Passion Ignited (17 page)

It was even worse than it had been
outside.

Her steps faltered as she took in the
horrendous scene before her. They’d entered what looked to be a
torture chamber. Skeletons with glowing red eyes whipped creatures
that were dangling by chains. They laughed as their victims
screamed and cried. Minotaurs tied their victims’ limbs to chains,
pulling them with a lever. Yet more screams rent the air as their
bodies stretched in ways that weren’t normal. Tables were
strategically placed around the room, bloody tools and weapons
lining their surfaces. The sight and sounds made her stomach
lurch.

“Would you care for a massage?” the ominous
stranger asked. He was now a few feet in front of her, having
turned when he realized that she’d stopped following.

Nitro’s eyes focused further up ahead. She’d
never seen beasts such as these. They looked like skeletal horses
with eight legs. They currently happened to be trampling another
demon to death. “No.”

“Then I suggest you keep up.” He turned again,
striding through the middle of the torture chamber as if he owned
the place. He likely did. Each of the demons that were meting out
punishment stopped and bowed their heads as he passed. Nitro only
met the eyes of a few—that had been more than enough. She picked up
her pace as they exited the room, and the sounds of torment
reverberated once again.

She continued to follow him as he walked
through a large corridor. On each side of the hallway stood a line
of armored guards. She had assumed they were fake, but as she
passed them, she met the cold, desperate stares of more than one of
them. She continued on, following their master under an archway
that led into an enormous room. She stopped following once his feet
ceased to move.

Nitro glanced around the spacious room
quickly. More of those sickly-looking dogs were lying in front of
the oversized fireplace, gnawing on the carcass of some dead
animal—or maybe a person. She knew now what they were. Hellhounds.
She’d only ever heard they were a rumor. As if she’d spoken to
them, they looked up at her, their ears pricking upward. They
looked at the man next to her momentarily and then set back to
eating.

“You’re an interesting one,” he said, turning
toward her.

She looked at him then, his voice capturing
her attention. It was the first time she’d allowed herself to study
him. He had long black hair that was cut just above his shoulders,
and he was tan and cleanly shaven other than the goatee that framed
his mouth. His golden yellow eyes pierced her as if he could see
her very soul—if she even had one left—and reveled in the fear and
anxiousness that ran rampant through her.

“Human and demon. Alive and dead,” he
continued. “And so much more. Interesting.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Nitro caught
sight of one of the dragon-like creatures peeking around the
archway. Its ears were pulled back as it stretched its neck out,
raising its nose into the air. As soon as it caught her looking, it
jumped back from the door, hiding from her view. She spared it only
a second’s glance before she focused on the man before her. “You’re
wrong.” She shook her head. “I haven’t been human for a long
time.”

“I’m never wrong.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. You’re wrong
about me being alive. I’m dead, and I’m in hell.”

A teasing smirk spread across his face.
“Perceptive, are we?”

“Guess so. Listen, who the hell are you?” She
folded her arms and spread her legs shoulder width
apart.

“Haven’t figured that one out on your own?
You’re in hell, remember?”

“But I don’t know
which
hell.”

He seemed to think about that for a moment,
and decided to not toy with her in this case. “You’re in the
Underworld.”

Her face fell. Any cockiness she’d started to
muster diminished. Her pulse quickened and she felt her breath
catch in her throat. She was in the Underworld, which meant that
she was staring at none other than…

“Hades,” she whispered.

“Clever girl.” He smiled. “You interest me.
It’s been far too long since I’ve sensed kin come through here.” He
was pacing in front of her now, though his eyes never left her
face. “I felt it as soon as you entered my realm. There’s something
special about you, surprisingly enough. And I’m never surprised.”
He stood just before her, his eyes burrowing into hers as their
gazes locked. Heat rushed through her, and it took a minute before
she realized that his hands were on each side of her face. His eyes
never left hers as he slowly got closer and closer, his eyes
morphing from yellow to black and red, swirling with anger and
compassion at the same time—two completely different ends of the
spectrum—which made absolutely no sense. A hint of anticipation
crossed his features as he focused intently on her. A devilish grin
spread over his face as she tried to escape his grasp, but his hold
on her was too strong.

“Ahh, there you are,” he said.

Nitro’s eyes stayed locked on Hades. She
stopped struggling as an iridescent figure leapt up between
them.

He laughed loudly as the figure turned toward
her, its sadistic smile sending a wave of panic to course through
her. It jumped forward and entered her body, sending her crashing
to the floor.

Chapter
Seventeen

“That’s it. We’re getting you out there,”
Eugene said. “Kyle, go to bed, you’ve been up all day. Bob, it’s
time you learned the ropes if you want to survive.”

Bob twitched his lips into a semblance of a
smile. Honestly, he felt like his body was dying. He was drained of
energy, and no matter how much he ate, the hunger didn’t seem to
subside. And gods, the dreams. No, not dreams. They were
nightmares. He didn’t remember what the last thing was before he’d
lost his memory, but he was sure it was something pretty messed up
to cause the bloody, gory dreams he’d had lately.

Eugene made sure his grandson was tucked in
safely before he headed out. The small homeless community they’d
built was a strong one. Everyone shared their food and goods, and
watched out for each other. Quite often, parents had to leave their
little ones behind in order to gather what they needed to survive.
Although none of them had trusted him enough to let him watch their
kids for them. Eugene and Kyle seemed to be the only ones who
trusted him even remotely.

The old man led him through the maze of boxes
and shelters that made up their community, and then continued on
toward Broad Street. He followed quietly, taking in the street and
the shops that littered it. He hadn’t left their alley since the
night Kyle and Eugene had brought him here, and he didn’t want to
forget his way home. The two men walked down the sidewalk, unable
to evade attention. Everyone who saw him seemed to stare, just as
they had the other night.

