Chapter 3

 

It wasn’t called the veil world for nothing. Most of everything the humans were protected from were hidden behind an invisible force that restrained the demons on one side, the humans on the other, and veil creatures, creatures like Magnus, somewhere in the middle. Being in possession of a partial soul, it gave beings like him the freedom to walk the human plain, which also made them the perfect candidates to stand guard against the demonic forces.

Demons, void of any soul, were restricted behind the gates of hell, gates that were open once a night to allow a small few the luxury of terrorizing mortals for a single fortnight. That was what the angels had agreed upon after thousands from all sides had been slaughtered in a bloody war for eternal dominion on earth.

The angels had appointed Keepers, four houses from the four corners of the world to decide which demons to allow on earth and which to ban. Those demons who did not return after their fortnight were hunted by Casters, by Magnus and his brothers and the warriors of the other houses.

But like Final Judgment, like the other houses, and like the market, the Isle of Cree was one of those places hidden in plain sight. It sat separate from the mortal world by a thin, invisible shroud that kept the monsters from leaking across and humans from accidentally stumbling into their worst nightmares. But unlike the other hidden places, it existed nowhere and everywhere. It was real and not real at all. At least, no one could ever prove it, except Magnus.

It was the place he had lost the last shred of his humanity, his soul, his heart, his reason for living. It was where his sanity had abandoned him and the monster within had been born. It was the place where he had done things that haunted him to that day.

“Stop.”

For a moment, he couldn’t be sure if he had spoken the word out loud. But Reggie pulled the truck to a rolling stop in the middle of an abandoned road lined on one side by wilderness and one side by a rundown trailer park.

Magnus threw open his door and rolled out of his seat. His clothes tore away from the sweat soaking his body. The cold air helped, but it wasn’t enough to stop the madness clawing up his chest.

“Mag?” Reggie got out and peered across the roof of the car to where Magnus stood, panting like he’d run the entire way there. “You okay?”

In the pickup, Dante whimpered. The leather bench squeaked with his uncertain shifting.

“I just…” He turned his back and pretended to study the road ahead, all the while struggling to regulate his breathing. “I just need to make sure we’re going in the right direction.”

They were. With every mile they closed, the anxiety built in the pit of his stomach. It drowned the raging inferno in gasoline, igniting his terror and panic to heights he could no longer control. Every nerve ending in his body wanted to crumple right there in the middle of nowhere and let him die beneath the snow.

“Hey.” Reggie’s approaching footsteps were soft, cautious almost. “What’s going on?”

Magnus hastily wiped at the sweat soaking his brow, then shoved his trembling hands into his pockets. “Nothing.” He cleared his throat and turned back. “We’re almost there.”

Reggie continued to watch him, brown eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Maybe we should—”

“Get in the truck!” Magnus snapped.

He threw himself back into the seat before his brother could push. The slamming of his door echoed in the straining silence. Dante whined and nudged the back of Magnus’s chair.

“It’s all right.” He reached back and stroked the hound’s flat head. “It’ll be all right.”

Dante didn’t believe him. He nudged Magnus’s palm earnestly with his wet snout.

Magnus ignored it as Reggie regained his seat.

“Magnus—”

“Don’t.” He combed five fingers back through his dark, shoulder length hair. “Just drive.”

They drove for hours in a tense silence that meant nothing to Magnus. He knew Reggie wanted answers, knew he probably owed him a few considering what they were about to walk into, but he could think of nothing to say. There was no simple way to explain the nightmare they were about to live.

He was about to relive.

Had lived.

Will live again and again until he died.

He squeezed his eyes closed tight and told himself to grow a pair. He needed to get his shit together. Gideon was relying on him. That baby was relying on him. He needed to suck it up and be the fucking warrior they needed him to be.

“Where to?”

His eyes popped open at the sound of Reggie’s question. He peered at the surrounding wasteland of dead crop fields buried beneath mounds of snow. There was nothing for miles, except an endless stretch of sky that was bleeding black into the horizon. The sun was fading behind them. A fine strip of light glowed in the gash between heaven and earth and he knew they were there.

“Here.”

Reggie pulled the car to the side of the road and killed the engine. In the backseat, Dante raised his head and sniffed the air. Magnus sat still, watching, waiting.

