Chapter Eighteen
The trip to the underworld was seconds longer and highly more disconcerting than a flash. When Zoey flashed the great distance to the Synod, it only required milliseconds longer than a trip across town and an extra bottle of Gatorade.
Aw hell. The Gatorade. Well, she had Creed. And Stryke was down here somewhere. She knew without doubt he’d help her—because that’s who he was.
He’d been listless in the underworld most of his life because he had serious hero tendencies and had been born in the wrong life to help.
Or had he?
If Quution was to be trusted with his intentions, then Stryke was the perfect demon for the job.
The feeling of weightlessness ceased and a dim cave formed around her. Or she formed in the cave.
“You okay?” Creed asked, rubbing his head.
She almost chuckled when she realized she was rubbing her own temples. She clocked in to her body—no weakness, the light-headedness was fleeting, and her salt cravings were idling. “I’m good.”
“Fuck, where are we?”
Faint torchlight flickered from the hallway, or whatever was outside the opening, but it was enough for her acute eyesight to make out the empty cave they were in. A rectangular slab was attached to the far wall, and a fetid smell emanated from a hole in the ground in the corner. She wanted to gag, wouldn’t be surprised if fumes wafted up from the opening.
“Is that the shitter?” Creed went over to check. “Uck, yeah. Is this, like, the underworld equivalent to an efficiency apartment?” He turned back to her. His eyes went wide, and his hand landed on the butt of his gun.
Zoey spun around, ducking at the same time. It was her first mistake. The second-tier they’d driven back down here had his head lowered to spear her with his horns. Unlike Stryke’s warm-chocolate horns, this male’s horns were blood-red with spikes up and down the sides like thorns.
She flung herself backward, but the spikes caught her across the forehead. Searing pain ignited from the wound. She palmed the knife in her tactical belt and buried it in the male’s gut.
He roared in pain and dropped to his knees. She withdrew her knife and readied for another blow, but Creed was already next to her, burying his knife to the hilt in the male’s eye. The male dropped.
Creed wiped his hands off on his pants and eyed the body. “Can they come back from that?”
“Dunno.” The male was smaller than Stryke, with the typical humanoid form of a second-tier, but not as…pleasing as Stryke’s. He was as naked and pink as the day he was spawned. “What about those bugs Bishop said eat carcasses?”
“I don’t want to wait around to find out.”
Zoey ran her forearm over her brow. Dammit, those wounds bled horribly. She squatted down and grabbed the male’s feet and dragged him to the hole in the floor.
“Good idea. No being would want to come back from that. Leave my dagger in him, though, to make extra sure the bastard stays flushed.”
Together, they wrestled the body into the latrine.
Zoey was breathing hard and regretting it by the time they were done. She swiped her forehead again. Her sleeve came away saturated with blood.
Creed frowned and touched his fingertips to the skin around the wound. “You’re not healing yet. Do you think he had some sort of anti-coagulant?”
“That’d be my luck.”
“Totally would.” He used his backup knife to cut the seam by his shoulder, then he ripped his sleeve off and handed it to her.
She used it first to clear the drops of blood rolling past her brows before tying it across her forehead.
She glanced at Creed. “Do I look badass?”
“Like Rambo.” His smile was gone as soon as it had appeared, and he went to inspect the mouth of the cave.
It was good to have her friend back. Would’ve sucked to have lost him, too.
Speaking of males she’d lost, time to find Stryke.
Creed signaled the all clear and they crept into the passageway. According to Bishop, and she could see it was obviously all accurate, the underworld had few identifying features. It was caverns and dirt and tiny roots sticking out of the walls. Torches dotted the underworld system, casting soft light and even more shadows throughout the passageways.
She let her senses flare. Could she sense Stryke? Melody? She’d been incredibly close to Stryke, had fed from him. Closing her eyes, she listened for an inner thrum, an intuitive suggestion, hell, just an itch on one side of her body.
Nothing. She blinked her lids open as sadness engulfed her. For months before Stryke had charged into her life and dragged her unconscious body away from a portal, she’d been plagued with a sense of anticipation. Afterward, when her feeling had come to fruition, she’d been confused, upset, and…secure, filled with a sense of rightness and finality that she…dammit, that she absolutely missed.
“Fuck. I don’t know. This way.” Creed chose to take a right and stalked off.
Scowling at his back, her frustration with herself swelled. Stuck in the underworld, unable to make a damn decision. This wasn’t her. She’d always been confident and focused. Now, she dithered about whether to take a left or right and the significance of not being able to decide.
