Dark Hunt

by Kim Richardson

  Jax gave Danto a surprised look, clearly acknowledging that someone he hated had just saved his ass. The two men shared a knowing nod, the kind that only men understood.

  “Don’t stop!” I shouted as I willed my legs to go faster. “Keep going!”

  We ran. My shotgun-shooting companions flanked either side of me—a vampire, who was just as skilled with a shotgun as he was with his own razor-sharp claws, and an angel-born, who shot everything that came at us with just a hint of a crazy smile that spoke volumes of the kiss he stole.

  I would deal with him later.

  I couldn’t see Tyrius, but I knew he wasn’t far behind. Probably gouging the eye out of some demon. Good on him.

  I spun as I sensed a presence behind me.

  A creature of raw, red flesh and twisted body covered in blood shambled my way—a morax demon. It looked like a cross between a skinned gorilla and a giant beetle with glassy red eyes, a gaping maw, and claws itching to rip apart my new jacket.

  I couldn’t let that happen. So, I cut it down in three strikes. As soon as I found my footing, I was off again, shooting through the ash, bone, and debris like a cheetah.

  “Why haven’t you Hulked-out yet?” I yelled, spotting Tyrius sprinting a few feet ahead of me, in his preferred Siamese cat size.

  “Because,” panted the cat, “I can’t just turn it off and on whenever I want. It uses up all my energy. I’ll have to sleep after I use it to recover. I want to save it for my favorite Greater demon.”

  “How long does it take you to recover?”

  “Couple of hours,” said Tyrius as he ducked and skillfully avoided being squished by a two-headed demon that got blasted in the next second by one of Jax’s salt bullets.

  Tyrius sprang ahead of me. “Depending on how I use the power and whether I drain every last drop, two hours is best—incoming!” shouted Tyrius as he jerked his head at something behind me.

  I sidestepped and whirled. Bringing out my blades like extensions of my arms, I swung them at the demon. The blades cut the worm-like demon’s chest in quick successions. Just as it fell, another took its place.

  All I saw was a blur as the tips of the claws scratched into my arm. The demon’s mouth moved, a horrid pulpy mess of gray flesh that writhed like a slug. The demon made several gurgling, wet sounds as I sliced through its maw. Blood splattered my face as I stepped over the fallen demon and sprinted towards the entrance to Devil’s Mouth.

  We were almost there. Shotgun barrels glowing an evil red to either side of me, we took the last couple of yards.

  I laughed as I ran even though I felt my legs begin to tire and the familiar weakness from the Seal of Adam on the edges of my body.

  I brushed the feeling aside. We were going to make it!

  Together, we burst into Devil’s Mouth, tearing the night with our pants and howls of war, and I turned around, ready to cut down the demons that followed. But they didn’t.

  I whirled around, realizing it was darker inside than outside. Without the light from the moon, this place was pitch black. The darkness was dominant, and it felt alive.

  “Uh, guys?” I whispered.

  There was a sudden rush of light and I started.

  Countless candles suddenly burned about the room, casting long and crooked shadows along the walls. Demonic symbols were painted on the ground and on the walls with large red stains. The only piece of furniture was a purple, month-eaten upholstered chair that looked like it belonged in the nineteen seventies. It was pushed up at the far end of the room and raised like a throne.

  The room had a ceremonial feeling to it, like a ritualistic chamber where virgin human females were sacrificed to the gods.

  In the middle of the room sat a table carved of blackened wood. The slab rested on the backs of wailing demons, their faces engraved with a look of eternal suffering.

  And tied on top of the table was Cindy.

  27

  Cindy turned her head at the sound of our approach. Her eyelids fluttered open, and her eyes widened, trying to focus. Her once shiny luscious hair was matted and clumped together with blood. Streaks of blood ran down the side of her face where she’d been cut, and her clothes were stained with dirt and blood. Her hands were red at the wrists, the blood that coated them still wet and running.

  My skin tingled at the strong demon energies in the room. I scanned the area, but the only demons I could see, or had seen, were the ones left outside.

  Cindy’s eyes found Danto and her lips moved, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying.

