Wraith King 2 Read online

  “A blood pact?” I asked. Behind me, the creature groaned.

  Ilana reached out and put a hand on my arm. “Yes, you have saved this animal’s life, and it seems that for whatever reason, it understands that it is duty-bound to protect you.”

  I looked back at the suffering animal, hating that we were standing here while it bled from its wounds and whimpered. Kneeling, I looked into the animal’s red eyes. “Is that true?” I asked. “Is that why you’re here? To protect me?”

  Slowly, the animal moved its head as if nodding.

  “Incredible,” Ilana whispered.

  “None of my elves will touch this creature,” Nya said. “You are to care for it, feed it, and tend its wounds. If it attacks, you are to kill it. And if it kills, those deaths will be on your head, Jon.”

  With those words, Nya stormed off, and the other elves followed, leaving us alone with the wounded Hellhound.

  “They won’t wait for us,” Ilana said. “We’ll be better off to just kill it. And it will be more merciful.”

  “I can’t do that,” I said. “It’s too late for that.”

  Ilana smiled. “I thought you might say that. So how should we do this? How are we going to get these arrows out of it?” She removed her cloak and made to wrap it around the Hellhound’s face. But the monster snarled and snapped at the succubus, and she retreated quickly from the sharp fangs.

  “Last time, I just removed them,” I said, moving to examine the animal’s wounds.

  The arrow near the hound’s spine was the least problematic. It had missed bone and grabbed a chunk of skin and fur on top and almost gone clean through. Keeping an eye on the hound’s fangs, I grabbed the arrow and pulled it out. The beast whimpered but didn’t move.

  Next, I looked at the arrow in its shoulder, which was embedded deeply in the muscle but hadn’t penetrated the bone. The Hellhound’s skeleton must have been like armor plating to have stopped that arrow.

  “This is going to hurt like a motherfucker,” I told it.

  4

  Grabbing the shaft with both hands, I gathered all my strength, took a deep breath, and pulled. The Hellhound yowled in pain. The arrow came free with the sickening squelch of skin and muscle, and the wound began to bleed profusely. Ilana put the corner of her cloak over it to staunch the bleeding while I moved on to the last arrow.

  This one was the worst and what would kill her if not tended. The arrowhead had gone completely through the Hellhound’s thigh. The shaft was sticking through the muscle just behind what looked like the bone, but I couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t broken her femur.

  Because from back here, I could tell the Hellhound was female.

  The arrow wasn’t going to come out the same way it had gone in, and I certainly didn’t want to cause her more trauma than she’d already endured. Part of me wondered why the elves hadn’t killed the hound. I had never known them to miss at such close range. I made a mental note to ask Nya about it later, and then went to work.

  Removing a knife from my belt, one that Nya had given me for the road, I proceeded to try to cut the shaft of the arrow above the wound. Just touching the arrow made the Hellhound yelp, furthering my suspicion that the femur was broken. There wasn’t much blood, but I had no idea if we were close to an artery or not, and I was afraid of creating more damage. “Dammit.”

  “Can I help?” Ilana said from where she was still applying pressure to the wound at the creature’s shoulder.

  “I’m just afraid of causing more damage,” I said. “Have you ever seen this done before?”

  “How did they pull that arrow out of your side during the battle?”

  “I didn’t really see it as much as felt it,” I said, trying not to shudder at the memory. “But this is in a different place on the body.”

  “But the idea is the same,” Ilana said. “You don’t have much of a choice, Jon. The horses are leaving, and we still haven’t figured out what to do with the hound once we get the arrows out of her.”

  The succubus was right, and so I sheathed my knife once again and took hold of the arrow. Ilana locked eyes with me, glanced at the quivering hound, and then nodded. With as much force as I could muster, I put pressure on the shaft where I had notched it with the knife. The shaft broke in two, causing the animal to cry. Quickly, I grabbed the arrow just below the arrowhead, and without seeing any other way, pulled it from the wound in as straight a line as I could. The Hellhound sat up and growled, but I had freed the arrow even as the beast tried to move away from me. The creature dragged its back leg, which didn’t move with the rest of its body. It was definitely broken.