She squared her shoulders and palmed her dagger, afraid the noise of a gun would attract too much unwanted attention. Brimstone clogged her nostrils and she wanted to gag as they walked through intermittent pockets of rotting-garbage stench.
They approached a fork in the path. Skittering sounds echoed from one side. Creed ducked into an opening on their left and Zoey slipped in behind him.
No torches glowed in the cave they’d popped into and they were shrouded in darkness. The scratching grew closer and Zoey could make out garbled words from a rough female voice.
“She said you were propositioned when you were last in the realm.”
“She knows not what she speaks,” a male with a high-pitched nasal voice replied.
The female coughed, or maybe it was a laugh. “That’s true, but she’s been after you for a while.”
The male’s derisive chuckle was loud in Zoey’s ears as the couple passed in front of their hiding spot. “Lover, she’s after everyone.”
“True. She is shameless. ’Tis what most males like about her.”
The voices faded and Zoey was tempted to step out and stare after them. She’d caught a glimpse of bipeds as they’d crossed the opening but couldn’t see much beyond that. Her best assumption was that they were two second-tiers in a committed relationship.
How odd.
She’d thought Fyra was an oddity. Then Stryke had come along. And Quution, whose sincerity was yet to be tested. Now, a couple who seemed more concerned about infidelity than cruelty.
Creed shot her a look with an arched brow like he’d been thinking the same thing. Zoey shrugged and peered out. Clear.
They resumed their search, pausing at the fork. Another right? Left?
The couple had left a trail of brimstone musk. Zoey wrinkled her nose. Had they just fucked?
It was stronger from the left passageway. She and Creed simultaneously readjusted their trajectory to the right. If the two demons hadn’t been worked up about anything, hopefully nothing of interest lay in that direction.
More of the same greeted them. Frayed roots, torches, stench, and enough sulfur smog to burn her nose hairs.
How had Stryke maintained his pleasing wood-fire scent surrounded by this smell?
How would she manage to get a damn thing done thinking about Stryke all the time?
She was about to brush off her thoughts when a faint electrical sensation thrummed down her spine.
Wait. She knew that feeling—when Stryke trailed his fingers down her back.
She increased her pace until she had to shoulder past Creed. He let her, sensing she must be onto something.
The feeling stayed faint until she caught a whiff of a male’s scent that curled around her center and woke up her desire.
“He’s this way.” Zoey was nearly running, only holding back enough to maintain her stealth and avoid running headlong into stupidity.
***
Stryke and Quution located the sacrificial chamber.
“No one’s here,” Quution growled. He stomped his hidden platform boots. Walking in those couldn’t be comfortable, but he believably towered over Stryke.
“Hypna’s chamber.” Stryke spun and took off at a trot. Quution shuffled behind him.
Stryke had to hand it to his brother. He was committed to his ruse. Staying in that atrocious getup was more convincing than his willingness to help Melody.
“Do we wait for Bishop and Fyra?” Quution asked.
Stryke didn’t slow. “Fyra knows where Hypna lives. She’ll find us.”
They wove through passages, avoiding other demons when possible. The few instances they crossed paths with a second-tier, Quution snarled at them as they bowed in reverence. Stryke didn’t bother trying to cover for anything—or himself. He was in his typical underworld uniform of buck naked. And being with Quution would be understood once Hypna was dead and he “worked” for his brother.
He slowed as they neared Hypna’s cavern so Quution could quiet the noise he made. Melody’s tremulous voice drifted out of the entrance to the cave. His brother came up even with him, his breath not as labored as his journey had sounded.
Stryke sent his energy feelers out. Melody’s terror was the first vibration he sensed. Hypna’s conniving glee. Pain. Must be from Melody. The walls trembled and Stryke knew that feeling well. Hypna had used her powers to compel roots to the surface. He could guess Melody was wrapped as tightly as those Christmas presents humans coveted this time of year.
He glanced at Quution. His brother’s eyes were narrowed and his horns angled forward. Was he testing for energy with those cumbersome things?
Stryke had never used his horns like that. Or for anything, really. They were just horns—barely worthwhile.
Thanks for the biology lesson, dear Mother. He brushed his sarcastic thought away and straightened his horns.
He jerked. Hellfire. They were like amplifiers.
In the multitude of sensations streaming in like they had a direct line to his brain, only one was significant enough for him to filter it out.
The electrical buzz he sifted out reminded him of a salty-sweet dessert. Zoey.
Quution’s gaze flicked up to Stryke’s horns, then he raised a brow in question and cocked his head toward the far end of the corridor.