  The air pushed next to me. I swung out my arm, but I missed. Danto was already across the room by the time I had raised my arm. Damn that vampire.

  “Danto! Wait!”

  I ran after the vampire but then skidded to a stop.

  A wall of black vapor rose between Cindy and Danto. The vapors coiled and solidified, revealing a giant red demon with decaying flesh and tufts of black fur along its back, arms and legs.

  In a rage, Degamon backhanded Danto across the face with a massive taloned hand. The vampire soared like a ragdoll across the room and slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch. His shotgun fell from his grasp.

  The black mist shifted, and a dozen creatures of scale and claws and fangs stepped through the haze. Igura demons. Their black eyes burned with hunger. Gleaming death blades hung in their grip.

  “Great, it brought its groupies,” mewed Tyrius.

  Encircling us, the scales of their bodies shimmering in the candlelight, the igura demons muttered in their demonic language as they tightened their circle around us.

  “Angel-born,” said Degamon as it flashed me its mouth full of sharp yellow teeth. “How good of you to come.”

  “There’s nothing good about it, Degamon.” I scanned the room for any other exits. There weren’t any that I could see. “I like what you’ve done with the place—very supernatural chic.”

  A whimper escaped from Cindy. I flicked my gaze to her, and my insides twisted at the fear I saw in them. She didn’t know this was all my fault. Stupid. Stupid Rowyn.

  Degamon moved towards the table. It moved its long fingers along Cindy’s legs, an idle smile playing on its lips. “Such pretty flesh for the plucking,” it chuckled. A sick sound formed in its throat. “The female flesh is so much sweeter, tastier than the human males. Imagine my delight. Now I have two. I must thank you, half-breed,” said the demon as its eyes found Danto, “for bringing me the angel-born.”

  “I didn’t do it for you,” came Danto’s voice from behind me. I turned to see the vampire, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. His body trembled with barely controlled rage.

  “She is pretty. Isn’t she?” Degamon purred as it leaned over Cindy, its black eyes fixing on me. “Pretty soft flesh, with a pretty soft soul,” it said. With a sharp talon, Degamon sliced open Cindy’s chest. I went cold as Cindy cried out. The woman’s blood seeped through her white shirt.

  “Bastard,” I whispered, and Degamon smiled, a smile of terrible things to come.

  Danto moved past me, but this time I was ready and reached out. I grabbed the vampire by the arm and yanked him back hard. He crashed into me and I held him.

  “Wait,” I hissed as Danto squirmed in my hold. When he finally submitted, and I was convinced he wouldn’t do anything stupid, I released him.

  “You must have assumed that I would never agree to let this pretty flesh go,” said Degamon, eyeing Cindy like she was a juicy steak. “Yet, still you came, and still you brought the other female with you.” Degamon watched us intently. “You came alone. Do you intend to fight me? You cannot defeat me, tiny mortals. You will lose. And with your deaths, I will bring forth more of my armies. There are countless lesser demons in the Netherworld, hungry for entrance to this world.”

  “We’re not here to fight.” I stepped forward. The igura shifted but did not come closer. “We’re here to trade.”

  Degamon only smiled, a lazy smile, ripe with promise. “Trade?
I already have your lives in my hands. Without your lives, there’s nothing left to trade,” gloated the demon. At that, Tyrius growled, which warranted a bigger smile from the demon.

  “You’ll want to hear what I have to trade,” I persisted. “And then we’ll walk out of here—the five of us. Including Cindy.”

  Degamon threw back its head and laughed, long and deep. Putting a hand against the table, the demon bent almost double. A thump of anger reverberated up through my feet to the top of my head. God, I hated that red demon.

  “Is it supposed to do that?” whispered Jax, a hint of steel tightening his face.

  I gave him a shrug. “Hell if I know.”

  “Oh, you are such a delight, angel-born!” said Degamon, clapping its taloned hands. “Dinner will have to wait. I’m always in the mood for entertainment.” Its thick lips split in a nasty grin. “Tell me, what do you have to trade?” it mocked.

  My heart raced. “The name of the one who summoned you.”

  “Really?” chortled the demon, though I could see the shift of interest on its face. “And you have that particular name, do you?”

