Page 9 of Touch of Death
I clench my teeth as I watch Hazel take his hand. Anger burns within me at the sight, though out of jealousy over him touching her or simply hatred for the demon himself, I do not know.
Rising from my seat to join them on the dock, I level Charon with a look before realizing Hazel has stiffened, her breaths hitching in her throat.
Turning to follow her gaze, I suddenly realize why Charon was so quick to accept my deal. A massive beast has emerged from the shadows of a nearby cluster of ruins, his eyes trained on us as he stalks toward the end of the dock.
Cerberus.
I step protectively toward Hazel as the hellhound lets out a low growl, his lip curling up to reveal fangs nearly the size of my hand.
“What the hell is he doing here?” I hiss.
“New rules,” Charon calls out, the way his voice carries drawing my attention back to him.
“Damn you Charon, we had a deal,” I shout, realizing he has already returned to his boat and pushed away from the dock, soft ripples marking his retreat back across the river Styx.
“Curse me all you like, but I never agreed to any time frames. Now, I suggest you focus on dealing withhimbefore it is too late for your little mortal,” Charon chuckles darkly before vanishing into the dark.
As much as I cannot wait to make him pay for what he is done, Charon is right about me needing to find a way to deal with Cerberus.
There will be no going back otherwise ...
Not if I want to return with Hazel’s soul intact.
5
Hazel
Fear digs its claws in deeper as I realize I’ve been left alone, stuck between Death and this new monster ... and I don’t know which of them I should fear more.
My heart pounds in my chest as the massive wolf watches me from his great height, the burning embers of his eyes set off by the inky contrast of his fur. His fangs glisten in the dim light, puffs of smoke leaking from between them with each snarl.
Blinking, I suddenly realize what, or ratherwho, he is as flashes of old stories flicker through my mind.
Cerberus, the Guardian of the Gates, and the Keeper of Souls. He’s the one responsible for making sure soulsstayin the Underworld.
Unlike the stories I’ve read about him, he only appears to have one head, though that doesn’t make him any less terrifying. I have no doubt that he could tear me to pieces within seconds if he wanted to, and yet, I find myself strangely drawn to him even as he lets out another low growl of warning.
Without realizing it, I move forward. The creature blinks in surprise as I take another step toward him, his head cocking slightly to one side as I reach out to touch him. The tilt of his head catches the light of the lantern, glinting off a single sapphire ring hanging from the wolf’s notched ear.
Before my fingertips have a chance to brush against his fur, a large, gloved hand wraps around my wrist.
“Donottouch him,” Death says, pulling me back and out of reach of the snarling creature as a chill races up my arm at the man’s touch.
“Why?” I ask, yanking my arm away from him as my heart skips a beat in my chest.
Death flinches and takes a step back, and I feel a strange sense of guilt over my reaction to him touching me.
“Because,” he says carefully, “no mortal soul has ever escaped the Underworld after touching him.”
“Have any mortal soulseverescaped the Underworld?” I ask, my brow furrowing as my mind swims.
“No, not after death,” Death answers after a long pause.
My eyes narrow on him as I try to make sense of my racing heart and thoughts.
“Do I know you?” I ask, unable to bite my tongue before the question slips from me.
“You did, once.”