Stryke nodded that yes, he detected Zoey.
He couldn’t worry about her when facing off with Hypna. Concentrating on the cavern, he formed the massive amount of energy waves into a picture.
Melody was cocooned to a wall with the root system Hypna could manipulate. With her injury, it was probably for the best to have the compression. Hypna paced, her anger sending hard vibrations out from all around her like a homing beacon.
And Melody talked. And talked. And talked.
Stryke tucked his horns back in and he and Quution inched closer.
Melody’s voice was surprisingly strong despite the amount of blood Stryke smelled. “That’s a really cool trick. I don’t know what I’d do with plant powers. I mean, I kill anything I come across. I think the aloe plant growers have a ‘most wanted’ sign with my picture. I killed an aloe plant in twelve hours. Can you believe it? I left it outside overnight last spring and it froze. To be fair, it took a few days to completely die, but I knew it was toast. It was my third plant. I had a transplant from my grandfather’s aloe plant. I should’ve known that if I couldn’t keep that one alive, I just shouldn’t try. I mean, he was so damn proud of that plant. It took a few months, but it died. I just couldn’t put it in a spot with enough sunlight.” Melody chuckled weakly. “I guess growing aloe’s a lost cause with vampires, huh? Why do I keep wanting to try? I guess because they’re so useful. Have you ever burned yourself? What am I asking? Look at all the torches, of course you have.”
“Wench, if you don’t shut your mouth, I will stuff it so full of roots they’ll crawl out your eyeballs.” Hypna paused. “That might be fun. Tell me, human. Do you think you would die from that?”
The squeak from Melody was her confirmation. “I’m sorry. I talk a lot. It happens when I get nervous. My parents used to fight a lot and by that I mean, they’d say something insulting, then not talk for days. One time it was a week—”
“Wench!” Hypna’s power ramped up. She was going to follow through on her threat.
Stryke nudged Q. His brother nodded and soundlessly drew a knife as long as a sword from a scabbard on his back. Stryke had nothing but his bare hands and that was all he needed to rip Hypna apart. If she pumped him with that toxin of hers, he’d shred his dick to kill her.
She sought to destroy his young. He wasn’t going to subject any child of his to a mother like her, or a sire like his own. His apathy from earlier washed away and he embraced his rage.
Melody’s words melted into a yell and Stryke made his move.
He pounced into the cave. Hypna’s back was to him and he plowed forward. He didn’t grab her around the neck or tackle her. He went straight for her horns. Wrapping his hands around their warm lengths, he jerked her head back and shoved a knee into her back.
She cried out and tried to twist but fell to her knees.
Roots sprouted from the floor, but she was too distracted to direct them. Quution appeared in front of her, his knife drawn back, ready to attack. Stryke wrestled with her and one horn slipped free. As fast as an eel, the ugly purple thing reared backward and grazed him along his neck.
The sting of her poison seeping in only spurred his strength. Clenching his jaw, he caught the horn again and wrenched it with a mighty twist. It cracked like a bone and Hypna unleashed a stomach-curdling scream.
He did the same with her other horn. They were still attached, but she sagged with a wail.
He loosened his hold. A mistake. With an enraged snarl, she twisted on him and punched him in the gut. Her strength and anger poured into her hit and dislodged Stryke. He stumbled back. Quution swung, but she ducked and tried to yank his feet out from under him. He danced back, but lost his balance and cartwheeled back into the wall next to Melody.
Twines gagged the girl and the vines along the floor started to flourish. Stryke sent his energy through his feet to zap them in mass quantities. They wriggled and recoiled but recovered quickly, like their master.
Hypna screeched to her feet and held her arms out to beckon her weeds. With her horns incapacitated, it was her only weapon left.
Quution lobbed a ball of energy toward her head. She lunged left and the ball went right and headed for Stryke.
Stryke threw his hands up like he was catching a kid’s rubber ball, but before contact, he shoved it back toward Hypna’s center mass. She wasn’t paying attention while crouched to attack Quution. The mass of light knocked her in the back of the head and she dropped.
“Mistress!” One of Hypna’s second-tiers rushed into the cave and pulled to a stop. A second lesser demon crashed into her back.
Hypna groaned and rolled to her hands and knees. “Don’t just stand there, dolts. Kill them!”