“We will have thirty seconds to pass through,” he told the other man quietly. “If we miss this opening, we will have to wait until tomorrow and that can’t happen.”

Reggie gave a nod. He pocketed his keys, then threw open his door. Magnus waited a heartbeat longer before following. He pulled his seat forward to allow Dante out and to grab their bags. The hound hit the ground on all six paws and wildly shook himself.

“Which way?” Reggie circled the hood and came to stand next to Magnus. He took his duffle and slung it crosswise over his chest.

Magnus jerked with his chin towards the east. “There.”

He glanced over his shoulder towards the sunset, estimating about ten minutes.

“The Chinyu warriors are late.” Reggie shifted. “Do you think this is a trap?”

Magnus shook his head, giving the shadows a passive glance. “They’re already here.”

Reggie swung around. “How can you tell?”

“Because he is Magnus Maxwell,” said a smooth, slightly accented voice from behind them. “He knows and sees all.”

Dante snarled. The hairs along his flank bristled to attention. Reggie spun around. His angelic blade caught the fading light and glinted like fire as it whipped out of his coat pocket.

Magnus didn’t bother. He recognized the voice even before he set eyes on the man.

“Nobu,” he muttered into the sharp winds.

The man looked as he had the last time Magnus had seen him, everything, except for the scar that ran down the side of his left face, the scar Magnus had given him. It had taken his eye, turning the brown a milky white, and got part of his nose before stopping in a V at the corner of his mouth. The deformity only intensified the bitterness and resentment glowing in his good eye.

“Magnus.” Nobu stopped when there were ten steps between them. “The fates have not been kind to you,” he decided, eyeing the jagged gashes on Magnus’s own face, the one Riley’s dad had given him. “Who do I need to thank for that?”

Magnus never batted an eye. “He’s dead.”

Nobu clicked his tongue. “How unfortunate. It’s not every day the great Magnus Maxwell is taken by surprise. I only regret not being witness to your pain.”

Riley had taken him by surprise. She had been trying to save her father from Magnus’s blade. But the demon that her father had become had turned on her instead. The scars on her shoulder matched his. He considered them even.

“At least I can still see.”

A muscle ticked in Nobu’s cheek, but it could have been the trick of the light. “Perhaps for now.”

“Perhaps,” Magnus agreed. “But I beat you once. It wouldn’t be very hard to do it again.”

The left corner of Nobu’s mouth lifted. The gesture twisted the puckered rope of skin. “Another time, I will accept your challenge. We are here for another matter.”

Magnus scanned the surrounding fields. “Are your men going to keep hiding?”

Nobu’s chin jerked up. “We do not simply march into battle until we have assessed our enemy.”

Magnus gave a dry snort. “I didn’t realize these wheat fields were so dangerous, or did you mean me?”

Nobu said nothing.

Magnus shot a glance towards the thread of sunlight still clinging along the edges. “If your men are done playing hide and seek, it’s almost time.”

Leaving the demon warrior glowering after him, Magnus turned and started towards the opposite fields. The snow was deep, but packed enough to sink only to his ankles. Reggie followed alongside him with Dante trotting along behind. The hound kept darting glances back at Nobu.

“So, a friend of yours, huh?” Reggie asked.

“He’s an egotistical, conniving, stain on the name of warriors everywhere,” Magnus replied. “He’d kill his own mother to become the head of the Chinyu clan.”

Reggie nodded slowly. “And his eye?”

Magnus glanced at his brother evenly. “He kicked my bike.”

“After you…?” Reggie prompted.

Magnus shrugged. “I may have insulted his penis.”

“Why?”

“Because he said he’d love to show my sister what a real man was like.”

Reggie frowned. “You don’t have a sister.”

“That is beside the point.”

Reggie sighed. “You really are Gideon’s twin.”

Magnus smirked inwardly. “It was a long time ago. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it.”

“Oh, definitely,” the other man muttered, each word dripping with sarcasm. “Couldn’t feel the animosity coming off him at all.”

Magnus stopped walking. “Here.” He turned to face the five figures silhouetted against the background. Each one was dressed in thick gear perfect for winter, but lacking the most essential necessities like food and water. “Where are your bags?”

Nobu curled his lip as if Magnus had insulted his character. “We are survivors, we will hunt for what we need.”

“Good luck with that,” Magnus reasoned. “You won’t last one night.”

