Page 11 of Infernium

At a strange humming sound, I look back and find the woman twitching in place. Nausea claims the strength of my legs, and I stumble to the side, my shoulder hitting the wall. The woman rushes toward me with bared teeth and the kind of thrill in her eyes that sends a shudder to the center of my bones. She drops to her knees.

I watch in horror as she drags her hand over the blood and licks it from her palm.

Finally, screams rip from my chest.

Something bands around my midsection, pressing into the ache of my belly. I claw at whatever it is, frantic to get away, but it’s strong. Too strong.

Beyond the woman, the little boy I followed stands watching, then covers his face in his little palms.

Save him.

The woman’s jaw widens until unhinged to a terrifying gape, as she twists around toward the boy.

“Leave him alone! Leave my baby alone!” The band tightens at the same time that my hands shoot out to reach for him.

In my scratching and wriggling to break free of what’s holding me, I look down to see that what I thought were arms dragging me away is a long, black tentacle-like appendage curling itself around my waist.

Every muscle in my body tenses.

Following the length of the tentacle, I turn to see red fiery eyes staring back at me. Eyes I’ve seen before. Ones that send a shudder of fear through every cell of my body.

Horns protrude from his head and curl backward, their surface covered in the same silvery tattoos that match those on his skin.

He opens his mouth to show two long fangs, their tips dripping blackness. Without warning, he snaps toward me.

* * *

I awoke on a gasp to darkness, caged in arms too strong to escape.My baby. My baby!Kicking and squirming, I fought to break loose, but my captor only tightened his grip.

“Farryn, settle down.” Though his voice was familiar and calming, I refused to settle. I needed to see the blood.The blood!

“Shhhh,” he whispered, “It’s only a dream.”

“Let me go! I need to see! I need to see the blood!”

Without protest, he released me, and I shot upright. Throwing the sheets away from me, I stared down at my naked legs where not a speck of blood could be seen. I shifted on the bed, lifting up from the mattress. No blood. Nothing but crisp white sheets.

Confused, I scanned the room, but it stood only dark and quiet. A curtain fluttered at a cracked window, allowing the late winter air to breeze through.Aunt Nelle’s. I’m at Aunt Nelle’s. The old bedroom I took as my own.

A glance at the clock on the nightstand showed it was one thirty-seven in the morning. As lucidity crept over me, I recalled three nights before.

Jericho. He’d come back.

Back from Ex Nihilo.

The heady scent of sex clung to the air, the bedsheets crumpled and in disarray. I turned to find Jericho staring back at me, a look of concern on his face. Only, instead of the red glowing eyes from my dream, his was the bright blue I recognized.He’s here. I’m safe.

Nausea gurgled in my stomach and tickled my chest, a sensation I’d grown all too familiar with. Scrambling out of bed, I slapped a hand over my mouth and darted down the hallway toward the bathroom, not caring that I didn’t wear a stitch of clothing. Once inside, I slammed the door behind me and fell to my knees before the toilet just as acid shot up my throat, and I leaned forward, spewing black, viscous vomit into the bowl. Another heave sent more liquid pouring out of my mouth, splashing up into my face as it hit the water. I spat out the stringy material, and staring down at the dark-tinged fluids that gathered in a strange, swirled pattern in the water, the unease I’d felt before climbed the back of my neck. I’d read a number of pregnancy books that spoke of morning sickness, but had yet to come across any references toblackvomit.

An all-too-familiar smoky flavor, like a burnt steak, filled my mouth and curled my stomach. The first time I’d vomited, I’d sworn I was about to die of some kind of internal bleeding. I hadn’t bothered to go to the ER, because, well, what could I have said? I was impregnated with a half demon, half angel child, and vomiting black might’ve been perfectly normal.

A hard knock at the door startled me, and on reflex, I flushed the toilet.

“Is everything okay?” Jericho asked through the door.

“Yeah. Just a little morning sickness is all! I’ll be right out!” Still weak with queasiness, I pushed up from the toilet and, with trembling hands, turned on the faucet to wash the grotesque mist of toilet water vomit from my face.

In the mirror’s reflection, I caught sight of something on my side. Twisting toward the mirror showed a dark bruise there. An ache I hadn’t paid attention to up until that moment, and it prompted me to turn to view the other side, where dark successive lines marked the rough grip of fingers. My thoughts drifted to the night before, when Jericho had gotten a little rough during sex. I vaguely recalled feral sounds and grunting, along with his bruising grip across my hips. More twisting showed bruises across my ass and the back of my thighs.

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