The female dove for Stryke, her fangs bared. Stryke’s first thought: he hated fangs. Hated getting bitten. With one exception. His next thought: ooh, she’s female. Damn Hypna’s poison. Stryke had zero interest in sex at the moment, but his body was helpless to the effects. He also had nil interest in any female in the chamber, and again, his body didn’t care. He used his fingers like guns and shot energy at her heart. She dropped like a stone and he chuckled. He’d always disliked the rest of Hypna’s second-tiers.
Quution did nearly the same with his attacker, but Hypna had recovered. She reared up, her claws elongated to talons, her fangs dripping poison. An ability he hadn’t known she possessed.
Her sinister chuckle echoed in the sudden silence. “Are you happy to see me, Stryke? We used to have some good times together.”
He centered his energy, ready to unleash hell on the demoness. “No, we didn’t.”
“I’ll make you a deal. I don’t care which of you impregnates me, but I’ll let the girl go if one of you does.”
“It’s not just the girl,” Quution said, his voice back to guttural grunts. “I’m putting a stop to the sacrifices.”
Her lips curled in a sneer. “Who do you think you are?”
An evil smile darkened Quution’s face. “The one who’s gonna show you what it feels like.”
Stryke paused, his orbs hovering above his hands. Could his brother steal her abilities without her acquiescence? One of them would end up dead.
Quution began a chant. A strangled gasp left Hypna. More shouts carried in from the corridor, jerking all their attention away.
Hypna slowly turned her head back to Quution, who’d stopped mid incantation. “Looks like you might have to wait on that.”
Blood roared in Stryke’s ears as a salty-sweet scent caressed him. His erection raged, painful and full. He wanted to vomit and rut at the same time. The orbs disappeared as he slammed his palms to his eyes and crashed to his knees.
Sweet brimstone. Zoey was outside the room and he wanted nothing more than to pin her against the wall and fuck hard, no matter who or how many people were around. The thought sickened him further and he dropped to his hands to retch. The power of Hypna’s toxin, his raging libido for Zoey, the seedy voice telling him it didn’t matter as long as there was vagina to thrust into, and the fact that they were fighting for Melody’s life, Q’s secret, Zoey’s life—it all mixed into a putrid mixture in his stomach.
He couldn’t be fucking useless. Not now. So many more beings counted on him than just his project of the moment. Stryke wanted to help and he’d been handed the opportunity. He blinked and craned his head up.
A flash of Zoey’s ever-tight bun went across the opening. She fought a second-tier and had just gutted him. She crossed into to the room and ripped a bloody strip of fabric off her head. Her gaze landed on him and he calmed himself enough to read her expressions. Relief, a flash of heat, and blankness. Her gaze had fallen to his erection. Her gaze narrowed on Hypna and her knuckles whitened around the hilt of her bloodied knife.
Creed pushed around her. His clothes shone with patches of dried and fresh blood. He crossed to Melody in record time. Her eyes were as round as a full moon and she strained to holler for him around her gag. The chrysalis she was wrapped in undulated with her movement.
Stryke let out an anguished cry, his body shaking while he kept himself from jumping the female he’d wanted so badly to call his own. Zoey stepped toward him and stopped, the corners of her mouth pulled down like she was unsure if she’d make it better or worse. He wished he knew, too.
Quution’s voice cut through his sensual haze. His brother had resumed chanting.
Hypna roared and rushed Q. He settled in a defensive position and maintained eye contact, an arrogant tilt to his mouth. She grabbed a dangling horn and drew back.
Stryke’s lust-induced fog lifted. That bitch was not going to hurt his brother. He took off from his hands and knees like the gun had gone off for a race. Tackling the demoness, he ripped her away from his brother before her horn made contact. They tumbled to the floor.
Quution’s voice cleared and rose in volume. Stryke wrestled the demoness until they ended up with him on his back and her back pinned against him. Hypna thrashed, throwing her elbows back. The jostling against his cock was absolutely unwanted, but again, his cock was morbidly satisfied it was getting touched at all. It was enough to fuel Stryke’s fury. He wrapped his arms around Hypna’s head to snap her neck, but she went rigid, her threats and barks cut-off.
Her body shook and flopped, but Stryke didn’t let go. She vibrated with energy, her body warming until Stryke had to mentally prepare himself for holding her while she scorched him.
Oh fuck. Her power was gathering to transfer to Q. Stryke wasn’t sure how he felt about his brother risking himself, but there was no time to analyze anything as Hypna’s body lit up like a nest of fireflies had found realty under her skin.
Quution’s brow popped. Had he not been sure it’d work? He swayed on his feet and his face drained of color.
An occasional elbow would dig into Stryke’s side. His dick was bookended between them but it was better than being in her, so he wasn’t going to complain.