“Saturday night,” Eugene laughed. “Don’t
worry, you’re not the scariest thing out tonight.” He kept walking
down the sidewalk, bobbing and weaving through pedestrians that
littered the sidewalk. Broad Street Café seemed to be their
destination, and Bob kept right behind him. They passed a small
business accessway that appeared to wrap around the café—likely
where trucks dropped off their shipments.

Eugene sat down on the sidewalk and leaned his
back against the red brick wall. “Why don’t you pop a
squat?”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the old man’s
ease. It couldn’t be easy to live out here on the street, but it
didn’t seem to faze him. He sat down on the cold sidewalk next to
him and mimicked his pose by leaning against the building. The
old-timer pulled his baseball cap off his head and placed it on the
sidewalk, upside down to collect money.

“It’ll feel degrading at first, but it
passes,” Eugene said. “Soon you’ll come to realize that it’s our
only way of survival.” Not only did he leave his hat on the
sidewalk, but he also sat Indian-style and kept his palm
outreached. “Just like this, son.”

Bob copied him yet again, sans hat. He was
really beginning to respect the guy. Here he was, taking care of a
complete stranger as if he were family.

“That’s it. Now, whenever someone passes that
looks like they might have a dime to spare, all you need to do is
ask. Because what’s the worst that could happen?”

He shrugged as he watched people walk by.
“Mugged, shot, beaten, embarrassed, maybe a public
flogging.”

Eugene stared at him, blinking in surprise.
The next second he slapped his hand against his knee and guffawed.
“I knew I liked you. But really, how would any of that hurt us? A
mugger wouldn’t get anything, I’ve been shot, you’ve been beaten,
this is embarrassing enough for the both of us, and public
floggings haven’t happened since before I was born.”

Bob smiled at the old man as he caught his
composure. He waited until Eugene was back to his normal self
before throwing a fast one at him. It was something he’d wanted to
know ever since he first saw their living conditions. “What
happened? Why are you homeless?”

Eugene’s palm dropped, clearly not expecting
the question that had been barreled at him. “You talk to Kyle about
this at all?”

“Not really. The only thing he’s mentioned
about your past is a few of his good times in school, and how you
used to be in the military.”

“Yep. I served my country since I was sixteen
years old.”

“So how did you end up like this?”

“It isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. They
promise you this and that, but in reality you don’t get squat.
Everything was fine up until about two and a half years
ago.”

“What happened then?”

“Kyle’s parents—my son Clint and his wife
Anne—were killed in a car accident.”

His eyebrows shot up. He thought that Kyle’s
parents were possibly dead, but just thinking it and having it be
real were two very different things.

“I went and stayed with Kyle so his parents
could go to Manhattan for their anniversary. Anne loved shopping
there and Clint could never deny his wife anything. Anyway, they
were driving down I-280 when it all happened. A truck hauling
construction pipes didn’t have his load tied down all the way, and
he lost it. Cars couldn’t get stopped fast enough, so a lot of
people got injured. Of course, they were the lucky ones, the
survivors. Clint and Anne’s car crashed straight into one of those
pipes, and it flipped their car end over end. The police say they
died on impact. I can only hope that’s true.”

Bob sat there, staring blankly at the
sidewalk, envisioning the chaos and pain that had to have happened
that day. A flash of memory went through him. He saw a helicopter’s
view of a thirteen-car pileup and large pipes strewn across the
freeway. As quickly as it came, the memory disappeared. “I’m
sorry,” he said.

“I’ve come to terms with what happened to my
son. The only thing I can do now is try to help my grandson
survive.”

“How did Kyle even get through
that?”

“He didn’t handle it so well, but no one
expected him to. He started failing in school, so I got him into
counseling. When he stopped going to counseling, I got him into one
of those Big Brother programs. When he refused to show up for
activities, I gave up forcing him to do anything. My time was spent
working with lawyers in a lawsuit against the trucking company that
caused the accident. We won the case, but the lawyer ended up with
most of the money, and the money we received ended up going toward
paying on Clint and Anne’s house.”

Bob’s eyebrows narrowed. “So if you paid on
the house, how come you live out here?”

“Let’s just say that when I paid the mortgage
company and got caught up on the house payments, they neglected to
tell me that the house was already scheduled for
auction.”

“They can’t do that.”

“Oh believe me, I tried to fight it. It took
every last dime I had to fight it. We lost that one.”

He sat on the cold cement sidewalk with his
jaw clenched. How could someone who worked so hard all his life end
up being chewed up and spit out? Of course there was something that
could be done. Someone needed to fight the system. They deserved
their house. They deserved their money. And Kyle shouldn’t be an
orphan.

Eugene took the silence as a sign that the
conversation was over, or maybe he just wanted it to be. He reached
out with his palm turned up, and when a group of girls walked by,
he said the saddest words Bob had ever heard. “Can you spare any
change?”

****

Ferox was still MIA when Draven returned to
the main floor. The other Guardians—minus a few—were hanging around
the bar in the library, trying to pretend they hadn’t been waiting
for him. Ally held on tightly to his hand as they made their way
through the foyer, on their way to where the peanut gallery was.
After Raider had filled him in on the details, he’d phoned Ally and
had her come right away.

“Alright,” Draven said. “Here’s what we know.
These new demons are like us. They can’t be out in the sun, they
have fangs, and they like to drink blood. Raider battled against
one last night, and when he probed his mind, it was clouded, like a
rabid animal’s mind would be. Its only thoughts were killing and
drinking.”