Hellbound Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book Five) (3 page)

Glancing around the clearing, a shiver crept down Rhys’ spine as the wailing continued. It didn’t help that it was balls-fucking-cold outside on top of the menacing atmosphere. Evil permeated every inch of the surrounding area, down to the soil.

The site was bigger than he’d have guessed based on the image in the scrying bowl. The ground was barren beneath the snow, and he wondered if the trees bloomed or if groundcover grew in the spring, or if the taint of the cave had poisoned the land.

“What the ever-loving hell is that?” he asked his fellow cambions.

Dante’s blue eyes scanned the surrounding forest, blade in hand as he responded, “I’d say they are the souls trapped inside the tunnel fueling the portal to Hell.”

“Lore says that thousands of humans have been sacrificed at this site which will likely power this entranceway for centuries,” Kellen explained. Kellen, a Tennessee Dark Warrior and fellow cambion, was the third leg of this mission and, if by looking at the male, a total badass. Kellen’s breath puffed out from his thick black beard as he spoke. Between his beard, the gauges in his ears, and his baldhead, he was intimidating as hell. “The worst were the babies. The humans had no idea what they were unleashing by using the site like they did. We felt the dark magic every time there was a murder here, but like always, we stayed out of human affairs. I regret that now because, as a result, we’ve got the entrance to Hell in our backyard.”

Rhys clapped Kellen on the back. “Perhaps there is a cleansing spell in the Mystik Grimoire. We will ask Jace when we get back,” Rhys offered, understanding how he must feel. They had enough trouble in Seattle without adding to it.

Kellen cocked an eyebrow, giving him a look of
if
we get back as he adjusted his bulky backpack. Rhys knew the odds were against them, but he’d be damned if he gave up hope. Hope was the one advantage he’d have in Hell, and he planned on using it to his advantage. It was a weapon he would gladly use against the demons.

“Ready? I’m dying to say hi to my dad,” Rhys quipped, nerves prickling under his skin. It was now or never and while Rhys would prefer never, that wasn’t a choice.

Dante chuckled, “I’m hoping my mom is long dead by now. I’m sure she was pissed after dad sent her back to the underworld. With luck, Asmodeus, that three-headed freak, put us all out of our misery and killed her for good.”

Rhys eyed his Lord, thinking about what he’d said. Most cambions didn’t like their incubus or succubus parent because of their demonic tendencies. A full sex-demon was a cruel creature that didn’t care for anything except his or her pleasure, not even their children. It wasn’t uncommon for them to harm other beings so long as their needs were met.

Cambions were unique in the supernatural world. They were the only ones who could procreate without their Fated Mate and many cambions were created from an act of force and violence.

The three of them trudged over the frozen ground and entered the tunnel. The second they crossed the entrance, Rhys felt the Cave of Cruachan recognize their demon blood and grant them the admittance needed to the Underworld. Without demon blood, it would have been an ordinary walk through a tunnel, albeit a frightful one. As it was, it felt like walking through wet cement, every cell in Rhys’ body objecting. Between one step and the next, they were staring at Cerberus’ three faces. Well, make that his legs since the beast towered over them.

The danger the creature posed should have been foremost in Rhys’ mind, but the way his inner beast stretched awake and went on alert took front seat for a split second. Rhys may have hated his time with his father, but his inner beast reveled in it and felt at home.

“Shit,” Dante cursed, drawing a
sgian dubh
from the back of his waistband of his black leathers. Blue eyes sharp, Dante’s lean figure was ready to attack when the opportunity arose.

Cerberus guarded the Gate to Hell, ensuring no one escaped. The real question was if he would stop them from entering. Rhys shared a knowing look with Dante and Kellen. Each of them had spent time in the Underworld and had escaped it somehow to return to earth. The problem with that was the three-headed dog didn’t forget a scent and would no doubt remember them.

The enormous hellhound immediately growled and snapped its jaws at the warriors. Rhys took off running, sliding along the grass, blades out, trying to sneak through its legs. He managed to cut a path along its front leg, infuriating the creature.

One of its heads never left Rhys’ form, but when Dante and Kellen made a rush for it, the dog halted and leapt over the three of them, turning at the last minute. Now they were trapped between the gate to Limbo and Cerberus, leaving them no way back to earth.

