by Evi Asher
The stench. There were no words to describe what the ghouls smelled like, and they weren’t even close to her yet. She suspected the smell was a weapon used to incapacitate prey.
That was only the tip of their arsenal. Creatures from your nightmares was an inadequate description. They were humanoid in basic form—trunk, two legs, two arms and a head, and that was where the resemblance ended.
Their limbs were longer than the average limb and they appeared to have two sets of center joint. They had elbows and then another pair of elbows that bent in the opposite direction.
Long fingers on their hands showed two extra joints, and their legs were elongated in the same way their arms were. They crawled across the ground, but Athera saw one rise up to stand, its weird feet splayed wide for extra balance.
Their faces were the most haunting, because they were so utterly human, but their hair was fine wisps that looked like it belonged on a desiccated corpse, not a living creature.
Athera felt terror claw its way up her throat, constricting her air pipe.
“Grave... ” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.
He seemed to know she was about to panic. He turned his head toward her, breaking eye contact with the ghouls for a moment.
“I got you, baby, so don’t panic. I’m here. Just breathe and do what I know you can.”
The endearment coming from him was like a bucket of cold water snapping her out of her panic. It made her heart rate spike, her body tingle, and her mind reboot. If Grave believed in her, then she’d kick some ass.
It didn’t matter if she was terrified or not. It was on.
A terse nod, and her concentration latched onto the nearest ghoul. It was trying to sneak up on Grave.
Athera focused on heat—the heat in her hands—and made the flames burst higher over her palms and up over her wrists.
The ghouls stopped as a unit, watching her. Fire was a thing they feared, and that was good, because it was her best defense.
The lead monster canted its head to the side, as if judging the danger of Athera’s weapon.
Grave took advantage of the distraction.
With a battle cry, he launched himself into the air using his powerful legs and came down on top of the first ghoul with his scythes.
A crisscross gesture, and he neatly separated the monster from its head. Grave jumped back, landing like a cat with perfect balance as the rest of the ghouls took the cue and attacked Grave en masse.
Athera didn’t wait for an invitation. She attacked the ghoul trying to get behind Grave. She lunged, using her flaming hand to touch, and set the creature ablaze in a nanosecond.
It screeched an unearthly high-pitched scream that made Athera want to drop to her knees and cover her ears.
She ignored the pain and spun, feeling a presence behind her. She ducked and felt the air above her head move as the monster swiped at her with clawed hands.
Athera lunged forward, touching her hand to its ankle. Flames burst up and consumed it.
With another spin, she was facing Grave as he finished off the last of the ghouls. He was barely out of breath, while she felt like she’d just climbed Mount Everest without the benefit of oxygen.
His whole body seemed loose and relaxed, like a predator ready to attack the next threat.
Athera wanted to close her eyes and sink onto the ground in relief. They’d survived this stupid test. The vampire king could go toast marshmallows. She’d proved the flame by setting his feet on fire.
As if thinking of him drew her, Athera’s eyes scanned the crowd of vampires around the pit. She stopped when she found the VIP box, her gaze landing on the king as he lounged in a high-backed chair. He had a smirk on his lips, and it made Athera want to climb up there and punch him in the teeth. It was amazing how he looked like a carbon copy of Ryder, except for those eyes. Even at this distance, his eyes were cold enough to make her feel like her corneas were getting frost bite.
She pulled her gaze away from him to scan the crowd. Part of her wanted to memorize faces so she knew who had enjoyed their suffering and who she would find ways to punish if she ever got the opportunity.
Her eyes passed over one person and she backtracked. There was something off about the woman. She was dressed in a cloak with a black iridescence that looked like an oil slick. Colors rippled in rainbow layers as she shifted in her seat. The woman had the hood of the cloak pulled up, putting her face in shadow, but Athera got a sense of comfort from her. She wanted to examine the feeling, but Grave’s voice pulled her from her introspection.
“Are you okay?” He spoke in a soft voice that wouldn’t carry further.
“Yeah, shaken, not stirred,” she quipped. “Do you think they’ll let us go now?” She held onto the faint hope even as she watched Grave scan the walls of the pit for opening doors.
She knew he was looking for the next contestant in their little show. He tensed and turned his body away from her, and Athera had her answer. It wasn’t over.
On the far side of the pit, a door was opening, and whatever was behind door number two was in a hurry to get out.
Scratching and snuffling and... howling?
Athera felt the fine hairs in the nape of her neck stand up, and a low current of electrical terror caused her to reach and rub the gooseflesh off her arms.
A male voice in the crowd started a slow chant, clapping his hands at the end of every line. “Release the hounds.” Clap. “Release the hounds.” Clap.
It wasn’t long before the entire crowd was chanting with him.
Athera narrowed her eyes at him, burning his face into her memory. He would pay for his sadistic glee.
Athera heard a howl so eerie that she shuddered, the wail filling the underground cavern. Vivid images of death and gore and mutilated corpses filled her head, the horror so great it almost rendered her useless..