The warrior’s one good eye narrowed. “Maybe this is something a Caster worries about, but not us.”

There were many things Magnus wanted to say that included calling the other man an idiot, but their window was closing the longer they stood there, and really, what did he care if they died? It just made one less person in the world who wanted to kill him.

He turned away and focused on their destination.

“We move in quickly. There’s a thirty second window and if you’re not completely through before it closes, you won’t like what happens.” He faced Reggie once more and lowered his voice. “Stay close to me and move when I move.”

Reggie didn’t ask why. They had been in too many battles together not to recognize a time for questions and a time for action. The four of them had always been a single unit that could practically read each other’s minds when it came to strategy and warfare. Magnus was relying on that to get them through this.

Mentally, he counted down from a hundred. His heart thumped a little fast, a little harder with every second that slipped by. At his heels, Dante paced restlessly, feeling the hot vibrations of the veil manipulating time and space to shimmer into existence.

The last glint of day spiked off the eastern horizon, a split second of piercing light that almost looked like the sun was in two places. In that heartbeat, the two rays collided in the center, mere feet from where Magnus stood, and the field momentarily vanished from view. In its place was hills of rising and dipping sands that stretched endlessly beneath a merciless sun.

“Now!”

Magnus sprinted forward. He heard Reggie do the same. They hit the barrier at the exact same second and tumbled from cutting frost to sweltering desert. Dante hit the sand dunes next to them, followed by Nobu. Then one, two, three of his men.

The fourth hesitated.

He hesitated too long and the portal snapped closed, severing him straight down the middle from crown to crotch, a perfect split. One half tumbled at Nobu’s feet. The other remained behind in the snowy fields of the mortal world. The edges of his corpse smoked ever so slightly. That could have been from the severing or from the blistering sun roasting the meat. But the thing that fascinated Magnus was the lack of blood; the half at their feet was already cauterized.

“Jesus,” Reggie choked, breaking the tenuous silence.

Dante took that as a go ahead and trotted forward, nostrils twitching as the scent of roasting meat collected into the air.

“Keese,” Magnus muttered, not willing to let his dog eat Chinyu flesh; there wasn’t a vet for Hellhounds and the last thing he wanted was a sick dog on his hands.

Dante whined pathetically, but plopped his massive butt into the sand.

Magnus faced the Chinyu leader. “We can’t stay here long. What do you want to do with the body?”

Nobu studied the crispy edges of his warrior and shrugged. “There is nothing we can do for him now. He has dishonored his clan.”

“By what?” Reggie blurted. “Getting chopped in half by an invisible force field?”

“By not dying a warrior’s death.” Nobu raised his chin a notch. “He does not deserve an honorable burial.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“We need to keep moving,” Magnus piped in before Reggie could say anything else.

He patted Dante’s head as he passed, jolting the dog’s drooling attention away from the barbequed corpse.

He didn’t bother glancing at the other warriors. They were no more than mere hindrances, in his opinion. Hulking lumps in his way. He didn’t understand what was so important about this package to warrant such an entourage, but he knew he could have done it alone. It severely annoyed him that he wasn’t. More people meant more annoyance he had to deal with and he wasn’t a man with an extensive amount of patience.

Magnus scanned the overlapping horizon and the endless possibilities of death, and exhaled.

“It really exists,” Nobu murmured, sounding awed.

Magnus peered at him from the corner of his eye. “You took a job and you didn’t think the place existed?”

The other man was clearly in shock, because he seemed unfazed by the jab as he took in their surroundings. “I have heard stories, but I…”

They had all heard the stories, but only Magnus knew what a load of shit those stories were. No one could ever properly describe the exact evil that lurked in that place.

“We need to get out of the open,” he said instead. “It’ll be nightfall in twenty minutes and you don’t want to be out here when it gets dark.”

Everyone, except Magnus, glanced up at the flawless blue sky and the blazing sun crackling overhead.

“It’s only midday,” Reggie said.

“No, it’s not.”

Without explaining, he started north. The sand felt like the ashes of hell beneath his feet. The heat burned through the leather of his boots, making them sweat and throb. The others had already begun to disrobe as the desert seared into their skin, leaving them chaffed and badly burned. Magnus stopped Reggie from stripping, from leaving his clothes in a long trail after them. His brother’s dark hair was matted to his brow with sweat, his clothes were dripping and he was beginning to burn around the nose and cheeks, but Magnus shook his head.

