Page 82 of Infernal Secrets

It wasn’t the woman. Nor was it the three broken infernals that came at her call. Dozens of twisted, broken, and twitching infernals materialized out of the darkness.

I covered my ears against the rising cacophony of gnashing teeth, growls, squawks, and screeches. I couldn’t handle it. This was unlike anything I’d seen before.

When I heard the woman’s voice again, I ran.

What else could I do?

I ran despite the pain in my leg threatening to bring me down. I ran despite the fear flooding my veins. I ran for my life. I wasn’t ready to die.

Across the parking lot, through shadows I’d avoided before, another ramp led down. It was my only hope.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Nothing.

But I heard them. The sounds of their skittering limbs against the concrete, their claws raking the dividing walls, and the gurgled sounds of faceless infernals echoed all around me.

They’d blended into the shadows again. Hunting me.

I couldn’t stop.

My wounded leg screamed for mercy as I slammed into a pillar when I looked back.

Don’t stop.

“Ananeva,” the voice called again. The sound curled around me.

I didn’t know what the word meant. Was it my name in their language? A command? Whatever the meaning, I didn’t want it aimed at me.

Just a little more…

When four horned figures cloaked in shadows stepped into my path, blocking my only escape, I screamed in frustration, stumbling when pain shot through my leg.

Not yet.

I needed to hide.

I needed to live for Grandma. She believed in me.

My eyes darted around, fear tightening my throat, making it hard to breathe. I almost collapsed in relief when my gaze locked on a recessed stairwell behind a row of bins against the wall. The stairs likely led to a maintenance or security room where I could hide and call for help.

Without giving the creatures in front of me time to close in, I pivoted and limped toward the bins, forcing my injured leg to move. I hobbled down the few stairs to the door and tried to open it. Locked. The lights were off inside—no one could let me in.

I slumped against the door.

Now that I’d stopped, I didn’t know if I could move again. I’d run on sheer adrenaline, and now the pain surged through my leg, overwhelming me.

Pained screeches echoed far too close.

I spotted a gap between the bins and wall, just big enough to fit in if I curled in on myself. Pushing myself one last time, I crawled up the stairs and slipped behind the bins, wedging myself between the cold concrete and their heavy protection.

21

PANIC

RAE

My breathing was too loud, but the inhuman noises beyond the bins masked it. I didn’t know what was happening—whether they were angry I’d given them the slip or something else had gone wrong. I wasn’t about to get up and find out. I wasn’t sure I even could.