It had to be some kind of mind trick, some weapon in the arsenal of the creature that was howling. A second voice joined the first, an eerie resonance, then a third.
Athera’s eyes widened and she stepped closer to Grave. How many dogs were there?
The gate holding the creatures back slammed open with force. Athera jumped at the sudden start, then felt a scream climb her throat. There were three... Gods, they weren’t dogs—aiming toward Grave and her.
They were the size of ponies, with barrel-like chests and bunched muscles at their shoulders. Their hind legs looked shorter than their forelegs. Their jaws were massive, making her think of hyenas, but their coloring was off. She expected hell hounds to be black with glowing red eyes.
The glowing red eyes part was accurate, but these hounds were white, like new snow. The only place their fur was less than bleached was at the tips of their ears, which were as red as their eyes.
“Hell hounds?” she asked Grave, annoyed at the squeak in her voice.
He shook his head, not taking his eyes off the hounds.
“Worse.” He stepped forward and swung one of his scythes, spinning at the last instant. The hound he’d attacked yelped in pain and backed off.
Lesson learned. Athera and Grave were not easy prey, and the hounds backed off and started circling them.
“What could be worse than hell hounds?”
Saliva dripped from the maw of the hound nearest them, and as it hit the ground, it sizzled.
Athera amped up her fire, taking it from a fingertip candle flame to a full-arm inferno.
“They are faery hounds.” He lunged forward at the hound trying to sneak around to flank him. His scythe sliced into the creature’s side, causing it to howl with pain and dart away.
How was it possible a faery-hound was more dangerous than a hell hound? Athera didn’t have time to voice the question.
One of the hounds to her left snuck in, and in a blur, latched onto her arm.
Athera let out a piercing scream, her fire burning blue with heat, but the creature held on.
Grave was at her side in a moment, twisting and slashing do
wn on the back of the faery-hound and slicing right through the creature. Its jaws released as it fell in two parts onto the gore-soaked ground of the pit.
“Fire didn’t burn it!” Real panic laced her voice. She could hear it, and she had every reason to panic. She was a phoenix. Fire was her thing. How the hell was she supposed to defend herself?
“They are resistant,” Grave replied, his focus glued on the remaining hounds, who were slowly circling. “Not immune, so make your fire hotter.”
She snorted. How was she supposed to do that? She was at maximum heat level.
A low buzz started in the back of her mind, a sound that was distracting and annoying. She hadn’t hit her head, so she didn’t know what the symptom was from.
The buzz got louder. Athera shook her head, stuck a finger in her ear, and wiggled it. What was that sound?
The distraction cost her when the hounds synchronized an attack at Grave.
Athera screamed as the first hound plowed into the reaper’s chest, pushing him to the ground next to the second hound.
She was useless. Her fire wouldn’t work on the hounds, and Grave was being mauled. Claws ripped down his thigh and she watch blood spurt.
Pure anger made her whole body burst to flame. She took a step forward, her hand outstretched to touch the first hound.
A clear female voice sounded in her head, loud enough to make Athera flinch. Wait! It was not Athera’s voice.
Athera didn’t know what was going on, but she stopped for a second, confused.
The buzz inside her head ratcheted up to a level that made Athera want to fall to her knees and beg for the noise to stop. She didn’t. She stood her ground and waited.
One nanosecond, two nanoseconds.
The sound burst like a balloon popping.
The woman in her head yelled. Now!
Athera didn’t question it. She darted forward and laid a palm on the hound. Flame roared into the air, making a sound like a beast in pain, and the hound turned to ashes before Athera could even touch the second hound.
She reached for the second dog, scared to touch Grave. She didn’t want to kill him while taking the hound out.
Her hand stretched out an eighth of an inch from the hound when she slipped in the viscera from the hound that Grave had cut in two.
Athera fell, her whole body landing across Grave. In a moment, they were both engulfed in flame.
She pulled herself back, almost defying gravity to get off Grave so fast. She watched as the last hound became dust and waited for Grave to burn up, too.
However, as soon as her body moved, his flames started to die out. He stood up off the ground, checking his arms for burns, wonder and amazement on his face.
He looked at Athera, a question in his glance.
She shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I’m clueless.”
Chapter Ten
Athera wished she could read Grave’s mind. She wished she had answers. Why hadn’t he burned? Who was the woman who had shouted inside her head? Was that who had enhanced Athera’s flames? Too many questions, and not nearly enough answers.
The roaring of the crowd brought her back to the reality of the situation. What was next on the agenda?
It took her a moment to realize that the crowd was cheering, clapping, and whistling its approval. Her eyes widened and she searched for the woman in the cloak.
Athera almost didn’t see her. The woman half hid herself behind a tall vampire male, who was grinning and fist pumping the air.
“Humph” There must have been some betting going on. Athera and Grave should get a cut of those takings.
Don’t get sidetracked, Athera told herself, and focused on the woman again.