“Keep them on.”

Licking chapped lips, Reggie didn’t argue. “Water…”

Magnus always traveled as if prepared for a camping trip through the mountains. All his bags were packed with the essentials, food, water, weapons, and spare clothes. But he hesitated digging for his canteen.

“We have to be careful with how much of our supplies we use,” he told the other man. “We have a long journey and I only have enough for one.’

Reggie nodded that he understood and took the bottle.

One of the warriors lunged forward, hand extended as if to snatch the canteen from Reggie. Magnus saw the blur of motion from the corner of his eye and reacted.

Magnus clocked him, sending him staggering back five whole steps, clutching his jaw. “That’s not for you.”

“Mag…”

He ignored Reggie’s low, raspy protest by glowering at the warriors. “You stay away from my brother. The next person who comes anywhere near him, will suffer something far worse than death.” He snapped his fingers and Dante trotted forward, unaffected by the heat. In fact, he was the only one loving it. “Partu zetum kare don tra Reggie grun.” To the confused warriors, he said, “Dante will devour the next person who so much as glances at Reggie.”

Dante gnashed his three rows of serrated fangs to emphasis the command.

Magnus shoved Reggie forward, forcing him to move. They had already been in one place too long.

“Is … is that why you brought the hound?” Reggie panted.

Magnus cast a quick glance over his shoulder to where the demons glowered at his back. “Partially.”

Reggie looked at him. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I know.” He met his brother’s gaze squarely. “But getting that package is not their only mission.”

Reggie frowned. “You think they’ve been ordered to kill us?”

“I’d bet my life on it,” he muttered. “In the meantime, Dante will keep you from getting a dagger in the back. Just stay away from them.”

They walked four steps.

“Dante?” Reggie said. “You named him?”

Magnus scowled at him. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Reggie chuckled, the sound slurred. “Mom will kill you if you bring a Hellhound home. She’ll…” He swayed.

Magnus caught him, steadied him, kept him walking. “Come on. Just a bit further.”

“Fuck it’s hot,” Reggie mumbled, head lulling forward. “How … how are you not dying?”

Magnus hesitated. “I used to live here.”

The cave was exactly where it had been all those years ago, tucked away from the brutal claws of death and the things that lurked just out of sight. It was the only source of cover for miles. It was also the safest. At least, it had been the last time Magnus had used it.

“We’ll stay here the night.” He told the group. He led Reggie to the very back where the walls met the ground in a jagged cocoon. He eased the man down. “Rest.”

Reggie coughed, his breathing raspy. “Where the hell have you brought me?”

Magnus gave a heatless frown. “You’re the one who wanted to come.”

Reggie grunted, eyes closed. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

Magnus snorted. “Get some sleep. We have a long walk ahead of us.”

The other man groaned, the sound more like a weak whimper, but he was already asleep.

Magnus left him and made his way to the mouth of the cave. Nobu and his men were clustered in one corner. Sweat and sand caked their naked chests. It flattened their hair to their foreheads and dripped off the ends of their noses.

They were a sorry mess.

“You and your men should get some rest. We head out at dawn.”

Nobu’s cracked lips curled. “What are you playing at, Maxwell?”

Magnus peered out at the yawning sprawl of sand going on for miles. Dante was twenty feet from the cave door, rolling and leaping into the dunes like a puppy in a cool lake.

For a Hellhound, the wasteland of sand and sun was paradise. The hot, stifling air was a fresh, mountain breeze. It had taken Magnus months to adapt to the oppression.

“I’m here for the same reasons you are, Nobu.” Magnus glanced at the warrior. “To complete the mission, even if it means putting up with you.”

Dante trotted over, tongue a fat, red sash flapping from his mouth. He slumped happily against Magnus’s leg. His tail thumped against the dirt floor of the cave, sending tufts of dust into the air.

Magnus set a hand on the flat top of the dog’s head, but kept his gaze on Nobu. “But I meant what I said, if you or your merry band of tools go anywhere near my brother, I will show you who gave Vlad the Impaler the idea to impale his victims.” Waiting a full heartbeat for that to sink in, he added, “I’ll take first watch.”