Crouching Tiger, Forbidden Vampire

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  What a worm. Russell glared at the prince. He would let a woman take his place on a dangerous mission?

  “My lady.” Rajiv moved to her side. “There is no need for you to endanger yourself.”

  She rose to her feet. “I have lived my entire life trapped in one wing of the palace. I wish to do this. I need to.”

  Rajiv stepped closer. “Then fight by my side. I will do my best to keep you safe. You have my word.”

  Her mouth curled up. “I am an excellent fighter, Your Eminence. I might be keeping you safe.”

  Smiling, he took her hand. “You have a deal. Although I would prefer taking you somewhere other than hell.”

  She returned his smile, her cheeks blushing. “Well, I’ve always wanted to travel . . .”

  “When do we leave?” Russell asked the God Warrior. “What weapons should we bring?”

  “Your weapons will not work on demons or the inhabitants of hell, for they are already dead,” Briathos replied. “But fear not. We will equip each of you with a sword of fire.”

  “Awesome,” J.L. whispered.

  Briathos gave him a wry look. “The enemy will be using similar weapons on you.”

  J.L. winced. “There’s always a downside, isn’t there? But it could be worse.” He grinned when Russell gave him a dubious look. “We could be on the wrong side.”

  Russell snorted, then asked Briathos again, “When do we leave?”

  “Gather your men. We will meet you in the courtyard in three of your Earth hours. From there, we will take you to the gates of hell.” Briathos’s form shimmered, then vanished.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Three hours later, Russell stood in the courtyard of Tiger Town, flexing his hand around the grip of his new sword. The blade was powerful, the edge fine and sharp, but overall, the sword was surprisingly light. Perfectly balanced, beautifully wrought, but that was probably to be expected with an angelic weapon.

  He studied the engravings on the golden pommel, wondering if there would be fine print that said Made in Heaven, but the lettering there made no sense to him. Of course, he slapped himself mentally. Why would he assume the writing in heaven was related to any earthly language?

  The blade gleamed silver in the nearly full moon. There, he felt it again. A slight vibration against the palm of his hand.

  “Do you feel it?” he asked Angus, who stood beside him.

  “Aye,” Angus replied, studying the hilt of his sword. “ ’Tis most peculiar.”

  “The swords are forging mental connections to each of you,” Briathos explained. “Later, in battle, they will respond to you, unleashing fire when you wish it.”

  “Awesome,” J.L. whispered.

  “You will need to rely on these swords for your protection,” Briathos continued. “Once we are in hell, you will lose all your supernatural abilities. If you are wounded there, let me know immediately. The wound will need to be cleansed with holy water.”

  Russell winced as he glanced around the crowded courtyard. There were still tents filled with ex-soldiers getting turned back to normal. Those who had volunteered to go to hell were gathered on the steps and entrance to the palace. Vamps like Robby, Ian, Jack, Connor, and Mikhail. Shifters like Howard, Phil, and Carlos. Half shifter Phineas and mortals Austin and Zoltan. Even Vamps like Roman and Jean-Luc, who didn’t work for MacKay S&I, had come. They all had wives. Many had children or children on the way. Most had said their good-byes before teleporting here.

  A few of the women were here, like Leah and Abigail, since they were working on the medical team. Right now, they were hugging their husbands, Dougal and Gregori. Rajiv was standing close to Lady Yi-soo, and the two were deep in conversation. Other were-tigers were studying their new swords. Briathos and his unit of God Warriors were at the base of the stairs by the tiger statues. And according to Briathos, those who had volunteered to go with Russell would no longer be able to shift or teleport or mentally control anyone. They would be in even more danger than he’d originally thought.

  He eased closer to Briathos. “You said there would be five hundred God Warriors?” When Briathos nodded, Russell continued, “Could you guys keep these people here surrounded so they’ll be somewhat safe?”

  Briathos looked closely at Russell. “Are you concerned for them?”

  “Well, sure. They have wives and children. And . . .”

  “And?” Briathos asked.