Her face was deep in the shadow of the hood, so Athera couldn’t see her, but she seemed to give off a sense of self satisfaction that Athera could feel where she was standing.
Who was the woman? Athera had just started to take a step in her direction when the crowd went quiet.
She froze. What next?
She glanced over at Grave, and he shrugged, such a small movement that she could barely see it.
Everyone turned in their seats to face the king.
That arrogant prick had stood up from his high-backed chair.
A throne in every room. She wondered if his toilet was high-backed, then remembered he was a vampire, so he didn’t have those kinds of bodily functions.
A bubble of laughter escaped her.
Grave looked over at her and glared. “I’m glad you find this all so amusing, Athera of the Phoenix,” he said with scorn.
“Hysteria, Your Majesty.” Grave bowed to the king. “I think this was too much for the phoenix.”
Athera suppressed the urge to argue with Grave. He knew what he was doing, soothing the royal-ass’ ego, and that was a good thing, because it looked like the king was about to yell off with their heads.
The king glared for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind.
His features smoothed out of their dictator expression.
“I will say, you have passed your test very well.”
Athera closed her fists and bit the inside of her cheek. If she opened her mouth right now, the king would get a chunk of her mind. Not a piece. Oh no, that ass-hat deserved a big fat chunk.
The king nodded to the guards flanking him and waited.
“Everyone out!” the guard on his left hollered, his voice so loud Athera flinched.
Vampires started to move out of the seating areas, and she caught bubbles of conversation as they discussed the entertainment.
The more she listened, the angrier she got.
“... was fantastic when the faery-hound... ”
“I know, right?”
“... just jumped right on him,” Athera heard them say.
Snatches of conversation reached her ears and fueled her anger.
Who the hell did this monarch think he was? Taking guests to his court and tossing them in a pit with deadly creatures for mere entertainment, then calling it a test. Screw that! The ass was going to pay.
Grave’s hand closed around her wrist and Athera realized her fingers were on fire.
“Not now. Hold onto that anger and save it for later.”
His voice was so soft she struggled to hear everything he said. The blood that soaked his clothes was what got through to her more than his voice. She needed to see to his wounds, and getting into a tizzy at the king was not going to get that done.
Athera quenched the flames dancing on her fingers and straightened her spine. She trusted Grave to keep the two of them alive, and if he was telling her to pipe down, she was going to listen, bide her time and get her revenge later.
The woman’s voice intruded in her mind again. I will find you later.
Who are you? Athera shot back, but all she got in return was silence.
Then all the vampires were out of the underground stadium and only the king and his guards remained.
“I know why you are in my court,” the king announced.
Athera drew in a breath to blast him, but Grave squeezed her wrist again, so she swallowed her words and waited in silence next to the reaper.
“Rumors abound that you have awoken a death deity, little phoenix.”
She wanted to tell him to shut his mouth and not call her that, but Athera kept her own mouth closed instead.
“This is not a good thing,” the king continued.
Duh! Athera just barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
“And now, you need to get into my archives to find out what weapon will kill the god of death.”
Grave spoke up. “If you know all this, why did you pretend you didn’t earlier?”
The king laughed without humor. “This is the vampire court, reaper. Everyone is conspiring against everyone else. It is always a good thing to keep knowledge hidden until it needs to be revealed.”
The king raised his hands and clapped his palms together three times.
Guards ap
peared out of a doorway in the pit and clamped their hands onto Athera and Grave’s upper arms.
“Go and rest and recover now. I will call you in for a private meeting later.”
Athera started to speak. “But—”
“Not now.”
Grave growled softly and Athera shut up and let the guards drag them back into the darkness behind the pit.
As soon as they reached the corridor outside the pit’s antechamber, Athera felt the weight of fatigue hit her. Her legs felt like jelly and her body almost boneless. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep, so she wasn’t paying attention as they were dragged down one corridor after another before being shoved into a room.
The door slammed behind them and Athera spun toward it and heard the lock click into place.
Great. They were still prisoners. “How are we going to get out of this?” she hissed.
“We aren’t. Not until he lets us go,” Grave said from behind her.
She turned toward him and looked down at the torn bloodied clothes he was wearing.
“Go sit. I need to have a look at those wounds.” She glanced to her right and saw there was a first aid kit on the table.
She harrumphed and walked over to open up the kit as Grave took a seat. “At least someone thought ahead.” There was nothing else in the room except a few chairs and a table, so she moved to kneel next to Grave and checked the wounds on his thighs.
“They aren’t bad, Ath.”
His voice was like velvet on her senses, especially when she was this close to him. She had to steel herself to ignore the sensations his rumbling tone caused.
“I want to check anyway.” She tore the leg of his pants open a bit wider to have a look at the wound, then cleaned it with some rubbing alcohol and cotton wool she’d found in the first aid kit.
He was right. The wound was already closed up and healing. “You heal fast.”
“All reapers do,” he said.
“Your side?” she asked.
“It was a scratch. I’m fine. Do you have any wounds I need to see to?”