The creature slowly stalked forward, forcing them to walk backwards. When his back hit the cold metal of the huge barrier, Rhys flinched. Without missing a beat, Cerberus lifted one huge paw and pressed it to the gate. It swung open and Rhys fell onto unhallowed ground. His palms hit the soft grass of the endless green fields of Limbo.

“Fuck, I never wanted to see that castle again,” Kellen muttered, brushing off his pants.

“True that. I barely made it past the censors when I left here a hundred years ago,” Rhys replied, watching Cerberus smile and use his paw to shut the barrier.

The loud clang sealed their fates. Rhys had expected a bigger fight from the guard-dog, but realized the beast only needed to eliminate their option to leave to get its revenge. What awaited them from this point on was far worse than anything the dog could ever do to them.

“I don’t remember there being so many doors,” Kellen observed, putting his weapon in a side pocket of his pack. “Which one should we try?”

Blinking to adjust his vision, Rhys had forgotten the darkness of the Underworld. There was no moon or sun to illuminate their way. He wasn’t entirely certain what cast the odd, muted glow that permeated Hell.

Focusing on the barely visible castle in the distance, Rhys contemplated their options. “It won’t be the door of chastity. We are the antithesis of chaste. But, we are diligent in our pursuit of pleasure,” Rhys waggled his eyebrows comically.

Dante rolled his eyes and said, “Remember, they represent the seven virtues, not the seven deadly sins, so I don’t think that will count, Rhys. But, we are diligent in our vow to the Goddess.”

“So, what you’re saying is we’re screwed. We might as well set up shop here,” Rhys countered as he contemplated their choices.

“Don’t give up now, we’ve got a long way to go,” Dante encouraged, heading forward.

“Don’t worry, I’m right behind you,” Rhys responded, following the male. Rhys sheathed his weapon on his belt as they quickly and quietly crossed the field.

It was eerie to see the castle in the distance with the Andras patrolling the ramparts. There was no escaping the censors of Limbo once they caught your scent. It was their job to bring every soul who deserved judgment before Aamon.

Rhys eyes the Andras with its head of a demented bird and body that was close to a human’s, with arms and legs. Like most creatures in Hell, the Andras’ skin didn’t hold the tan or peach of those on earth, but was black and leathery instead. They also had wings that enabled them to chase down souls trying to escape.

“Before we try the door,” Dante said, pausing by the castle, “we need to use the spray the Rowan’s gave us. Otherwise, this will be a very short trip for us. Didn’t they say it would mask our scent and enable us to get past the Andras?”

Rhys slipped his pack off his back and retrieved the bottle from inside, holding it up. “Yes, and thank the Goddess those witches came into power. They’ve been great allies. Two sprays, one in front of your face and one behind your head,” Rhys explained, holding the bottle.

“Let’s get this shit done. There’s no way out but forward,” Dante said, closing his eyes and holding his arms out to his sides.

Rhys sprayed him and Kellen then Dante took the potion, dousing Rhys, as well. Once sprayed from head to toe, Rhys crossed his fingers as Dante reached out for the nob in the middle of the large wooden door.

Dante glanced over his shoulder and twisted. Rhys was shocked when they were granted ingress into the castle. Entering from the side, they silently maneuvered their way down a surprisingly ornate hall. Fancy tables were strategically placed every few feet. Rhys cocked his head at the porcelain statues of various higher-level demons and candelabras that adorned the tops. He didn’t recall seeing the detailed decorations when he’d been fleeing a hundred years earlier, but that had been the last thing on his mind.

It could be a trick of his memory, but he expected to see cobwebs and dust and mold everywhere rather than the pristine castle they traversed. The sight of the female souls walking around with dusters and other cleaning equipment explained why the place was so immaculate. Question was whether they had been there before or if this was a new addition.

“Aamon runs a tight ship, and manages to keep out the dregs. It’s actually pretty fucking impressive,” Rhys observed.

“This is the first level and the place where other souls are judged. It shouldn’t be too hard to keep the place looking nice when there’s nothing that attracts lesser demons. The other circles have more temptations to offer. I imagine none of the lesser demons want to be that close to Cerberus, either,” Dante suggested as they passed two buxom females.

