Page 102 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

Loren’s glaive angled toward the floor, half-dropped so I could jump over it. Loren called after me, sounding strangled, while I closed the gap to Sully. Her eyes were closed, but I wasted no time trying to wake her. I hooked my arms under hers and started backpedaling, dragging her away from the demon holding Whitney like some kind of gruesome trophy.

I scuttled backward, moving as fast as my wobbly legs would pedal and trying not to look at the havoc being wrought all around me. I wanted to forget what I’d already seen because I knew hellhounds couldn’t kill each other, but what Nero had done was… different. Permanent. I couldn’t explain how I knew, but I did.

I went in the direction Loren tried to take me in the first place, stumbling, sobbing, and dragging Sully’s unconscious form.

No fire.

No spark.

It was like I was dead inside. Or dying. And as much as I screamed at the little voice to stir, to wake up anddo something, I got no reply.

Someone did speak, though. That demonic bastard Nero roared so loudly it made my ears ring.

“Lorenzo!”

The exclamation sent a shudder through me, and I looked at what I didn’t want to see: Loren squared off with the demon, holding his glaive with his feet planted as firmly as a man with no intention of running away.

Nero grinned, flashing a mouth full of sharp teeth. “You sly dog,” he rumbled. “I was wondering when I’d find you again.”

Now,Iwas scared. I was fucking terrified while I watched the demon fling Whitney to the ground. If I hadn’t already been sure of the finality of Nero’s attack, watching Whitney’s body shrivel and turn black would have cemented it. Within seconds, he was unrecognizable, reduced to a charred corpse with a gaping hole in its chest.

Bile filled my stomach so quickly I couldn’t hold it in. I sank to my knees and retched, turned away from Sully and heaving, coughing, crying. Burning with acid and dry, useless heat.

The saber that had been lodged in Nero’s side disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving not even a wound in its wake. Like it was never there. Like that devastating strike was little more than a papercut, and I understood.

I understood why Loren ran. Why everyone scoffed when I said I wanted to make a stand. Because Loren was making a stand right now, leveling his blade at the demon’s belly and all I could think about was our night on the Wonder Wheel when he said he would die for me.

Was this it?

Behind Nero, it was dark outside. Long past dusk. The glass entry doors were full of black skies, lot lights, and the distant city skyline. I didn’t know why I stared at that, except that it was far from here. A safer place. Those were getting harder and harder to come by.

As I watched, the darkness changed. The spots of light grew brighter, closer, until the yellow glow spilled inside, burning up the night and silhouetting Nero’s towering figure. When it touched him, he hissed and whirled around.

It gave some credence to legends of vampires to see the way he shriveled from the light, gnashing his sharp, vile teeth and completely distracted from the glaive-wielding hellhound standing before him.

Nero’s turn cleared a path for the light to beam into the bowling alley. It washed over Loren, who yelped a pained cry and broke into full retreat. He darted to my side, and his face was red and blistered like he’d been basking in the sun for hours.

“What is that?” I rasped, tasting bile on my tongue.

Loren didn’t answer, too busy scooping Sully into a cradle carry, then grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the exit that had long since cleared of fleeing civilians.

The light continued to spread. It washed over the brawling hounds, and they broke apart with a series of cries, then scattered toward the shadowy corners of the room.

I’d lost track of Nero. Dottie, Gunnar, and Abigail, too. I held my breath and hoped they would find their way back to Sully’s apartment. We wouldn’t be safe there, but at least we’d be together, and then…

The blinding light began to wane, making it possible to see the figure standing in the middle of it. It wasn’t the demon or any of the hellhounds. This man had white feathered wings spread wide and umber skin that made a stunning contrast to his radiance.

I recognized him, but I couldn’t get a word out. I couldn’t even summon the presence of mind to point before Loren shooed me through the exit door and pulled it shut behind us.

Indy

We took my car,where we propped Sully in the passenger seat and I squeezed in the back, huddled up and trying not to cry. Or cry. Go ahead. It made no difference, anyway. Nothing I did could help and, even if I could muster a few tears, they wouldn’t wash away the images seared into my mind.

Whitney was dead. Gutted and reduced to ash.

Sully didn’t know it yet, but Loren did. His face reflected in the rearview mirror, dotted with broken blisters and slowly healing. He stared ahead at the street as it flashed by, and he didn’t speak. I wasn’t sure he even breathed.

We unloaded at the Urban Easel, bypassing the boarded-over business entrance in favor of the residential access door on the side. Loren carried Sully, and I followed with my head hung and shoulders drooping, feeling more and more useless by the moment.

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