  Russell frowned. “I feel bad that they’re doing this. I would prefer for them to stay behind.”

  “Because you always work alone?”

  Russell winced. How did the angel know that?

  Briathos gave him a wry look. “You were never truly alone. These people care about you. The Heavenly Father loves you. Is it that hard to accept?”

  Russell’s eyes burned. “Yes, it is. What could be remotely loveable about me? I just killed my brother! If I die in hell, I’ll end up right where I’m supposed to be.”

  Briathos’s eyes flashed with anger. “Heed my words, mortal. No one is supposed to end up in hell. The Heavenly Father did not create you to fail.”

  Russell’s breath caught. The angel was right. He couldn’t fail. Jia was counting on him. “I will succeed. I have to get Jia out of there.”

  “You risk your life for the love of Jia. You ask me to protect these people because you care about them. Therein lies the truth you have refused to see. You are loveable because you love with a pure and selfless heart. And when you are offered love, it is because you are worthy of it.”

  Russell blinked away tears as his gaze wandered over all the people gathered there. Six nights ago, Angus had told him they would all accompany him to hell, but he still found it hard to believe. They had been rooting for him the whole time he’d thought he was alone. They were his friends. His family. He was blessed.

  “News coming in from the Heavenly Host,” Briathos murmured, then raised his voice so everyone would hear. “Gabriel and his army have arrived at the gate to hell. It is time for us to go.”

  “How do we—” Russell started, then everything flashed black.

  Suddenly, he was bombarded with high-definition techno-color so dazzling he had to blink his eyes to adjust to it. He was standing with the others in a green valley dotted with bright yellow and purple wildflowers. On either side, snowcapped mountains gleamed under a bright sun. Bisecting the valley was a trickling stream that sounded like music to his ears. A cool breeze caressed his face, filling his lungs with crisp mountain air. He felt a surge of joy and an urge to continue along the stream to the end of the valley, for without a doubt, he knew that would lead him home. He was back in Colorado.

  “Wait a minute.” He shook his head. “This is hell?”

  “Aye.” Dougal smiled as he gazed about. “It looks just like the Isle of Skye.”

  “You mean Colorado,” Russell said.

  Carlos leaned over, as if he was touching something. “It’s my favorite beach in Brazil. Don’t you see the waves coming in?”

  “You each see your home?” Briathos asked, and they nodded. “And you each have an urge to continue in that direction?” He pointed toward the end of the valley.

  “Yes,” Russell replied. “What’s down there?”

  “The gate to hell. It looks pleasant here in order to lure you in. Do not be deceived.” Briathos waved a hand, and the landscape shimmered. The mountains faded away. The colors ran together, mixing into a dull, muddy brown. The soft grass beneath Russell’s feet withered up and turned to dust. They were left on a flat, desolate plateau under a dingy sky.

  It reminded Russell of an old photograph where even the black and white tones had faded into dreary browns. There were no stars, no sun, no birds, no trees. Even the air felt scorched and stale, and the slight stench of sulfur turned his stomach.

  “Everything’s dead,” Angus said.

  Briathos nodded. “At one time, a millennia ago, there were dead trees here and there. But the inhabitants of hell started to draw t
hem and admire their stark beauty. Lucifer had them burned away, for nothing is allowed here that can bring comfort to a sad soul.”

  “So this is hell?” Russell asked. “No life, no joy?”

  “Correct. But given each mortal’s innate need for joy, the inhabitants are eventually lured into finding it where it should not exist, and sadly, that becomes their only source of joy.” Briathos frowned. “They are allowed to torture each other.”

  Russell swallowed hard. “Are they torturing Jia?”

  “Lucifer claims she is being treated well.” Briathos sighed. “But we cannot trust his word. Come, this way.”

  They followed Briathos and his team of six God Warriors and soon arrived at a ridge overlooking a flat plain. A short distance away, there was an enormous walled city, filled with hovels in shades of brown and gray. In the center, a palace of stone loomed, square-shaped and forbidding, with no outside windows or decoration.