  The Hellhound sank back down on the ground panting, staring at us with those red eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” I told it. Then I turned to Ilana. “There’s no way we can carry her back. We’ll have to try to set or splint the leg here. Maybe then the creature can walk with us.”

  Ilana shook her head. “I have never set bones before. Have you?”

  “No,” I said with a sigh. “I was hoping you had.”

  Shit. We now had a wounded animal, the elves were leaving us behind, and we had no way of catching up to them without leaving the Hellhound behind. And yet, leaving the hound behind would probably mean its death. There was no way it would be able to walk on such a badly damaged leg. For a moment, I hated myself for even getting off my horse and walking into the woods. If I had left well enough alone, maybe the Hellhound would have continued on its way, happy and whole.

  “What are you thinking, Jon-man?” Ilana asked softly.

  “I’m thinking that I have fucked this up.”

  I stood and slowly walked around the heaving creature. It whimpered and tried to sit up, but I put my hand on its neck to hold it still. “I’m very sorry. I wish you could speak to me right now and tell me what to do for you.”

  The Hellhound held my gaze, its eyes almost growing soft. I wondered at such expressive eyes in such a terrifying creature, but then everything in this land was strange to me still, and I really had no experience with the Wraith King’s armies except for when they were attacking.

  “It seems like no matter what I do in Hell,” I said, “I only make things worse.” Maybe that wasn’t strictly true, but at the moment, I felt helpless to fix my mistake.

  Then, something happened that was so wholly unexpected that for the first time in weeks, I questioned whether I was dreaming.

  The Hellhound began to change. First, its face softened, its snout growing shorter and receding into its head, its fangs disappearing and turning into a regular mouth. Then, the rest of the body changed, too. The shoulders were no longer exaggerated like a hyena’s but shrank down to smaller than mine, while the front legs turned into arms and the back legs turned into human legs.

  The reddish-black fur disappeared as soft, supple, but scarred skin took its place. And there, in the woods, I was no longer looking at a Hellhound, but at the stable maiden whom I had met the first night I landed in Hell. Sarina.

  5

  She was naked, and bleeding still from the wounds in her shoulder, back, and leg, which looked unusable.

  My mouth dropped open. “Holy shit.”

  “By the goddess,” Ilana said.

  Sarina smiled weakly at me through the bright red hair plastered to her face. “So,” she said hoarsely. “You have survived. I’ve often wondered.”

  The pain of speaking seemed to take up all her energy, and she paused to catch her breath. But then the fire returned to her green eyes, and she glared at me. “Close your mouth, man. It’s your fault that I am this way.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. Why was I always apologizing around her? “I didn’t realize they would shoot you if I was standing there.”

  Sarina laughed humorlessly, but the act seemed to cause her more pain, and she closed her eyes and gripped the mud beneath her hands. Ilana tore off another piece of her cloak, creating a makeshift bandage for the woman’s leg.

  “We’ve got to get h
elp,” I said. “The elves—”

  “The elves only care about themselves,” Sarina said, gasping. “I’m surprised they have taken in a human and a succubus. And yet, I have heard stories about you two even among the ranks of the Wraith King. It’s why I sought you out.” She winced in pain. “Grab that sturdy branch over there, the one that’s fallen from that tree. I’ll show you how to make a splint.”

  I got up and found the branch she was pointing to with her good arm. The stick was straight and sturdy and would’ve been a good walking stick.

  As Sarina showed us how to set her leg, all the while growing paler and weaker, she kept her eyes on me. I saw that the scars on her arms and upper chest were also on the rest of her body as well. They stood out against her pale skin, which was covered in mud. To her credit, the woman barely made a sound as we set her leg and tied the splint to it. But it was a makeshift solution at best. Even moving her was a risk although we didn’t have much of a choice. I hoped that she was wrong and that the elves would help us when we got her back to the party.

