Darkness & Lies: A Brotherhood Novel (#1)

by Brandi Salazar

  Letting out a roar of pain, the demon stepped back as he brought the stump to his mouth and cauterized his wound with his tongue, giving Erias notable pleasure at yet another weakness the demon unintentionally conveyed.

  He wasn’t a higher-level demon who could regenerate. He was a lesser on the totem. The only reason he was holding guard duty would have been because he packed one hell of a punch. Which Erias experienced as he swooped in for the kill only to be slammed back into a wall.

  He’d been hit so hard it took several tries to pull himself from to his feet.

  “Are you alright?” Behr asked, having abandoned his chain in favor of a pair of heavy, elaborately carved steel swords and began hacking at the creature, driving him back through the passageway and closer to the door they’d come for.

  Running his tongue over his teeth to be sure they were all there, Erias scooped up the scimitar, sheathed it at his waist and reached inside his coat, snapping the Berettas from their holster. “Never better,” he ground out, cutting a hot path down the corridor.

  “We’re going to have to team up,” Behr grunted as he swung the blade at his thigh and was quickly deflected. “Come at him from both sides.”

  He was tired of playing games, and he was sick of being in this place. With a quick lift of his arms, he leveled the barrels over Behr’s head and pulled the triggers, raining bullets on the behemoth and dropping him like a ton of lead. The stone splintered and cracked beneath him when he collapsed.

  Behr stood there; staring at the solid mass of charred flesh and shook his head in disbelief. “Or we could just do that.”

  Erias wanted to laugh at the disappointment playing on his face, but he was too focused on the heavy steel door barring him from the hall of cells just beyond.

  Stepping over the lump of dead demon flesh, he shouldered the door open and leveled his gun inside the opening, knowing nothing but prisoners were beyond the door, but not willing to chance it this late in the game.

  Tilting his head, he motioned for Behr to follow him inside. Behr waved his hand to Kris, who cautiously stepped out from his hiding place, looked around briefly, then nearly bolted for the door.

  The smell of stale urine, blood, body odor, and decay hung heavily in the moist air, assaulting their senses. Kris covered his nose and mouth, growing even whiter when he caught sight of what lay in one of the cells—if that was even possible.

  Erias scanned each of the cells as they passed, growing more anxious with each one that didn’t turn up Cheyenne. It was the last one that finally stole his breath and made his heart race.

  “In here.” He grunted, forcing the metal bars aside. It took two seconds. One for him to see her and one for him to assess the situation and the rage to explode in his chest.

  Bursting into the room, he wrenched the slight male figure that clung to her body away and tossed his sack of bones to the floor where a horde of ravenous rats swarmed.

  Directing Behr to the torch that hung on the wall, he proceeded to break the chains that held Cheyenne captive while Behr lit a flame and burned a path through the flesh-eating rodents trying to consume the man.

  She was covered in blood, a mixture of her own and the unknown male he had ripped from her. A part of his brain knew the guy had been using his body to shield hers, but the other part was still wrestling with the image of someone else’s hands on her beside his own.

  She had small bites over nearly every inch of her body, including her face. She was small and fragile looking from the enormous amount of weight she had lost, and to top it off; he could smell the cloying stench of that putrid animal, Leseot coating her and knew that she had been subjected to horrors that she might never recover from.

  Using his sword to break through the last chain, he pulled her into his arms as she fell limply against him.

  “We need to get her out of here,” he said over his shoulder as he hoisted her into his arms.

  “Um, E? I think you might want to see this.” Behr was crouched in the middle of the room hovering over the man’s body which had clearly taken the brunt of the attack. His face was gaunt, his body wafer thin and made even more wasted by his six and a half foot tall frame. His skin clung to his body revealing his ribs and spine. Even more telling, however, was the black blood that oozed from his gaping sores.

  He was a demon, of that Erias was sure.

  “We don’t have time for this. Leave the trash where it belongs, we’re out of time.” He started walking out when Behr reached up and clasped his arm, stopping him dead in his tracks.