  Just below the ridge, five hundred God Warriors were gathered, their golden armor and shields gleaming. Light emanated from them so that they looked like stars reflected in a sea of murky brown. In front of them, the gray stone wall extended as far as Russell could see. It was thick and crenellated like the wall of a medieval castle, but there were no guards in sight.

  “The wall is unmanned,” Russell said. “And the gate is wide open.”

  Briathos nodded. “It is not designed to keep people out. But once you are inside, you will discover the door is closed and well guarded.”

  “So it’s easy to walk in—”

  “But nearly impossible to leave, unless you are in the company of an angel,” Briathos said, then turned to face Russell’s friends. “The large building you see in the center is Lucifer’s palace, where Jia is being held. Gabriel’s army will forge a path down the main street, making a tunnel for us to pass through. After we enter the palace and secure Jia, we will rejoin Gabriel’s army and make for the gate with all haste. Do not allow yourself to be cut off from the group, or you may find yourself trapped in hell forever.”

  Everyone nodded, then Briathos continued, “Once we come under attack from demons and the dead, your swords will activate. But remember, you cannot kill someone who is already dead. And as mortals, you cannot kill a demon. A clean thrust through the heart of your enemy will make them appear dead, but they will revive within an hour. That is why we must proceed as quickly as possible.”

  “Understood,” Russell said. If they didn’t move fast, the dead would keep coming back.

  They followed Briathos and his unit down the ridge to join the army. There, they were surrounded by huge, muscular angels, all armed with multiple weapons, and all grim with determination.

  Gabriel gave the order, and with a tremendous shout and blaring of horns, the army charged through the gate. There was little resistance for a mile or so. Dead souls lined the road, throwing refuse and yelling curses. But when Gabriel’s army drew near to the palace, a horde of demons flashed onto the scene. Hideously ugly, with red, glowing eyes, they wielded flaming swords and chains with metal studded balls. When the balls whooshed toward them, they lit up with fire.

  The God Warriors held up their shields and continued their advance. Angels and demons clashed, their flaming swords slashing through the air, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Clanging noises filled the air as the fiery metal balls hit angelic shields.

  More demons arrived, hundreds of them, flashing onto the scene with a puff of sulfurous smoke. Their ranks began to surround the angelic army. As Gabriel pushed forward to the palace steps, his army grew thinner and more elongated. Russell and his friends were no longer deeply surrounded, and at places, they were close to the enemy.

  Russell lifted his sword, ready to do battle, and the blade burst into flame. He stabbed at demons as he made his way up the palace steps.

  “Oh, no,” Briathos said beside him, and Russell followed the angel’s line of vision. Here on the steps, they had an excellent view of the main street that led from the gate to the palace.

  A huge horde of mortal dead were attacking the angelic army from the rear, pushing them toward the palace. The gate out of hell was now blocked off.

  “I thought we entered too easily,” Russell yelled over the noise.

  Briathos nodded. “Lucifer means to trap us here. If he can get even one God Warrior to join his side, he will consider it a great victory. Come, we must hurry.” He charged up the remaining steps, slicing his way through the demons.

  Russell and his friends followed, their fiery swords clearing a path to the palace door.

  Briathos and Roman yanked the doors open, while Russell, Connor, and Howard stood ready to attack anything that might come out. Surprisingly, there was nothing.

  Briathos gave them a wry look. “It is always easy to enter—”

  “But hard to leave,” Russell finished. Even if he managed to find Jia, it was questionable whether they could escape hell now that the gate was blocked.

  “Sheesh, this place is worse than the Hotel California,” J.L. said, but when Russell and Briathos gave him a blank look, he muttered, “Never mind.”

  Behind them there was a huge roar, and they all spun about.

  “What is that?” Roman asked.

  Another horde of mortal dead charged from the rear, but instead of attacking the angels, they were fighting the demons and other dead inhabitants of hell.

  “The dead are fighting each other?” Connor asked.

  “It’s a rebellion!” Briathos’s face lit up with excitement. “A faction from hell has taken our side!”