  Ilana wrapped the woman in what remained of the cloak, and we helped her stand on her good leg. As she panted with the pain, the stable maiden gritted her teeth and glared at me. “I bet you don’t even remember my name,” she said.

  “Actually, I do,” I said, smiling. Ilana shot me a glance that I tried to ignore. “It’s Sarina,” I said. “Now, let’s get you back to the horses and you can tell me what the hell you’re doing here. And why you’re a Hellhound.”

  6

  When we stepped out of the woods supporting Sarina between us, the line of elves stopped, some of them openly gaping at the limping woman who was covered in blood and mud. A small guard had remained with our horses, and one of those elves took off toward the front of the line, no doubt to report to Nya.

  “You can ride with me,” I told Sarina.

  Her chin went up defiantly. “Like a cripple?”

  “We don’t have a horse to spare. And I don’t bite.”

  “Well…” Ilana said, smirking. “Sometimes he does. But she can ride with me if necessary.”

  Sarina looked between us, her green eyes showing a spark of indecision. I was beginning to understand the way things worked in Hell, and she was possibly wondering which was more humiliating—to be forced to ride with a succubus or with a man.

  The guards’ horses tossed their heads, and the column began to move again. Sarina saw this and sighed. “What does it matter?” she muttered bitterly.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I will ride with you. Jon, correct?”

  “Yes,” I said. Ilana and I helped Sarina sit on my mare, and the pain must have been intense because she looked like she was going to pass out. Then I swung up behind her. Considering her injuries, it was too much to ask her to straddle the horse. So she sat at a ninety-degree angle in front of me with my arms around her and her injured leg propped up across my thigh. At this proximity, I was more than aware of her naked body beneath the cloak, but I was also conscious of her many wounds and the blood seeping through the fabric. “As soon as we stop to rest the horses, we’ll get you some better help.”

  Sarina winced as we rejoined the elves. A moment later, Nya came riding down the line, her face in a darker mood than I’d ever seen. She looked Sarina up and down. “So, a shifter. A rare beast indeed.”

  “Nya,” I said. “Sarina is the first person I met when I arrived in Hell. She could have killed me when I woke up in her stable, but she didn’t.”

  Sarina nodded. “And Jon could have killed me, but he didn’t. And that is why I have not torn him to shreds for what he did to my village.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised.

  But Nya seemed to grasp the situation faster than I did. “Did anyone else escape?”

  Sarina shook her head. “I came to ask for help.”

  “At the moment, we are stretched thin, as you must know,” Nya said. “But we will talk.”

  The elf urged her horse faster and left us behind.

  Piecing things together, I thought I understood. When I had left Sarina’s village, I had freed Nya and Ilana by killing their slavers. Slavers who were supposed to be allowed safe passage through the village. In order to appease the Wraith King, the villagers had hunted us, afraid of facing his army’s wrath.

  “Was it bad?” I asked Sarina.

  She nodded wearily. “Everyone is gone. The village is wiped out.”

  “When you say gone…” I began.

  “Either killed or taken as slaves. I’m not sure what happened to everyone. I was taken to the Wraith King himself.” Sarina shuddered slightly. “And… turned.”

  “Into a Hellhound?”

  She shot me a look, one of mixed loathing and bitterness. “I wish I had killed you when I had the chance.”

  I was suddenly glad she had no weapons, almost feeling the need to remove my sword and dagger from my body. But again, if Sarina had wanted to kill me, she could have already, on at least two occasions. Regardless of the weapons within easy reach, shifting into a Hellhound while sitting on my lap would almost certainly kill me if she wanted. Her fangs were deadly.

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” was all I said.

  We rode the rest of the day in mostly silence. I felt more regret at the people who had died on my behalf. The elves had chosen to fight the Wraith King, perhaps, but the villagers? They were only trying to survive.

  It had certainly put a damper on my mood, and when we stopped to rest the horses for the evening, I was happy to help Sarina slide to the ground where Ilana waited to help her.