  “Yes, I do.” I took a calming breath. This was going to work. I knew it was. I was almost dancing with excitement. “I give you the name,” I said, “and we walk away free. With Cindy. Agreed?” When it said nothing, I continued. “I know how the summoner’s name takes hold of the summoned. With this name—you’re free. You won’t be bound to them anymore. You won’t be their slave.”

  “I know the rules, angel-born,” informed Degamon, black smoke curling up from its back. “I practically wrote the book on summoning.”

  “So, are we agreed?” I pressed, the tension around me rising with every breath. I dared to look at the surrounding iguras. Darkness and rage sparked in their black eyes. Damn.

  Degamon gave me a chilling look that scared the crap out of me. Its gaze dropped to Cindy and then back to me. “Agreed,” answered the demon, its eyes glinting with eagerness.

  I hid my sigh of relief, but my knees shook at the sound of Danto releasing a long breath. “The dark witch, Evanora Crow.” I said her name loud and clear. There was no mistaking it. She was the summoner.

  I waited. The blood was roaring so loudly in my ears that I could barely hear the growls from the iguras.

  “I gave you the name,” I said, my gut clenching. I hissed as the mark on my wrist throbbed suddenly. “Now it’s your turn to keep your end of the deal. Let Cindy go.”

  The black mist that Degamon had brought with it coiled around him like a moving cape. “You think I’d let some half-breed order me around? And a dark witch at that?”

  I took a breath, a ragged gasp in my throat. “Maybe.” Oh crap.

  Degamon licked its lips with its black tongue. “You are wrong, angel-born. It is not the dark witch, Evanora Crow, who summoned me. You came here thinking you had won, but you have lost. It was never the witch.”

  My jaw dropped. Heart pounding, I felt as if I was wrapped in quicksand. I couldn’t move as my stomach lurched, the ground tipping at my feet. My breath came faster and faster as I felt a wash of panic. I’d been wrong. The dark witch had never summoned Degamon, and now I had killed everyone...

  If the dark witch hadn’t summoned the demon, then who? Who had it in for me? For the Unmarked?

  “Uh… guys?” said Tyrius, and I felt him nudge up to my leg. But I was too shocked to look at him. “I think this is the time to come up with Plan B.”

  Degamon’s expression was mocking, its black eyes spiteful. “A dark witch can’t give me what I want.”

  Fear hit me like a gunshot. “And what’s that?” I gripped my blade as I wavered on my feet.

  “Flesh and blood and... oh, the sweetness of angel-born souls.”

  Moving too fast to readily follow, Degamon grabbed Cindy by the neck. The snap of bone was clear in the cold, dry air. My stomach lurched as Danto screamed and fell to his knees.

  28

  This was far, far worse than I’d expected.

  The iguras hurtled at us in a savage blur of fangs, death blades, and scales. I leaped sideways, grabbed a fistful of Danto’s shirt, and hauled him to his feet.

  “Snap out of it, or you’ll die!” I smacked him across the face. “She’s gone. You’re not!” Cursing, I pushed him out of the way as an igura came tumbling towards us.

  I blocked its blade with my own and sent a kick to its groin. Did it even have a groin? The igura stumbled back. Maybe it did.

  “Behind you!” I heard Jax shout.

  I ducked and spun, sending my blade across the chest of an igura. Warm blood covered my hand and arm as the demon’s entrails flew out of its chest. It fell in a spill at my feet before exploding into dust.

  And I smiled. Maybe we would make it out alive. Just maybe.

  I launched myself at another igura, slashing with my soul blade as I went. I took another step forward, cutting furiously as I moved with the blade whistling as I swung it.

  A deep growl sounded next to me, and I whirled to find a three-hundred-pound black panther tearing out the neck of an igura demon.

  Brightness obscured my vision. I turned at the sudden illumination across from me and saw a ball of light in Degamon’s hand. I retched as the demon ingested Cindy’s soul. It caught me watching and grinned in delight.

  I caught a glimmer of movement to the side, and in a wild dash, Danto hurled himself at Degamon. The Greater demon chuckled as it stepped toward the panting vampire and raised its clawed hand, aiming at Danto’s chest. The vampire’s strikes went wide as the Greater demon moved impossibly fast. It grabbed him and shoved him against the ground, his face smashing into the stone.