  Russell narrowed his eyes to see who the leader was. “Shit! It’s Wu Shen! He’s leading Master Han’s dead soldiers.”

  “Yes!” J.L. pumped the air with his fist.

  Rajiv grinned at Lady Yi-Soo and gave her a high five.

  “This way!” Briathos motioned for them to enter the palace. It was stark and empty, with multiple hallways and staircases leading off the foyer. “We’ll divide into seven groups. Each group must have a God Warrior, or you will risk getting lost in the labyrinth of hallways and rooms. The instant a group finds Jia, the God Warrior will contact the others so that we can all assist with the rescue.”

  The Vamps and shifters quickly divided, and each group took off running. Briathos charged up the staircase on the left. Russell followed, along with Roman, Connor, and Howard. Their footsteps echoed eerily through the palace, lending punctuation to Russell’s thoughts.

  Hold on, Jia. We’re almost there.

  There was something going on. Jia could tell from the hushed, excited voices of those around her in the banquet room, but she didn’t dare ask. Since her arrival in hell, her strategy had been to draw as little attention to herself as possible.

  When she’d first arrived, she’d discovered she’d gone from one throne room to another. Unable to retain her tiger form, she’d shifted back.

  Darafer had tossed her on the floor in front of a throne. “Master, I bring you a live hostage.”

  When she’d looked up, she’d seen a beautiful face with eyes so cold and dead that she’d shivered.

  Lucifer had given her an indifferent glance, then leaped off his throne and backhanded Darafer, sending the demon flying back so hard that he’d crashed into a stone wall. “You failed. The kingdom on earth you promised me has not come to pass.”

  Darafer had prostrated himself. “Forgive me, master. The God Warriors ganged up on me—”

  Lucifer had kicked him. “You let those bastards banish you a second time!”

  “We can get even with them! They’ll come to rescue the girl. And they’ll bring those wretched vampires and shifters with them. We can trap them here. Torture them.”

  Lucifer had straightened, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, as if he’d smelled something sweet. “I will forgive you if Gabriel comes. For millennia, I have wanted to make him suffer.”

  Darafer had scrambled to his feet. “We’ll turn him! We’ll make all of them evil!
”

  Lucifer had cast Jia a dubious look. “I fail to see why they would want to rescue her, but we shall see.” He’d waved at two guards. “Take her to a holding cell until I call for her.”

  As Jia had been led away, she’d almost wished Russell and Rajiv would leave her be. She couldn’t bear the thought of them being trapped in hell with her.

  Before locking her into a small room, a servant had tossed her a red robe. She’d put it on and paced about. Time had seemed to drag by, but she knew it hadn’t been long before her door was opened. The servant and guards had led her down one hallway after another, then up a flight of stairs. Now they were in a large room, lined on one side with windows that overlooked a central courtyard. Two long banquet tables extended down the length of the room, with guests seated on the far right and left sides. They lounged on Roman-style couches.

  At the far end of the room, Lucifer had a table to himself, where he lounged and picked at his food as he watched the others. Jia recognized Darafer, who was sitting on the first chaise to Lucifer’s right. The other guests were unknown to her, except for Master Han, who was sitting on the last chaise lounge on the left. He gave her a solemn look, then frowned at the platter of meat and fruit in front of him.

  Lucifer and Darafer were dressed in crimson robes, their perfectly formed faces and bodies radiating life and power. But the other guests, including Han, were different. Their skin and clothing were in drab sepia tones, as if they were only negative photographic images of their former selves. Jia cringed inwardly. These were dead inhabitants of hell.

  She was led to a fourth table at the base of the two long banquet tables and instructed to sit there among some empty chaise lounges. She tried to make herself look inconspicuous in spite of her bright red robe and healthy glowing skin.

  A hissing sound brought her attention to the floor. Good Lord, snakes! She pulled her legs up onto the chaise and grabbed the knife from her place setting. As her heart calmed its thunderous beating, she became aware of the hushed, excited voices of the other guests.