Caged by Damnation (20 page)

I watched my foe swing his club around, revealing a sword at the opposite end. Behind me, the army chanted, while others sounded the drums of war. The blade arched towards me and I darted sideways. I had seen the look in Liam's eyes, and I wasn't ready to let them win. I would go down fighting the way Maye had taught me. A battle was only won if a party gave up.

Bellowing, I raced to the giant. Grabbing onto the massive fist coming my way, I used it as leverage to climb onto the demonic giant's back. Wrapping my weapon around its throat to use as reins, I braced myself. Desperately, he tried to assert dominance by kicking, jumping and trying to pull me off. I was determined to break him.

In a last-ditch attempt, he fell onto his side, squashing my leg beneath him. He began to roll onto his back, but I jerked the axe, sliding it across his jugular and ending his efforts. His head fell forward with a lazy thud.

Relieved, I stood, momentarily forgetting that I was still standing in a battle zone. I smiled at Griffin and watched his eyes widen just before pain pierced my back and spread to my front. I looked down to see a blade protruding from my chest. 

Twin thoughts clouded my mind: if we survived this, Griffin and I would have matching scars, and secondly: it made me wonder about my battle with Asmodeus. Had I not chosen to live, my injury would have been remarkably similar to the one I now sported. Now, the choice was taken from me.

My vision darkened, bringing forth an internal Armageddon, and I fell to my battlefield grave. I wondered if anyone would live to bury me?

Crazed loneliness swept through me, settling inside my skin like a cool mist that I’d absorbed whole. It was
infuriating the way my body embraced it, welcoming it as an old friend rather than recognizing it for the enemy it was.

The elixir of death had taken hold of me, making of me an empty shell to contain the spores of darkness, a bottomless pit cast from iron emotion. Thankfully, the world couldn't witness my surrender.

I struggled to move against the depths of my despair. I was paralyzed, left only with the ability to inhale and exhale. This was the embodiment of torture: to be unable to respond to my needs and the useless fluttering of my heart without the physical reaction it demanded.

Finally, I drew forth a whimper, the barest hint that cold hadn't replaced my heart, though it lasted for barely a few seconds before it too collapsed under the pressure. Repelled from all sides, I was being crushed from the inside out. More ground was taken by the darkness until all that lay between myself and total damnation was my box.

A forgotten corner of my mind was the resting place of the cube that had protected me all those years ago. It was sandwiched between the childhood sacrifices I’d witnessed and Asmodeus's death, garnering esteem from cobwebbed thoughts and spider-ridden memories.

I retreated from the evil dispersing itself within my mind until my flesh pressed into the cage behind me. Its bars felt like sandpaper moving across my shoulder blades. This place was forbidden lest I accidentally entomb myself and lose the key to my release. The more I shrank into the familiar safety it offered, the more it became a weapon against me. My own creation could easily transform from guardian to prison. 

It had been a long time since I had retreated from my fickle friend. I’d promised myself I’d never return. The darkness was approaching and the threat the cage posed was miniscule compared to what lay in the rest of my mind. So there I hid, hoping my ancient cage would protect me once more.

CHAPTER 13

WILLOW

It was difficult to keep up with Poison Ivy. She set a breakneck pace and I wasn't used to running on four legs. Eventually, she stopped, standing on a cliff above the water. Was she planning to push me off into an icy grave?

Why are we here?

She moved forth until she was at the edge.
Being a Hellhound is harder than you know. You see death and are a part of him. You have to be cold and ruthless because emotion can cloud your judgment and get you killed. It can also kill those you love.
I waited, holding my breath.
The deaths will hurt you in ways you couldn't imagine. They may be the worst sort of souls, but consuming them is ... going to claw at your insides until you can't breathe. We all feel it, but don't talk about it. It's like voicing it would make the pain that much worse. I just wanted you to know, to prepare yourself for the worst and spare you the surprise.

When she looked back at me, her eyes were flooded with tears. My paws slipped on the rock, but I made it to her.
You can talk to me.

She displayed her teeth in the Hellhound version of a smile and looked away.
No, I didn't bring you here for me. When it gets really bad this is the place where it evaporates.
Gazing back at me, she spoke solemnly.
I wanted you to see it. Maybe it will help bring you some peace. It may help you face the demons, as it has for me. You're going to need it now.

After showing me her sanctuary, we walked in silence. Her tail had lost its perkiness and hung low. It worried me, but I didn't think she wanted my sympathy. Instead, I gave her space and pondered her complex personality. We reached the Hellhound lair, changed, and discovered everyone waiting in the common room.

"Why the sourpuss faces? Did someone die?" I meant the questions to be lighthearted but they all looked to me with grave expressions. Even Death had taken on a pitiful look, and it was directed at me. 

Vixen stood, walked to me, and gave me a knowing look. "There was an attack and your friends were caught in it. I don't know if anyone died." She grimaced at the last part of the sentence.

At first I was in shock, but then anger set in. Leaving the others in the common room, I went to my domain and grabbed some weapons. Guilt rushed through me. I had been enjoying myself, thinking that it was nice to only have to worry about myself for once. Now, it turned out that during my run, my friends had been attacked and could very well be dead.

Pain ebbed and flowed through my body. I could feel the Fury in me taking hold, and I basked in her. If she would help me find the others or avenge their deaths, I would be grateful to have her on my side. They say to watch out for the quiet ones, and whoever harmed my friends was about to find out why.

Death came up behind me. "It was demons. They were going after Savannah, but your friends were all there. A lot of innocents died, and I can't be sure if your friends were among them." His hand touched my shoulder, but I pulled away to face him.

"I wasn't there! If it wasn't for your stupid demands, I would have been with them. I could have helped. It's your fault!"