  With a stern, deadly serious look, he stared up at him. “I think you need to spare a moment of your time and take a look.”

  Impatient, Erias cut a quick look down at the demon and shrugged. “Fine, I looked, are you happy? Can we go now?”

  Unusually annoyed at Erias’s normal cocky impatience, Behr blurted out what was obvious to him but Erias’s advanced age and apparently poor eyesight had missed. “It’s Dehstroy, E,” he called back to him, satisfied that he had finally gotten through when he heard the crunch of his boots on the dirt come to a standstill.

  “Bring him,” Erias said after a long, silent moment, then trudged off the way they’d come.

  Kris gave him an apologetic look then disappeared along with Erias.

  Bending over, Behr slipped his arms under the too thin frame, gathered him in his arms, and followed them out, wondering what the hell could have broken a man as strong and resourceful as Dehstroy, down to the shell he now cradled in his arms.

  Chapter 24

  Cheyenne couldn’t make out the conversation Erias, Atheros, and his friend were having. They stood several feet away, their faces stern, their whisperings harsh, almost argumentative. Except for Atheros, he was so huge, like Erias and the other guy, but his body was thin and fragile looking. His eyes, a deep fiery red, like nothing she had ever seen before, burned intensely.

  No, no matter how weak he appeared on the outside; he was fierce.

  Her thoughts were confirmed when he suddenly cursed a loud, angry slew of words that would have made her blush if not for the fear that was overwhelming her.

  Erias had come for her. He had saved her from that cell, from Leseot’s terrible hands, just as she had dreamed of so many times, but they were not out of the woods yet.

  She smiled warily as Erias approached and slipped his arms around her waist. “Are you alright? You’re shaking.”

  Though she was still trying to believe that he was here, her many prayers finally answered, she clutched him to her, afraid it was all a dream, and he’d disappear if she let him go, and she would wake up back in the cell, dirtied and broken and waiting for death to claim her.

  Their hours together had been so brief, and even though their last moments had been tainted by the unexpected visit of that vile woman, he had come for her, which had to mean something.

  Tremors racked her body, and he tightened his hold. “I’m okay. I’m fine,” she lied. She was anything but okay, but she wouldn’t burden him with her problems right now. This wasn’t the right time. They needed to escape, and the sooner the better.

  Cheyenne looked to where Kris stood. He had his arms wrapped around himself, his head slumped, and seemed to be murmuring prayers into his chest. He didn’t seem to be faring much better than her right now.

  “We need to get Kris out of here.” She frowned, feeling somehow responsible for his plight even though Erias and Kris both had told her numerous times that he had made the decision to come himself. Then she remembered that she was caught up in this too, as well as the rest of them. She looked up, their eyes meeting. “We need to get out of here,” she said more urgently, hearing the hysteria in her own voice.

  Erias pressed his lips to her hair, then another on her lips. “I’ll get you all out.”

  “Promise me.”

  He kissed her again, lingering a little longer this time. “I swear on my life,” he said when he pulled away.

  “E, it’s now or
never.” Behr came up behind them; Dehstroy clutched tightly to his chest, though Erias had to laugh when he caught his expression. For a man like Dehstroy to be so weak that he couldn’t carry his own weight, it had to be killing him. In fact, Dehstroy looked like he was about to destroy something…or someone, he thought, catching the if you smile, I’ll string you up by your toes and your balls look.

  It wasn’t hard to wipe the humor from his face. Glancing over Behr’s shoulder, he caught sight of movement quickly followed by the sight of Leseot and his horde of freaks. Some flew overhead, swooping and diving, weaving their ethereal bodies between and threw the others who bore venomous claws and sharpened fangs. All of them had eyes that glowed red.

  “I couldn’t agree more, brother.” Behr didn’t wait for a signal. He raced forward, grabbing Kris by the collar and wrenching him off his feet. Erias watched for a second longer as his brother moved deftly up the steep incline, Dehstroy in one arm, Kris tucked under the other like a football as if their weight meant nothing to him. A true testament to his strength indeed.