  Nya sent three elven healers to tend to Sarina’s wounds, and although at first the woman seemed like she would resist out of pride, she eventually allowed them to lead her to sit beneath a tree.

  “Is there any way to fix this?” I asked, watching them peel the cloak off Sarina’s body. Her wounds had mostly stopped bleeding, but it looked like the next few minutes would be unpleasant.

  Ilana came to stand beside me. “The elves have magic to aid her.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know.” Ilana put her hand on my arm and then turned to tend to her horse. I soon followed, realizing that Sarina might wish for privacy.

  And I thought that with the appearance of Sarina the Hellhound, the news of her village, and the dark scowl on Nya’s face, my birthday evening wasn’t going at all as I had hoped.

  7

  We’d stopped for the night beside a waterfall deep in the mountains. I didn’t realize that a place like this could exist in Hell, and after eating a dried morsel of meat and unsaddling my horse, I found a place to view the falls. Not too far from camp but able to put some distance between myself and the elves. And Sarina. I figured she was still under my guard, but the elves were tending her, and with the way she had looked at me, she might not have wanted me nearby.

  With nothing much left to do except rest, and with the light finally dimming, I laid back with my arm behind my head, watching Ilana walk toward the water. The air here was cooler than anything I’d experienced in this strange land, and it was a welcome relief from the normally hot, dry air that blew over everything. At least the ash that normally plagued the air was almost nonexistent here.

  The waterfall was in a small glade high in the mountains, and the red sky overhead could almost be a spectacular sunset back home.

  Almost.

  The Wraith King’s hold on Hell had left its mark on everything, including the sky.

  But we hoped to change that. Or at least, I had a vague notion of doing something about it. There were no concrete plans yet. Only thoughts of rescuing those who had been taken from us. And then… what about the villagers?

  “What are you thinking about?” Nya approached me. The royal elf’s blond hair was still partially braided, but she had removed her armor, leaving nothing but leather riding pants and a loose shirt that still barely contained her sumptuous
curves. I gazed up at her from my vantage point on the ground, appreciating the view.

  She smirked and then grew serious. “I feel the same way you do, Jon. It’s our fault that village was destroyed.”

  I sighed. “Yeah. You’re going to talk to Sarina then?”

  “Yes, later when she’s had time to eat and rest. You and Ilana are welcome to join in the conversation. It involves both of you as much as it involves me.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m still holding you responsible for Sarina’s whereabouts while she’s with us, though. Hellhound shifters are rare, and I’ve never known of one that wasn’t bad through and through. But considering the circumstances…”

  “The blood pact?”

  “Yes. Still, Jon-man, don’t let down your guard around Sarina. For now, though, the healers are still tending to her, and you have a few moments of peace.”

  I nodded, and Nya walked off.

  Earlier in the day, I’d had high hopes for this evening, not the least of which involved Nya and a certain succubus. That fantasy probably wasn’t going to happen now—at least not tonight.

  Only a few days ago, mere weeks, I’d been an average guy. With a regular job that I didn’t hate but didn’t love, a few buddies but most of them jerks, and no family except my brother. And most of the time, he was a condescending jerk, even when he wasn’t trying to be. The direct result of having a different father than I did. My stepdad was an asshole, and I’d broken off contact with him years ago, right after my mother died.

  A few weeks ago, when I’d arrived in Hell, I would have given anything to go back to that regular existence. To leave Hell forever. But now, I wasn’t so sure. Hell was scary—terrifying even—but there was something about this place that was starting to grow on me.

  The female creatures that lived here were a big part of it, but if I were honest with myself, it wasn’t just the mind-blowing sex and beautiful women. Although those were definitely perks. Somehow, in all this chaos, I had begun to feel like I belonged. Like I had never belonged anywhere until I arrived here. And that idea terrified me more than any wraith or wyrm I had faced. I didn’t belong here, did I? Because if I did, then that meant the Prophecy Nya had told me about might be true. And that led to a whole host of other problems I didn’t want to think about just now, like maybe all those people had died because of me, and that it was meant to happen.