Page 59 of Cathmoir's Sons

“Disgusting. Smells like someone’s burning tires.”

“That’s not good,” Kellan’s voice drops to a whisper. “They haven’t been able to sense me before.”

“They?” Law and I say at the same time.

“Flaming spiders,” Kellan whispers.

Shit.

I glance at Law. He has the same thought. We both shake into our fur.

“No, no,” Kellan whispers frantically, grabbing a handful of the loose skin on the back of my neck. “Remember what I said. The more you interact with this plane, the more your corporalform is pulled into it. You can’t engage Flaming Spiders with teeth and claws. Benighted Mother, get behind me. Whatever you do, do not cross my line of sight.”

Disgruntled, I shift back into my skin and pull my discarded clothes back on. Kellan steals forward, creeping around a smoking spiral of black stone. Law follows her, holding on to the back of her jacket like a leash he’s going to use to pull her to safety. He’ll be lucky if she doesn’t slap him for that. I follow two steps behind, out of slapping range.

Kellan blows out a soft breath to clear the smoke from the path ahead of us.

Perched on a hillock just above the path are three things straight out of Tolkien’s worst nightmare. What was the name of the giant spider that ate the hobbit? I’ve forgotten. But I doubt I’ll ever forget these three things: massive, black, hairy, andon fireto boot.

Law growls, claws digging into Kellan’s jacket. She shakes him off impatiently and opens her mouth.

Ifeelmore than hear what rolls out of her. Screams are supposed to be high-pitched but this isn’t. It’s a deep boom followed by a roar that rises quickly out of even my range of hearing. It ripples through the air of Hell in a burst of white vapor.

It hits the spider in the middle straight on. The spider explodes in a gush of black ichor and viscera that spatters across the hillside, coating the rocks in burning blood. The two other spiders stagger back from the blast. They reel around as though they’ve forgotten how to coordinate their eight legs. One after another, they collapse, blood and goo leaking out of their joints and ruptured eyes.

“Great Mother,” Law says.

Kellan crosses her arms over her chest as she surveys the destruction.

“Nifty,” says a deep voice behind me.

I whirl to find a man with a huge rack of horns crowning his crimson dreadlocks and burning blue eyes striding up the path toward us. His black tail whips behind him. He’s bare-chested, with wings as red as his dreadlocks folded against his shoulders and back. Well-worn, black leather pants and boots should make him less imposing, but they don’t.

“Jou,” Kellan says, her voice warm and relieved. She pushes between me and Law and meets the demon half-way. He opens his arms to hug her but at a furious snarl from Law, drops his arms to his sides.

Kellan shoots an absolutely filthy glare over her shoulder at Law.

The demon leans forward and offers his cheek to Kellan. She kisses it chastely.

“Mate?” The demon asks Kellan.

“Evidently,” she responds. “Sorry I didn’t send word we were coming via Gabe.”

The demon waves his hand. “You’re always welcome at Ash Hill. Wish you and Feather and Teddy would make your visits permanent. More I see of the way your world’s turning, the less I like the three of you and your babies in it. You should be here with us. Work on Teddy for me, eh? I hear the Holly King’s trying to get her to foster the twins at Ivywhile. They should foster here, with their kin, if they’re going to foster anywhere.”

Kellan holds up her hands. “I’ll put in a good word for you, but you know Teddy makes up her own mind about, well, everything.”

“Ridiculously stubborn mortal,” Jou grumbles. “My nephew did alright in the mate lottery, didn’t he?”

Kellan grins. “He did. Speaking of mates, any chance yours is here?” She hooks her thumb over her shoulder. “Luca would like to meet her.”

“Sure.” The demon’s neon blue eyes track over Kellan’s shoulder to me. “Not trying to be unsociable, but why d’you want to meet my mate?”

I walk up behind Kellan and take her hand. “I’ve heard that Tsara bound the Wild Hunt in her bones.”

The demon nods, horns bobbing. “She did. You smell of death, ink, and ozone, Cat. What’s a linguamancer want with my wife?”

“My magic’s antithetical to my father’s. I can barely stand to be in the same room with him. I want to know what Tsara did to bind the Hunt in her bones because I think it might be the key to enduring Dad’s power.” I flick my eyes to my twin. “And Law’s when he takes over.”

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