  “Come.” Erias wove his fingers through Cheyenne’s and urged her to the gravelly hillside.

  “I can’t.” She tugged back, forcing him to stop. “It’s too high.” She shook her head back and forth frantically, fear etching lines in her brows as she looked up, and up, and up.

  “It’s not too high,” Erias assured her, tugging on her arm. They had to move, Leseot and his depraved minions were closing in. Their screeches and cackles piercing his ears as their excitement grew.

  She pulled back more forcefully; looking up at him with eyes that pleaded for him to understand. “I’m terrified of heights. I can’t even climb on a stepstool without getting dizzy. I can’t,”—she pointed up after Behr, who was halfway to the summit—“climb that. I’ll never make it.”

  Erias was half desperate enough to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to the top. And he would if she didn’t get her ass moving, but he wanted to handle this diplomatically. He didn’t want her last memory to be of him muscling her against her wishes or ordering her around. Not unless she left him with no other choice.

  As patiently as he could manage, Erias pulled her into his chest and looked deeply into her eyes. “Do you trust me?” She nodded, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all. “Do you believe that I will get you out of here?” Again, she nodded. “Do you think I would ever let anything happen to you?” She shook her head. “Good, then trust me on this. You can do it. I will be right by your side. I won’t let you fall, and I won’t let them”–he pointed at the advancing demons, satisfied that the growing fear in her eyes just might be enough to get her to listen—“touch you. Not ever. Now, let’s go.”

  “But…” Cheyenne looked around her, torn between what she knew she needed to do and what her weary, ravaged mind told her she couldn’t. “I…can’t.”

  Her voice was small and decided, he realized. His eyes went wide at the knowledge that she would be willing to fall to the underworld rather than run for the home plate that was within sight.

  When her shoulders slumped in defeat, Erias felt anger pool in his belly. In one swift motion, he scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, slipping up the incline, flashing ahead a few feet, and stumbling up a few more. Yeah, he knew he was being a Neanderthal, but she forced it out of him.

  It took him longer than it had Behr to reach the top, but he made it all the same. With Leseot hot on his heels.

  Settling her on her feet, Erias joined Behr at the wall, the Gate that Cheyenne and her team had been trying to find when they’d first met. A deep fissure ran down the length of the stone. Long gouges and scratches running the length of it. Dried, black blood stained it and the ground at their feet. All signs of where the demons had been trying to dig their way free from the confines of Hell. And could he blame them? He wanted out too.

  But that would never be a reality for him.

  Erias and Behr pried at the crevasse with their tools, their fingers, putting all their weight into it to no avail.

  “It won’t budge,” Behr panted, leaning his back against the wall.

  Erias felt panic take up residence in his gut. He had to get Cheyenne out. This would not be in vain. Leseot was nearing the top, but his flying battalion was already surrounding them, breathing fire and swiping at them with their long, jagged nails.

  Grabbing Cheyenne, pulling her forcefully behind his back, Erias planted himself firmly in front of her. He wasn’t sure at this point how he would manage it, but if it meant fighting his way through the entire legion of the damned, he’d do it. He would do anything for her.

  “Fucking snake!” Behr gritted, whipping out his glock and checked the clip, then pulled out a silver handled samurai sword with a curved blade for his other hand. “Knew better than to trust the Devil.” He glimpsed his reflection in his blade and bared his teeth. “Well, at least I’ll go down as the most beautiful mother fucker this side of the underworld.”

  Erias would have smiled at that was it not for Cheyenne’s blood-curdling scream. He spun around, cursing that he’d allowed himself to be distracted for even the briefest of seconds. A wraith was careening through the air, abrading her upturned palms with its talons and snagging her hair.

  He felt when his eyes went red, glimpsed the recognition in the wraith's beady eyes a second before he snatched it out of the air with a movement so fast it couldn’t track it. Rage boiling in his veins, Erias ripped the wings from its body, methodically dismembering it until there was nothing left but hunks of unrecognizable flesh.