Rhys paused and smiled at them, making them blush. They must be slaves because they weren’t the incorporeal souls that were typical in Limbo. Glancing around he noticed there were plenty of those who had obviously passed on and were awaiting judgment, but these flesh and bones females had clearly been taken hostage.

Kellen suddenly jerked Rhys into a side room as an Andras walked down the hall. Rhys pressed his body flat against the wall and waited to see if the spray actually worked. Heart hammering in his chest, the creature paused, flared its nostrils for a breathtaking second then moved on.

Exhaling the breath he’d been holding, Rhys wiped sweat from his brow. “Thank the Goddess that spray worked. I could kiss those witches right now,” he whispered.

Peering around the corner, Rhys noticed the two females were also plastered against the wall in the hall. “Is it clear?” he asked them.

Their eyes flared and they looked up and down the hall then nodded their heads. “Where’s your collar?” one female whispered.

Rhys followed her hand to the clutched silver collar that was wrapped around her neck. It was a slave collar that kept them bound to their owners. Slaves couldn’t travel between levels of hell, and would suffer great pain if they tried to escape. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go that wasn’t worse than where they already were.

“We’re warriors sent by the Goddess. Have you heard anything about Lucifer escaping his prison?” Rhys asked, hoping any rumors would have made their way to this first level.

Both females paled considerably, shaking their heads. “Lucifer is going to escape?” one asked, her voice trembling. Rhys understood their fear. Lucifer was capable of horrendous evil.

Kellen reached out and squeezed her hand, letting some of his cambion-born ability to mentally manipulate leak through. Typically, cambions would coerce females into sex, but he was trying to calm her. “No, we are going to stop him. What’s the fastest way to the Second Circle?” Kellen asked.

The female pointed down the hall. “Go right at the end of the hall and then take the first left and then the second right. There will be doors leading to the gardens. The entrance is through the ivy-covered trellis,” she explained.

Kellen leaned down and kissed her cheek, “Thank you.” Kellen towered over the small female, appearing more menacing, if that was possible. Rhys had to laugh. No doubt they looked like a group of thugs, dressed in black from head to toe. Black leather pants, black leather jacket, black boots and black t-shirt.

Making their way quickly to the doors leading to the gardens, they had to dodge Aamon when they saw his snake tail rounding a corner. Rhys wondered what kinds of demons bred to make him. He had a small owl’s head and the fore body of a wolf with the tail of a snake. An odd combination to be sure, but he had the gift of hind and foresight if he touched you. They had to avoid him at all costs, or their little foray was going to be cut short. He would no doubt turn them over to Lucifer to gain favor with the Lord of the Underworld.

They hadn’t encountered too many of the damned as they traveled through the castle, but looking out into the garden, they saw hundreds, if not, thousands of souls waiting for judgment. The Andras flew above the group and would occasionally swoop down and grab hold of some poor being. Their screams were blood-curdling, but Rhys steeled his reaction, knowing the situations were only going to get worse the deeper they traveled into Hell. Still, the sound made him sick to his stomach.

Fate was a sick bitch for making him come back here, Rhys thought, already being tested. When he’d fled a hundred years before, his biggest priority had been saving his own ass, yet now that he’d spent a century protecting others, he bristled at the idea of leaving these souls to suffer.

“I hate leaving them here, especially, the slaves. Life for them must be a special kind of torment. Do you think these gardens grow actual food that they can eat?” Rhys asked, thinking of the gruel slaves were fed in other circles. There wasn’t much edible food in the bowels of Hell and was never fed to the slaves. Rhys had to wonder if it was different in Limbo because it was the only place in Hell that was green and healthy.

“I know it’s difficult, but you need to look past the suffering or we will never succeed. We can’t do anything to help and if we try we risk bringing attention to us,” Dante warned, slipping by a group of souls that looked like they were related. They all had the same facial structure and frames. What stood out most to Rhys were eyes full of sorrow.

As they made their way through the crowd, souls began clawing at their sleeves, seeking an escape. Lacking substance, their hands slid through Rhys’ body, leaving ice in his veins. Rhys shivered, forcing himself to focus on the trellis across the grass. If he paid attention to the plight of these unfortunate souls, he’d never make it past the first level. Besides, he told himself, these souls had done something in their lives to land in Limbo rather than
Annwyn
.