any dog or wolf known to the tween, and their bodies were packed with thick, bulging muscles beneath their fur. Their claws dug deep gouges into the stone floor and their howls echoed off the walls like the wails of a banshee.

  “Hellhounds,” I muttered. They normally guarded the circles of Hell against intruders. Apparently someone had decided to breed a pack for their own personal use.

&nb
sp; I jammed my blade forward into the first hound that pounced, letting its own momentum drive the blade deeply into its flesh. A spurt of hot, steaming blood burst forth and the dog let out a yelp like a kicked puppy just before it dropped to the ground.

  I yanked my sword free and swung at another, trying to take off its head. It closed its jaws around the blade, yanking on the metal as if it was a bone. I kicked the beast in the head, trying to pull my weapon free, but it held on with stubborn determination. In a swift motion, I yanked a dagger from my belt and stabbed it deeply into the hound’s eye. It staggered back, releasing my sword, and I brought it around, slicing into the hellhound’s neck. It took two swings to penetrate its thick, fleshy hide before its head tumbled off its body and rolled across the ground.

  “Bite my sword now, asshole.” I spat on the ground, ridding myself of hellhound blood.

  Jezze was juggling four hounds at once, taking all of her power to keep them at bay. A wall of shimmering green protected her, but she couldn’t spare the energy to fire a blast at them without lowering the barrier. I leapt to her rescue, swinging my blade in an unholy fury. I hacked into the beasts’ bodies, cutting deep gouges into their flesh. Several turned their attention on me, snapping their jaws. I deflected them with quick parries, twisting in one direction and then the other to keep them back.

  My distraction gave Jezze enough time to cast her spell. A thick, crackling bolt of green lightning shot forward, blazing through several of the hounds. It burned and boiled their flesh, leaving nothing but charred husks on the ground.

  Sam wrestled with a hound, holding its jaws back with bare hands as it tried to close its teeth around his neck. He was pinned against the wall, beast overpowering him, and I rushed forward. I stabbed my blade into the creature’s back, severing its spine. It dropped to the ground in a lifeless hump and I opened my mouth to smile when Sam swung a fist at me. Or just past my head, pummeling another beast I hadn’t seen. He beat it with his fists until the animal’s skull caved in, and the hound fell beside one of its friends—equally dead.

  The rest pounced on us in a rush. I was knocked onto my back by one, my sword tumbling from my hand. Sam and Jezze held off another pair, leaving me on my own. The hellhound’s jaws snapped at my face, eager to sink into my flesh. I grabbed it by its throat and pushed, keeping it just out of reach.

  Then it inhaled. Inhaled and the flames that wreathed its mouth gathered and grew large. It unleashed a burst of flame like dragon’s breath, spitting the fire at me. I barely pushed it to the side to avoid being burned. The flames melted a hole in the ground next to my head.

  “Fucking mutt,” I growled. I squeezed tighter on its throat as it tried again. I cut off its breath, digging my fingers as tightly against its jugular as I could. It wheezed and choked, body writhing and bucking to get free.

  When it tried to squirm away, I was finally able to flip out from underneath it and find some good leverage. I leapt onto its back, wrapping my forearm around its throat to keep its airway cut off. I pummeled it in the head with my free hand.

  “Almost.” Punch. “Burned.” Punch. “My.” Punch, punch. “Hair.” Punch, punch, punch.

  Within a few moments, its body lost its strength, going limp beneath me. I grabbed its giant head with both hands and gave it a massive twist, snapping its neck. Another hellhound on the ground. Dead.

  I pushed to my feet, gasping for air. Jezze and Sam leaned against the wall, dead hounds at their feet.

  I grabbed my sword from the ground and plucked my dagger from the dead hound’s eye. I wiped both clean on the hellhound’s fur, before the blood could corrode the blade. The blood of some creatures from Hell could be acidic, and it was best to clean it off as soon as possible.

  “Everyone good?”

  They both nodded and I mirrored their action. We were all good—for now. We moved forward, pace slowing as exhaustion crept closer. Maxim had been smart to leave so many guardians protecting his lair. Even if we managed to fight our way past all of them, it was sapping our strength. I could only hope that by the time we found him, we’d have enough left to take him down.

  22

  We moved deeper and deeper into the unnatural tunnels, following the flow of demonic magics that teased my senses. The lure grew stronger and stronger with each step, and a tendril of worry slunk through my blood. How powerful was our foe? I’d dealt with dark magics, but this felt… different—a whole other league.

  The darkness was speared by a low glow, the light increasing as we approached. We moved past aged walls, others holding the fresh shades of newly exposed earth. Crystals jutted from the walls, glowing with a bright, pulsating light.

  Jezze touched one of the crystals and snatched her hand back with a hiss. “They didn’t just choose this place because it’s isolated.” She glanced around the tunnel. “These crystals have been treated with blood. Ritual sacrifice.”

