chapter 19
Kansas was… flat and grassy.
As far as the eye could see, was nothing more than flat fields with yellowish grass and tall reeds. In the distance, the horizon seemed to meet the land, a dark and ominous blue-gray as night neared, bleeding onto the brownish tall grass and white wildflowers.
“Prairie land”, according to Aiden’s impromptu history lesson, but what I picked up was that we were driving straight into Tornado Alley. All things considering, probably not the best place to be, especially when I got an eyeful of some of the most recent destruction caused by the bipolar gods.
Entire towns leveled. Debris-strewn fields and streets. The aftermath of so many lives uprooted, and knowing that it had something to do with me—the response to my initial inability to fight Seth’s influence.
It was hard to look past that, but I knew I couldn’t drown in the guilt right now or analyze the dream I’d just had like I was rocking a mad case of OCD. I needed my A-game. We were too close to Stull Cemetery.
Nervous energy hummed through both of us. Even with Apollo’s insight on the gates and the Underworld, neither of us really knew what we were going to face.
About ten miles west of Lawrence, we came upon the small, unincorporated town of Stull. I sat up straighter, eyes glued to the window.
At dusk, the main street, which appeared to be the only street, was completely abandoned. None of the businesses were open. People didn’t stroll down the sidewalks. There was nothing. Man, we were definitely in rural Kansas.
“So creepy,” I whispered.
“What?”
“There’s not a single soul on the street.” I shivered in full heebie-jeebies mode.
“Maybe they’re all in the cemetery.” When I shot him a dirty look, he laughed. “Alex, we’re about to go to the Underworld. A seemingly empty town can’t scare you that much.”
We came to a three-way stop and Aiden hung a right. “You know, Luke was saying that there’s only like twenty people who live here and that it’s believed they aren’t from Earth,” I said, glancing at Aiden. “Do you think they’re gods?”
“Could be. Maybe Stull is their summer home.”
I took another look at the squat, ancient-looking houses. “Pretty odd vacation spot, but hey, the gods are weird.”
“That they are.” Aiden leaned toward the steering wheel, eyes squinting. “There it is.”
Following his gaze, I sucked in a soft gasp. A dozen or so feet down the road, up on the right hand side, was Stull Cemetery. Not a gateway to hell, but one to the Underworld.
And in the fading sun and gathering darkness, it was creepy as hell.
“I hope no one tries to kick us out,” I murmured as Aiden coaxed the Hummer through the narrow entrance in the chain link fence. We were planning to leave the Hummer inside the cemetery. It wouldn’t be there very long; time in the Underworld moved differently. Hours there were half-seconds here. Days would be minutes. Weeks would be hours.
“For some reason, I don’t think we’ll have a problem.” Aiden pulled the vehicle to the side and killed the engine. Off went the lights.
Staring at the tombstones, I shuddered.
“Are you going to get out?” Aiden already had his door open.
A tumbleweed rolled down a walkway that had seen better days and my eyes widened as I followed it until it came to a rest against the fence. “Do I have to?”
Aiden chuckled as he closed the door, disappearing around the back of the Hummer. Not wanting to reenact a scene from Night of the Living Dead, I hopped out and quickly followed him. I found him sliding his arms through the straps of the heavy backpack.
By the time he closed the Hummer and hit the security system—who in the hell was going to steal the car here?—the cemetery had been plunged into dark shadows. Thick, dark-as-oil clouds blocked the moon, but my eyes adjusted quickly and I almost wished they hadn’t.
Thrusting out of the swaying weeds and overgrown prairie grass were fewer than a hundred gravestones. Scattered among the newer tombstones were ancient ones whose inscriptions had faded long ago. Some were square; others reminded me of mini-Washington Monuments, and a few were old crosses that tipped heavily to one side or another.
At the very cusp of the cemetery was a crumbled stone foundation edged by a few trees. Two mounds of sandy brick marked where the church had once stood, before the gods had burned it down due to Hades’ untimely midnight showing.
The pathway was nothing more than a dirt track about a foot wide, and I was almost a hundred percent positive I was strolling on unmarked graves.
“Gods, I hate cemeteries.”
Aiden placed a hand on my back. “Dead people can’t hurt you.”
“Unless they’re zombies.”
“I doubt there are any zombies around here.”
I huffed, hitting the button on the sickle blade. It extended, one end forming a sharp point, the other a nasty, reaper-looking scythe. “One can never be too safe.”
Aiden shook his head, but kept on trekking up the narrow path. Eventually the walkway faded, overgrown by brush weeds and itchy grass that clung to my cargos. A prickly feeling skated across my neck and down my spine as we neared the foundation of the church. I wanted to look behind me, but I seriously expected to find a horde of brain-eating zombies standing there.
