Page 52 of Inflamed By an Incubus

Archer looked at the rest of the team. “Everyone with a rifle is on lookout. I want you forming a perimeter around the camp, close to the mountain. The rest of you split into groups. Gather as much research and equipment you can get your hands on. We’re in and out, people. I’m not hanging around here.”

He glanced at her and then three of the men, singling out the biggest in the team.

“You four come with me. We’re going up.”

She swallowed hard and followed him towards the mountain, doing her best not to look at the pieces of bodies that littered the black ground. When the scent of decay hit her, she covered her mouth and gagged, barely stopping herself from vomiting. Archer gave her a worried look and reached into his pocket, pulled out a clean white handkerchief and held it out to her. She nodded her thanks and took it, using it to cover her mouth and nose. It smelled like him, and faintly of some kind of herb.

Covered the disgusting scent of death quite nicely.

It was a struggle to ascend the mountain using the climbing ropes, one that had the back of her T-shirt soaked with sweat and everyone out of breath by the time they made it up to the ledge. Archer got there first, reached over and held a hand out to her. She grabbed it and thanked him with a smile as he hauled her up and set her down.

The three men clicked their flashlights on and checked out the cave, covering every inch of it.

He looked between everyone. “Gather what you can. Keep your voices down. We’re not sure if there are tunnels running off this cave or if it’s home to something. Group up and stick together. You’re with me.”

Evelyn had expected that. For some reason, Archer had gone into crazy protective mode the moment they had been issued the order to take a team to Hell. She figured it was just because of her previous experience of this realm, but sometimes she had the feeling it was more than that. He was worried about her being here.

She was strong, capable, and could handle this. He didn’t have to worry.

Evelyn turned on her own light and immediately grimaced, came close to gagging again as it revealed the interior of the cave. It had been a massacre. Everywhere she looked, there were dead hunters and researchers, all of them ripped to shreds. The researchers were hardest to look at, their white coats stained crimson with their own blood.

“You seeing this?” One of the men swung his flashlight towards a dead hunter.

She frowned. Someone had taken their clothes. What kind of sick bastards killed someone and then took their clothes?

“What do you make of this?” Lance, the smallest of the three hunters and one she had worked with before, looked back at Archer.

Evelyn closed the distance between her and Lance and frowned at the sheets of paper spread across the floor. They didn’t look like something the researchers had done. They looked like a puzzle. Her eyes widened as she caught a few words on one sheet that would link up with the ones on another.

“It’s a message.” She dropped to her knees beside Archer and gathered all the pieces before her and slowly placed them in order so she could read them. “Brink. Her name is Aryanna. She’s your fated one. Archangel might have her. Take this note to King Thorne of the Third Realm. I owe you and I’ll help you get her back. Grey.”

“Who’s Brink and who’s Grey?” Lance said.

Evelyn was more concerned about the demon king’s involvement in it all.

Archer remained silent.

Evelyn looked up at him and found him staring at one piece of paper in particular, his dark eyes wide and his gaze distant. “What is it?”

He tensed and shook his head. “Nothing.”

It was something, and he didn’t want to tell her. His gaze grew unfocused again as it drifted back to the paper and she tried to make out which one had his attention. It was a toss-up between the one that said ‘Brink’ and the one that said ‘her name is Aryanna’ or it might have been the one that mentioned Archangel.

She stood to get a better angle, one more like his, and he moved before she could chart the trajectory of his gaze.

“Photograph it for analysis.” He swept past Lance, but she didn’t miss how his gaze darted back to the message before he had his back to it.

Something about it had unsettled Archer.

“Are you worried there’s a plot against Archangel in motion?” She came up beside him as he was checking another area of the cave. “Maybe that break-in that happened recently was about this. King Thorne was part of it and we don’t know if this message predates that break-in or not. Do you know of any detainee called Aryanna?”

He quickly shook his head and refused to meet her gaze. He was lying. He knew that name.

Archer nodded towards the back of the long cave. “Let’s move.”

She kept pace with him as he picked his way over the carnage and pressed his handkerchief harder against her face as the smell of rotting meat grew stronger where the air didn’t move as freely. She was going to vomit. She kept her light at chest height and her eyes on the walls, not daring to look at all the dead.

“Tunnel here.” The biggest of the men flashed his light towards it.

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