Page 25 of Hell Raising and Other Pastimes (Grave Concerns 2)

“I find people tell me that when they don’t want to tell me something. It doesn’t seem to have much to do with what’s best for me.”

The mist swirled, moving from the way I approached. It parted, but Hunter caught my chin and brought my gaze to his.

“Trust me, shadow-girl, there are things in hell you don’t want to see. You’ll leave here, go back to your regular life and you don’t want those images in your head. Some things, once they get in there, you can’t get them out.” His gaze was so serious, it made me pause. Though, beneath that there was something more.

Instead of pressing, I pulled away. I’d hadenoughof men with hang-ups. I didn’t need to unravel anything else.

“So this is where that alcohol came from?”

Hunter nodded, keeping up with me as I started back down the path. “Yep. The ambrosia plants are harvested and ground up. They’re about the most valuable thing in hell, at least outside of mortals.”

“And they use a flimsy wooden fence to keep it safe?”

Hunter bent down and picked up a rock from the edge of the road, rolling in his palm for a moment before tossing it over the fence into one of the fields.

Plants near the house moved, from at least three separate spots. The tall branches shifted as whatever it was barreled through us, and those small moments of bravery fled entirely. Something dark, angry, and with flames struck the fence, bouncing off it.

Not a fence, but a ward of some sort.

My ass hit the ground after I stumbled backward. Even though I didn’t see any real details, I’d spotted more than enough to make it clear I should avoid the fields.

Hunter reached out for my hands, then tugged me to my feet. “They keep those things in the fields to discourage anyone who thinks about stealing. Not that it stops them. I’d say a few a day still try it.”

The idea of that made my stomach uneasy. “What happens to them?”

Hunter glanced to his side, his gaze hitting the mist that swirled over the field and near the ground.

He didn’t need to say it. It seemed I’d gotten good enough at understanding hell to hear it loud and clear.

The thin mist, the red that coated the dirt…

Blood, the particles thin enough to float like fog.

I tried not to think about the dampness of my ankles.

In fact, I didn’t say another word to Hunter. He was right—there were things I didn’t want to know, facts I just didn’t want to have. I would have happily gone to sleep every night for the rest of my life without knowing that fields of blood fog existed, that they were watered by the death of things that ventured into the yards patrolled by monsters.

Hunter didn’t try to coax me into conversation after that. We traveled the path, and he said we only had a day’s walk before we reached Styx.

The odd thing was that despite how much we’d traveled, I wasn’t as sore as I’d have figured. It wasn’t like I was overly athletic before, since my exercise usually went as far as paying for a monthly gym membership and swearing weekly I’d go.

Grant walked just ahead of me, fiddling with something in his hands.

Hunter had taken off again, always quick to check the space ahead of us, while Troy hunched forward, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, as surly as ever, taking up the rear with Kase.

I jogged up the few feet to stay beside Grant. “Why aren’t I more tired?”

He didn’t lift his gaze, focused instead on what appeared to be a necklace made of string. “Because Kase probably isn’t that good in bed.”

His words took a moment for me to understand, and when they did, my cheeks burned. Apparently, I hadn’t been all that quiet…

Grant’s lips pulled into a smirk, telling me he enjoyed rattling me far too much.

“You aren’t as funny as you think you are.”

“Of course I am,” he said without a speck of uncertainty. “You aren’t tired after the walking because you aren’t in the living realm. You don’t expend energy the same way here you would back home, especially because you’re mortal.”

“That makes no sense.”

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