I edged around one lonely-looking tombstone and stepped beside Aiden. We were no more than a foot away from the crushed stone.
Aiden straightened the straps on the bag as he cocked his head to the side. “So, you see anything—?”
Suddenly, the wind stopped. Like, completely.
An unnatural stillness permeated the air, raising the tiny hairs at the nape of my neck. Under the black thermal, tiny bumps stole across my flesh. A stale, musky scent seeped in from nowhere. I let out a ragged breath and a small, frothy white cloud formed.
“Okay,” I whispered, tightening my hold on the blade. “Not normal.”
Aiden’s breath lingered in the air, too. Holding a hand between us, he nodded toward the thick stand of trees crowding the remains of the church. Two darker shadows stood a few feet in, almost indistinguishable among the foliage.
My muscles tensed. Guards? Ghosts? I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Showtime,” Aiden said, silently slipping off the backpack. He placed it near a rickety stone cross.
I nodded. “Yeppers peppers.”
The two figures drifted forward. They were hooded and shapeless, and I realized that their feet—if they had feet, which was up in the air—didn’t touch the ground. Their dark-red robes trailed an inch above the grass.
Slowly, their arms rose and the material slipped back. A weird creaking noise followed the motion. Slender, pale-white fingers reached for the hoods, drawing them back.
Oh… oh, wow.
Under the hoods were nothing but bones. Pale white bones and empty, vast blackness where eye sockets and nostrils would’ve been. The mouths… the jaws hinged on loose joints, so the mouths gaped open. There was no skin, no meat or hair. They were skeletons—floating, freaking skeletons.
Not as frightening or dangerous as zombies, but still, they were creepy.
I stared at them, wanting to look away but unable. It was eerie… their eyes. They were just holes, but the longer I stared at them, something… something moved deep inside them, teeny, tiny dots of flickering light.
My fingers loosened around the sickle blade. “I could just… blast them with akasha.”
“Your idea has been noted and discarded.”
“Oh, come on.”
“Using akasha tires you out, right?” he said evenly, keeping his eyes on the things. “Why not use it for something other than a bag of bones?”
“Oh. Good point.”
Those “bags of bones” reached into their robes at the same moment.
I arched a brow. “I hope they don’t flash us. Really don’t want to see a skeleton pe—”
And then they withdrew two thick and shiny handles. Wondering if they were going to chuck the handles at us, I admitted I was quite disappointed by the guards. No wonder mortals had discovered the gateway when all that stood between them and the portal were two walking Halloween decorations.
“Alex,” Aiden murmured.
My chin jerked up, just as sparks flew from the handles, bright and intense in the darkness. Fire spread rapidly, fiery red and powerful, each forming a shape of a long, deadly blade.
“What the…?” My eyes widened.
They flew at us, bones rattling and knocking in a gruesome chorus. Aiden ducked under the first burning blade. Pivoting around cleanly, he planted a foot in the back of one skeleton.
The other lurched toward me, swiping the blade so close to my neck that I felt the heat. Darting to the side, I swung the sickle in a wide arc. The deadly sharp blade sliced through the robe and bone.
In a flash of light, the sword fizzled out and the bones collapsed into a smoldering heap. Taking a step back, I caught the sight of the same thing happening with Aiden’s opponent. The fire-sword disappeared, and then nothing remained but bone and wisps of smoke.
I waited for them to get back up and do something, maybe even an entertaining jig, but nothing. Lowering the sickle, I frowned. “That was way, way too easy.”
Aiden stalked toward me, his eyes darting over the landscape. “You’re telling me. Stay close, because I have a feeling they were just meant to distract us.”
A low growl rippled through the silent cemetery, and my stomach dropped all the way to my toes. Together, Aiden and I turned. I don’t know who reacted first. Whether it was Aiden’s explosive curse or my groan, it didn’t matter.
Crouched in the ruined remains of the church was one big, mean, ticked-off-looking hellhound.
Stone crumbled under meaty paws the size of Aiden’s hands. Claws, as sharp as the blades we held, gleamed like onyx. The body was huge, about the size of one of those energy-efficient deathtrap cars, but the heads—those were three of the biggest, ugliest things I’d ever seen. It was like taking a mutant sewer rat and mixing it with a pit bull. And the teeth… they belonged in a shark’s mouth—white, wet and very, very sharp. Drool foamed under pink gums and dripped onto the ground, where the soil burned as if splashed with acid.
Six ghoulish yellow eyes settled on us.
“Damn,” I muttered, falling into a crouch. “Don’t cut the heads off. It’s the hearts that we need to hit.”