Another nightmare-inducing sound ripped from her throat and she redoubled her efforts as she grew brighter and hotter.
Enough of this. He wasn’t going to let his brother kill himself destroying Hypna. Stryke would break her neck and decapitate her, let the scarabs feast.
Dirt rained down from the ceiling and the torches flickered but didn’t blow out.
“The energy’s too much for the cave!” Stryke snapped her neck before half the underworld fell on their heads.
Strong hands gripped his shoulders and pulled. The dirt shower started filling with bigger and bigger chunks.
“I don’t have Melody free yet!” Creed yelled.
Quution hit a crescendo as he finished the chant. Hypna’s body twitched and stiffened.
Stryke managed to get to his feet with Zoey’s help and he shoved her behind him. Q was riveted to his spot, his morbidly curious gaze glued to Hypna. The spell was going to work whether Hypna was conscious or not. And maybe Q would survive without Hypna’s resistance.
Beams of light shot out from all directions. Creed glanced over his shoulder. He only had Melody’s bloody top partially freed, but he grabbed her in a bear hug. The veins stood out in his neck as he strained. Her mouth gaped open in pain, but he didn’t let up.
The energy hovered for a second, like Stryke’s orbs did when he was directing them, only this energy formed a line pointing to his brother. Her powers were going to transfer to Q. The whole cave shook.
With a desperate roar, Creed extracted Melody, but his momentum with Melody’s sudden weight unbalanced him. He tripped backward and overcorrected. Melody dropped from his arms, but her legs couldn’t hold her and she fell on top of Hypna. The light sucked back in with the interruption. Hypna’s body glowed and vibrated under Melody.
“No, no, no,” Quution shouted. “She can’t interfere. Get her off—”
A sonic boom dropped a chunk of ceiling, nearly clipping Melody’s head.
Then it all went silent.
Melody lay limp over Hypna, smoke tendrils rising from her body. Quution remained rooted in his spot, his mouth open in disbelief, displaying his garish prosthetics. Stryke’s lust haze rammed back into him and he dropped back to his knees to keep from mounting a fully clothed Zoey. Zoey didn’t help by resting a hand on his back and asking him what was wrong.
“Hypna…her powers.” Quution’s words crept into Stryke’s ears past his internal struggle. “Her power was outside of her body, but when the human interrupted the spell, it tried to get back into Hypna but settled in the next closest life source.”
For the second time, it all went silent. Not even Stryke’s screaming dick could move him.
Melody had absorbed Hypna’s power? Creed’s face went ashen. Zoey hadn’t moved and Quution was good as a stunned statue.
“Oh god,” Zoey breathed. “Is she alive?”
They all watched while Creed gently lifted Melody and cradled her in his arms. She flopped, arms and legs lifeless. He touched her brow and bent his head to listen to her heart and check for breathing.
“She lives.” Creed spoke so low he was barely audible.
With the relief, Stryke’s libido came roaring back.
Quution sensed the change and crossed to him, glancing at Creed monitoring Melody’s pulse. “He was poisoned. You need to leave or he’ll attack you.”
Instead of backing away, Zoey squatted down. “Will it pass?”
“No,” Stryke croaked. “Not for hours.”
Zoey craned her neck around. “Are we safe here, or will other members of the Circle find us?”
Quution lifted his faux-saggy shoulder. “They’ve sensed her death, no doubt. I can go and answer for it.” His gaze touched on Melody and softened. “I will, of course, not go into detail about the circumstances.”
“Where’s a place I can take care of him?” Zoey asked.
Stryke’s head popped up and he went temporarily deaf as his body screamed at him to take his female this instant. But she wasn’t his female, and he wouldn’t defile her in front of witnesses and not on a dirt floor.
“Are you certain?” Quution asked in a measured tone.
“No!” It was the only word Stryke could get out.
“Yes. And we need a safe spot to care for Melody and figure out a way to get her and Creed back home.”
Quution’s eyes swept over Melody’s limp, sunshiny hair. “I’ll take care of the girl.” His lips flattened. “And the vampire. Come.”
Zoey tucked her hands under his shoulders to lift him. Stryke tried to struggle, but his body would follow Zoey anywhere.
His feet threatened to tangle up on themselves, but he remained upright as Zoey tugged him along by the hand. Quution swept out of the cave with a quick word to Creed to stay put.
In his haze, he had no idea where his brother was leading them. All he registered was Zoey’s sugar-tinged scent, and his gaze constantly tracked the curves of her body, the arch of her neck, the way her hips swayed.