  Agonizing screams rent the air as the remaining wraiths retreated, leaving Leseot and the others on foot to fend for themselves.

  Erias let out a roar, the craving for more death, more destruction, seizing hold of him. All he saw was red; all he wanted was more blood. It was the whimper that captured his attention. Faster than a blink, he spun around and grabbed the thing that made the sound in his hands, prepared to tear it to pieces too.

  Big brown eyes were wide and terrified. Of him, he realized. Her fear of him brought wash of calm over him. “I’m sorry. I'm sorry.” He tucked her head under his chin, damning himself for losing control like that as her silent sobs let loose against his chest.

  Behind him, Erias could hear the clashing of Behr’s blade and the pops of his gun going off. Hooking her chin with his finger, he brought Cheyenne’s face up so he could look at her. “Stay here. Right here.” She nodded, tears staining her cheeks, but she was trying hard to stifle them. “Good girl.” He kissed her before turning back to jump into the fray.

  Erias was tall and darkly handsome, complex, and though he held secrets and could at times be brutal, she knew beyond a doubt that he would shelter her from any storm. Just as he was doing now.

  Cheyenne watched Erias battling with Leseot, giving and receiving blows so savage she cringed and had to shut her eyes.

  She hadn’t realized she was moving until her back suddenly slammed into a wall. She felt exposed and vulnerable and desperate, sick from all the horrors she’d endured recently and was still enduring now.

  Her hand felt around, seeking comfort, seeking Kris. Sure, they had ended things on a bad note, but he had come here to help her, so she thought that had to mean he still cared. And she was still his friend anyway. She needed human contact, something to ground her while she worked through the terror riddling her insides.

  The wall behind her let out a loud moan and began shifting under her hands. She spun around, watching in awe as the fissure splintered and light began filtering in.

  Silence enveloped her, and she realized that all fighting had ceased the second the wall began to open. Erias’s eyes were on her, but everyone else’s was on that opening.

  “What happened? What did you do?” he asked in wonder, abandoning the demon he’d been fighting to pat her down for injuries. When he clasped her hands between his, he smiled sadly. “Your blood. It was th
e key. I knew that. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  He was speaking to himself, of that she was positive. Forgetting the world around her, she reached up and smoothed the creased etched between his furrowed brows. “You had a lot on your mind.” He nodded in agreement. “You kept your promise. You saved me,” she said trying to make him feel better.

  “No,” he smiled sadly. “You saved me.”

  She had never heard such beautiful words in her life. Throwing her arms around his neck, she buried her head in his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped tightly around her as if he sought the comfort of her body as much as she needed it from his.

  War cries belted out once again, filling her ears to the point of pain. “We don’t have time for this, E!” Behr bellowed, unloading a clip into the heads of several demons gone berserk. It was then she realized what was happening. Their goal was the same as theirs: to get out.

  “We can’t let them leave.”

  “I know,” Behr ground out, releasing her. “Go, follow your friends. Behr and I will cover you.”

  Cheyenne glanced over to see his friend, the one he’d called Behr, holding off the crazed demons with one hand, his sword glinting in a slash of sunlight, the other ushering Kris and Atheros through the opening. Kris didn’t waste time. Looping his arm under Atheros’s arms, he helped him to his feet and unsteadily carried him through The Gate.

  Okay, she could do this. She could leave his side for just a minute, let him his handle business, so they could be safe, and they would be together again.

  “Running out of time, E,” Behr warned, still holding the line.

  Erias grimaced, inexplicable agony flashing so fast across his once again electric blue eyes that she wasn’t sure she had even seen it.

  “I love you, Cheyenne. More than anything.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. Instead, he swept her up in a crushing embrace, plundering her mouth with is tongue, his lips. Pressing their bodies together until she could feel every straining, corded muscle flex and bunch against hers. And even considering the danger they were in, where they were, he managed to stoke a fire in her.