  I watched in wide-eyed terror as Danto thrashed on the ground in one final attempt to pry himself free. The Greater demon held firm, as though it had been waiting for centuries to get its hands on the vampire. Degamon squatted over Danto, and with a powerful blow, hit him across the face. Blood flowed freely. Danto rolled away from Degamon, his blood and saliva pooling onto the ground.

  The idiot was going to get himself killed.

  A shotgun cracked, and the weapon beat out a terrible, barking roar, salt bullet rounds flinging out and ricocheting from the walls in a crazy embroidery of terrible violence. Bullets tore demon flesh, splintered bone, and knocked the igura down and over—but still they came, until they were literally torn apart, broken into pieces.

  My legs cramped, and I felt the beginnings of the Seal of Adam crawling back into my system. I knew I didn’t have long before the effects would assault me, rendering me ill and too weak to fight back.

  Movement caught my eye. I let out a scream as I deflected an igura’s powerful strike. A muscle twanged near my spine, twisting and burning with every move I made. I was weakening. My body was screaming to stop, but if I stopped, I would die.

  There were more of them—seemingly coming out of the black mist like a swarm of giant, butt-ugly flies. The demons, monsters from the Netherworld, came at me. Some carried death blades, but some just used their claws. They struck as they passed, their claws slicing into my flesh. They were going to rip me apart.

  The hair on the back of my neck rose, and I whirled, just missing the tip of a death blade. I slammed into the igura, making the demon shriek in surprise. Blood pounding, I flung my blade toward it, and the igura jumped back, just missing my killing blow. The demons were closing in again.

  Howling, cackling laughter echoed in around the walls. Degamon had Danto by the neck, the vampire’s limp body dangling like a puppet in the demon’s grasp.

  Even if he was a blood-sucking vampire, I couldn’t let him die.

  I lost myself in the fury of the events, letting it overwhelm me. I charged. I hit the Greater demon in the back with my blade, pushing it through until I felt the blade hit bone.

  Degamon cried out and released Danto. Up until now, my plan had worked, but now I had the Greater demon’s full attention on me. Crap.

  At the far end of t
he room, iguras rose angrily to their feet. Jax advanced relentlessly onward, firing his salt bullets. The loud blasts of shards tearing up flesh rang in the room. Jax followed them up with another pop from his shotgun. Three iguras tried to stop him, but Jax never stopped firing.

  “I shall enjoy devouring your pretty flesh,” said Degamon, taking a step closer. “Peeling it off you from the inside out.”

  “Chew on this,” I snarled and flung one of my soul blades at its head. The demon was so swift that it scraped its cheek rather than wedging itself between its eyes. Damn. Black blood welled and flowed. It raised a taloned hand to examine it. “You’re the last Unmarked. I will be free of my contract once you’re dead.” Degamon’s expression changed. It was only for a second, but in that moment, I saw furious rage, arrogant pride, and violent bloodlust on its face.

  “And after I kill you, I shall enjoy the fruit of what I was promised.” It sounded convincing and it scared me.

  I spat at the demon’s feet. “You can go back to the Netherworld, you hideous prick.” I stole a look over my shoulder to the entrance of Devil’s Mouth and saw only darkness. The sun would be up soon. If we could just hang on until then, we could make it—maybe.

  Degamon grinned. “The sun won’t be up for another hour,” said the demon, reading my thoughts. “Ample time for me to kill you ten times over… and your friends.”

  At that moment I realized I didn’t hear the pop of gunshots anymore. I backed up, looking behind me, and saw Jax with his machete-like sword in his hand, his shotgun at his feet. He was panting, and he was favoring his left leg. Tyrius had retreated in a corner, facing three igura demons as they laughed and hacked at him with their death blades.

  My heart all but stopped. We weren’t going to make it.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said, fear making my throat tight. “I was wrong about the witch, but I can still find out the name of the one who summoned you. Let me help you. I can set you free. Never to be its slave again. Think about it. What’s your freewill worth to you?”