  “Meaning?” Meaning my mother was right and I should have paid more attention to her teachings.

  “It means they’re serving as an amplifier.” Jezebeth looked up the tunnel and then back the way we’d come. “We know this isn’t a natural cave and I don’t think the current residents are the original creators. These stones are old. Anything cast down here will be greatly enhanced and this is the kind of dark magic you only see from a witch or warlock with serious power.”

  Okay, maybe it wasn’t Silaran who was behind the times. Someone still should have updated the place.

  With a sigh, I hefted my one remaining sword. “Lovely. ‘Cause that’s just what we need.”

  The blood magic called to me, shouting louder and louder with every step. It thrummed in my veins, tempting the deepest, darkest parts of my soul. Those parts connected to my mother’s side. The pieces I always struggled to keep under control.

  I gritted my teeth and forged ahead, pushing the dark thoughts and urges aside. If only it was that easy. I was already running on an adrenaline high, wolf more than ready to come back out to play and give in to my murderous thoughts. But I had to keep myself in check.

  I threw my mind back to Bryony, sick and waiting for me back at Momma R’s house. The little guy needed his mom, even if I wasn’t his flesh and blood. He needed me to keep my head. To stay in touch with the human part of me that loved him more than life. I teetered on the edge of giving in to my demonic side, but I’d gotten it under control earlier. I knew I could do it again.

  I glanced at Sam, noting his trembling and tenseness. His fallen, dark heart was no doubt feeding him the same urges. The blood magic would be coursing through him, nudging him toward darkness, trying to force him back down the path of damnation. He kept his jaw set and trudged forward.

  I didn’t know how much goodness and purity remained in him, but I hoped it’d be enough to keep him from sliding back into the dark. He’d been doing so well and I hated to think he’d fall back under the sway of darkness.

  Once again, for me. On my behalf. Because… because I was his as much as he was mine and that’s what couples did. They made sacrifices.

  Sam had made more than most for me. I didn’t want him to make another.

  The tunnel opened into a wider cavern and I scanned the dimness for others. Piles of rubble crowded the edges of the room, the center carved out to make space for dark rituals conducted within. Dozens of circles had been dug into the floor, all painted with… I tilted my head back and scented the air, confirming my suspicions. The wolf told me they were painted with blood. Human. The portals were active but idle. Dark, swirling energies floated above them, the evil shadows waiting to jump into motion. I knew more demons could pass through them at any moment.

  I tapped the flat of my blade with my fingertip, sending a jolt of hellfire through the honed metal before we began our stride across the space. I slashed my pulsating blade through the pentagrams, deactivating them in an instant. I destroyed the runes, making sure dems couldn’t come up at us from behind. The task slowed us, but we were worn out enoug
h without allowing the enemy to bring in reinforcements. We had to make sure our escape route remained clear.

  Not that I planned on running. I was pushing forward until the end, until the entire place came down.

  A long line of circles spread across the far end of the room, natural stone pillars shielding them. My hellfire leapt to attention and did my bidding. I swept my blade in a wide arch, heat shooting from the tip and melting through the stone. The crashing rubble obliterated the circles. The demonic energy from the gates faded away into nothingness and the bloodied crystals of the caves drawing the magic in. When the falling rocks and dust cleared, allowing us to see into the cavern beyond, we found ourselves face to face with a horde of zombies.

  “Oh, lovely.” I raised my sword. “More bad guys.”

  And if the blood of dems and hellhounds smelled bad, zombie bits were even more disgusting. Next year, I was gonna develop a perfume just for tweens that could cover up any stench. Because this shit was rank.

  Jezze raised her hands, calling on her magic, and illuminated the cavern with an emerald light. Sam braced himself for the coming fight, his own sword at the ready, a twist of metal and hellfire he’d created from practically nothing. There’s always something hanging around that evil can pervert to its needs.

  Fallen Angel Sam needed a sword. Fallen Angel Sam filled with Hell’s power made a sword.

  Still, his words haunted me. I saw his glowing red eyes, the hate lurking just behind those orbs, but I couldn’t see him as evil. He was just… Sam.

  We stood in a single line as we faced down the mob—dozens, perhaps hundreds—thirsty for our blood. And just before they charged us, rotted flesh hanging limply from exposed bones, I noticed something that sent chills through my marrow. Each of them had dark, arcane runes etched into their cheeks and foreheads. Every. Single. One.

  Blood magic. These poor souls had been lured and then used as ritual sacrifices. I’d seen this magic before, and it was some of the darkest of the dark. Sacrificing someone in that manner channeled their soul wherever the mage desired, cutting them off from whatever afterlife they’d earned. It was a way for demons, or the dark warlocks who worked for them, to take good, pure souls, and send them to Hell. People who hadn’t even earned damnation would be pulled down into eternal hellfire and torment instead of going to On High like they deserved.