Death backed away with a somber face. "If you had been there you may have died. You wouldn't have been much good to them against an army of demons. I'm sorry about your friends, but this isn't my fault."

My stare was lethal in its intensity, which was not lost on Death. Ignoring his remarks, I turned back to stuff
various weapons into a duffle bag. If my friends were in trouble, I would need to be prepared.

"What can I do to help?"

I zipped the bag closed and looked him in the eye. "You can stay out of my way." I walked towards the exit, but the Hellhounds came in and blocked me.

"I'm going. You can't keep me here."

Echo stepped forward with crossed arms. "Oh, we're not trying to stop you. We're coming with."

Vixen grinned. "Yeah, you against an army of demons? I'm not loving those odds." Satisfaction was plastered over her face.

"You're our sister now,” Whisper chimed. “We're family, and like it or not, that means your battles are our battles."

Poison Ivy walked in, surprising me since I hadn't noticed her absence. "Besides, what's your plan? Walk around and hope you don't get yourself killed? You have no clue how to take advantage of your Hellhound nature. At least we can track your friends by their scents. You'll be safer with the pack, and better equipped to protect your friends. Even demons have the good sense to fear us." She grinned, proud of her speech. I wondered if she had been late because she was practicing it?

"Where do we start?" I asked

"Start with the Ether since that's where the battle took place. You might find them or at least be able to track them from there. Be careful and stay alert." Confused at Death's support, I nodded in agreement, but refused to speak to him. I knew it was childish, but I was still angry.

Scrye unveiled the door to the rest of the world. Terror emanated from the churning pool, bringing the taste of blood. She had already called on the scene of the battle and the scent of withering souls was wafting through, attaching to the living as if fighting for their lives.

We went through the vortex and emerged, surrounded by piles of the dead. Those still living had grouped together, the handiwork of the demons written across the faces of the survivors.

An old woman walked past us holding a historical romance novel to her chest. Obviously, she was in shock; she kept repeating, "The flame drove us out." She reminded me of someone who needed to be locked in a padded chamber to keep them from harming themselves.

Though the others were covered in soot and grime, they had purpose to their steps, as they carried the dead over to piles, sorting through the demons and humans. All happiness had been stolen from them. I had been so worried about my friends that it hadn't registered that others had fared as bad, if not worse.

Poison Ivy spoke from my left. "My God." She stared down the river of blood and loss. "This wasn't a battle, it was a massacre." The tears she shed enhanced the awe and heartbreaking sound of her voice.

We helped those we could, while searching the field for my friends. It was difficult to tell one body apart from the next, since the demons hadn't left many telltale marks on the bodies. They had pillaged and scavenged until little was left behind in the miserable heaps.

What was once the Ether or Compound had been left in ruins. I doubted anyone left inside had lived. If they had, they must have had an angel watching over them, or an army of them.

Time passed. I bandaged the wounded, helped organize groups, and walked aimlessly seeking Savannah or Izzy. The longer I went without finding them, the more desperate I became.

Vixen appeared. "Come on, I found Savannah's scent!"

She dragged me towards a far corner where there was a higher concentration of decaying demons than elsewhere. Their bodies emanated a rank odor, a disgusting assault on
the nose. It seemed that demons rotted at a faster rate than others.

"How do you know it's hers?" I spoke from behind my palm, trying to block the smell of death.

"Trust me, it's her. Besides, I smell Liam too...." She trailed off, tracing a patch of dried blood and my own ran cold. "If they were killed, we would have found bodies instead of some blood and a bunch of spent demons," she reassured me. I nodded, but couldn't help wondering if some of the survivors from the battle had already gathered their bodies for the pyres.

"Willow?"

I looked up. The voice was Ash's. His clothing was charred, and he had a jagged wound across his chest, but otherwise he seemed to be his normal self.

Banishing my normal reserved rules, I gave him a tight hug, relieved that at least one friend was still alive. I sobbed freely, not caring if some thought it a weakness.

"You're alive. What about everyone else? Did they make it?"

Ash shook his head. "I don't know. We split up just before it happened. I tried to get back to them, but the fire was in my way. I was alone, but made it out of the compound with some guards and other civilians." Grief deepened his eyes. He felt guilty about not being there to protect them. We had that in common. "I stayed behind to fight the demons, looking for them, while trying to help others escape."

"Don't worry. We'll find them. Vixen located Liam and Savannah's scent. So, we can track them." It was little hope, but all I could offer.

His brows furrowed. "What about Maye, Izzy, and Griffin? Isis, Diamante, and Josephine were here too."

My heart pounded with the news of how many had been here. When Death and the Hellhounds said my friends were attacked and possibly dead, I hadn't processed the full meaning behind their words.

Vixen spoke up. "This blood isn't Liam's or Savannah's. I recognize it though and it’s definitely male. My guess is that it's Griffin's since trace magic was left behind."

Echo and the other Hellhounds showed up. "Did you guys find anything?" I asked, hoping they had some good news about Maye or Izzy.

Downcast, they shook their heads in defeat. Whisper clutched a stuffed elephant to her chest. Her eyes were rimmed with red and I knew she had discovered something more horrid than the rest of us.

"May I...?" Scrye motioned to Ash's injury.

After gaining his consent, she withdrew a chain from around her neck and emptied some powder from the pouch onto her palm. She then spread it across the inflamed flesh. Immediately, the skin merged together as if he had never been injured.

"Thanks." He seemed to give little thought to the disappearing wound, and walked over to Vixen, bending to get a better view of the blood Griffin had left behind.

"I'm sure he's fine." My words fell on deaf ears.

Shyly, Vixen offered. "We can track them easier in our other forms."

Echo pointed to Vixen and Poison Ivy, assigning them the duty of trackers. "Make sure you have a fix on the scent and stay alert. We might run into some stragglers. The rest of us will follow."