Page 46 of Bad Moon Rising (Dark-Hunter 17)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"No!" Fang shouted as he saw images on the cave's wall of Misery and company surrounding Aimee and Dev.
He slammed his fist against the rock, ignoring the pain, as he realized he was about to be the death of another woman. It was just like Stephanie all over again. His enemies had found her because of him.
When will I learn? Women were to be protected and he was cursed where they were concerned. It was why he'd tried so hard not to get close to another one.
Aimee shouldn't mean anything to him, but she did, and the thought of her dying tore him apart.
Growling in frustration, he threw his back against the wall so that he wouldn't have to watch her die. But it didn't work. In his mind, he saw what was about to happen and it sickened him.
What could he do? He was trapped here with hardly any powers or much strength. There was nothing here but soul-sucking demons.
Demons . . .
In that instant he knew what he could do to save her. There was one thing a demon and a Daimon had in common. One thing they both needed to thrive and survive.
A soul.
And while he may not have all of his, he had enough of one to entice them.
Fang threw his sword down into the black water. "Demons!" he shouted. "I have a soul for you! Come get some."
No sooner had the words left his lips than the sound of a thousand wings filled his ears. The stench of sulphur and demon body odor invaded his nostrils. He hated this. But he had no choice.
It was him or her and he wasn't about to let it be her.
"Are you out of your ever-loving mind?"
He scowled as a tall, lean man appeared beside him. Dressed in a bloodred cloak that covered black spiked armor, he had eyes so light a blue they were piercing. His brown hair was shoulder length with the front of it falling into those eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of eternity.
And a cruelty that was unrivaled.
Completely calm against the invading horde, he cocked one finely arched brow. "What are you trying to do?"
Fang refused to answer. "Who are you?"
One side of his mouth quirked up into a hint of a taunting grin. "At the moment, the only friend you have."
"Yeah, right."
The demons came rushing in.
Fang braced himself for their attack. "My soul is-" A muzzle appeared over his face.
The man winced. "Don't even say it, kid. You have no idea what it means to have your soul sold. Trust me. It ain't pleasant and you really don't want to offer it up to this bunch. Not when you can do so much better with it."
Fang glared at him as he blasted him.
He absorbed the blast without flinching or moving. "Don't waste the energy. It takes something a lot stronger than you to budge me." Turning around, he shot a bolt of fire at the demons.
Screeching, they retreated.
His face a mask of utter irritation, he pulled a small cell phone from his right greave and held it like a walkie-talkie. "Break them down and send them back."
"Do we have to be nice?" a thickly accented male voice asked.
"Hell, no. Make them suffer."
"Thanks, boss."
The man returned the phone to his armor and met Fang's baffled expression. "Oh. Sorry about the muzzle. But it was necessary to protect you from your own stupidity."
It vanished from Fang's face. He rubbed his jaw where it had been while he glared at the stranger who was too at ease with banishing demons. "Who the hell are you?"
The man laughed. "That's a little more astute than you realize. The name's Thorn and as I said, I'm the only friend you have right now."
"No offense, Misery told me that too and you can see how well that's turned out." He gestured toward the wounds that marred him from head to toe.
Thorn took the sarcasm in stride and returned it with some of his own. "Yeah, well in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Misery. At least not unless you get on my bad side. Then . . . well, let's just say those who go there don't enjoy the experience."
Fang ignored his warning though he could tell by his demeanor that being on Thorn's bad side could be dire indeed. "Then what are you?"
He lowered his cowl. There was an incongruous air around him. One of power and complete cruelty. Yet at the same time, it was as if he kept that under a tight leash. As if he were at war with himself.
How strange.
"Think of me like a governor or a wrangler. It's my job to make sure that the inmates here obey the laws, especially when they go out on parole."
"What laws?"
He smiled evilly and ignored Fang's question entirely. "You've surprised me, wolf, and not many people do that . . . at least not in a good way."
"How do you mean?"
Thorn clapped him on the back. One second they were in the cave and in the next inside a grand obsidian hall. Light glowed from iridescent sconces that were shaped into the twisted faces of gargoyles and skeletal hands. The ceiling arched up a good thirty feet with buttresses that had been carved into the shape of human spines. Opulent, huge, and creepy as hell, it was cold and completely uninviting.
The only thing even remotely appealing here was the giant hearth where a massive fire blazed. A hearth that was flanked on each side by the winged skeletons of two Reapers. Both of which still had a dagger wedged in their rib cages.
Fang grimaced at the sight, wondering if they were real or nothing more than morbid decoration.
Or maybe both. . . .
"What is this place?"
Thorn whipped his cloak off with a flourish. The black armor gleamed in the low light that highlighted the deadly spikes on it. "Stygian Hall. Stupid name, I know, but to my credit, I didn't come up with it. I'm merely the current fool watching over it." A goblet of wine appeared in his hand. He held it out to Fang.