“Got it.” Aiden flipped the dagger in his hand, like a total badass.
“Show-off.”
Aiden smirked. “Wonder what this one is called?”
The hellhound’s ears twitched as the massive body lowered, preparing for attack. I slid my hand to the middle of the blade, feeling my heart pound and the adrenaline kick my system into overdrive. In the pit of my stomach, the cord started to unravel.
I swallowed. “Let’s call this one… Toto.”
Three mouths opened in a growl that sent a cold chill down my spine, and a wave of hot, fetid breath smacked into us. Bile burned the back of my throat.
“I guess it doesn’t like the name,” I said, moving slowly to the right.
Aiden’s powerful body tensed. “Here, Toto…’’ One head snapped in his direction. “That’s a good Toto.”
I slipped around the ancient cross, creeping up on the hellhound from the right. The middle and left head focused on me, snapping and growling.
Aiden clucked his tongue. “Come on, Toto, I’m pretty tasty.”
I almost laughed, but the damn thing lurched from the pile of rubble, landing between us. The ground shook from the impact. Behind us, a few tombstones shuddered loose and toppled over. For a brief moment, it looked like Toto was coming straight for me, but at the last second, it lunged at Aiden.
Caught off-guard, Aiden stumbled back a step, his foot snagging on a fragment of stone. My heart leapt into my throat as I spun toward them, throwing out my free hand. There was a spark, a strong scent of burnt ozone, and then a ball of fire shot forward, more violet then red, unnatural and consuming. It smacked into the belly of the hellhound.
Toto reared back, shaking his three heads, about as affected if a bee had stung its paw.
Well, apparently the fire element didn’t hurt it. Good to know.
Then Toto powered off the ground, launching into the air. There was only a second, if that, before it came crashing down on me. I hit the ground, inwardly cringing because I was sure I was atop a grave, and rolled, shoving the pointed end of the sickle up.
I hit the gut, missing the heart by a mile.
“Dammit.” Pulling the blade free, I scrambled back. Toto’s claws dug into the earth between my spread legs, twisting around so fast it left my head spinning. I jerked back, but the hellhound was huge. Rotten breath blew my hair back. Acid drool dripped, splattering off my shoulder. Clothing burned, and red-hot pain seared my skin. Panic was an icy wind in my veins.
Aiden’s hoarse shout of my name was warning enough.
Screw this.
Tapping into the cord, I felt it come alive, sparking into a low, steady hum that rushed through me. Marks of the Apollyon bled through my skin, churning into glyphs. Something flared in the hellhound’s eyes, as if it could see the marks and understood them for what they were.
Toto snarled. All three heads snapped down on me with the precision and deadliness of a king cobra. Thrusting my hand up, my fingers dug into the matted, coarse hair. Supreme power rushed down my arm. Blue light crackled.
Without any warning, Toto’s heads whipped back in a yelp. The big body tensed, and then shuddered. It flopped to the side, legs twitching. The sharp end of the sickle jutted out from its chest, coated in slick darkness. A moment later, Toto was nothing more than a pile of shimmery, blue dust.
Stunned, I looked up as akasha settled back into the cord, unused.
Aiden stood above me, legs widespread and shoulders back, dark hair falling in messy disarray, eyes the color of steel and just as hard. Power—natural, trained power that came from years of dedication—radiated from him. He was a tall, looming force to be reckoned with, and here I was, the Apollyon, laid flat out on my rear while he stood.
He was a warrior, and I was awed.
Aiden extended his arm. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I croaked, placing my hand in his. He carefully hauled me to my feet. “Thank you.”
“Don’t—”
Clasping the sides of his face, I kissed him. Long. Deep. Hard. When I pulled back, his eyes were pools of silver. “Just say you’re welcome. It isn’t hard. Say it.”
For the longest moment, Aiden said nothing and then, “You’re welcome.”
My lips split into a wide smile. “That wasn’t hard, was it?”
Aiden’s gaze drifted over my face and then lower. He sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing.” I dodged the hand that reached for my shoulder. The burn had already dulled. “I’m fine. It’s just doggy slobber. Don’t come too close; I smell like wet hellhound. I’m really—”
“Lexie.”
The name—the sound of the voice—wasn’t Aiden’s, but I recognized it in my heart and soul. It couldn’t be, but it was. My breath stalled in my lungs. My legs felt suddenly weak as I turned from a shell-shocked Aiden. My heart—my heart already knew the source of that wonderful, soft, and beautiful voice.
I stumbled back a step, suddenly swamped in emotion that tightened my chest and stole my breath. Confusion followed as I shook my head in a daze. Tears sprung to my eyes. My chest cracked wide open, because this couldn’t be real.
“Mom?”