Hotter Than Hell (31 page)

“Kitchen,” he said. “There’s a cellar door to the right.”

Dead things lived in the cellars, Jimmy had said. I shuddered and had to fight the urge to run, to just get out of this house and away from the evil it sheltered. But if teenagers had the courage to go down those stairs, then I damn well could.

He directed the flashlight’s beam into the cellar door, illuminating the well-worn stairs and the boarded-up walls. The air drifting up was damp, musty, and the scent of flesh and decay stronger. I swallowed heavily and started breathing through my mouth. It only helped a little.

The stairs creaked as we went down them, the sound jarring sharply against the thick silence. The watchfulness of the house seemed to increase the further we descended into the cellar’s darkness and yet I couldn’t pinpoint it to the presence of a vampire. Which didn’t mean it wasn’t near, just that I couldn’t sense it in the stinking air.

The stairs finally met floor. Ethan swept the light across the black, the bright beam pinpointing corners, cobwebs, and shelving stocked with cans and other goods that looked as old as the house. No bones or coffins, though. I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not.

“There’s another door over here.” He pointed the light to a right corner, then he reached back with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around mine. “Are you all right?”

For a moment I clung to him, needing the warmth and the strength that flowed from his grip to battle the chill beginning to invade my soul. “Just.”

“You can go upstairs—”

“No,” I cut in. “We both need to confront this evil.”

He didn’t question the certainty in my voice, just squeezed my fingers again then released me. The room seemed darker, more depressing, without his touch.

We went through the second door. Our footsteps echoed and the boards creaked under our weight. It was here we found Jimmy’s bones and coffin.

“These are years old,” Ethan said, picking up what looked like a femur and studying it.

I shuddered. It was bad enough feeling the wisps of agony stirring the air. Touching the bones of the dead would only intensify that connection, and that I
didn’t
need. I walked over to the coffin sitting against the wall with the lid open. It was squat and fat, and far wider than a normal coffin. And it was made of hardwood that had hastily been banged together and then lined on the inside with what looked like an old blanket. Homemade rather than professional.

“This isn’t the coffin of an adult,” I said, squatting down next to it. Strands of eagerness and darkness rose from the inside of the box, as if the emotions had soaked through the wood over time. “And it belongs to our vampire. But why would a vamp use it when they don’t need to?”

“Maybe she gets off on scaring the crap out of visiting teenagers.” He shrugged and rose. “None of these things is the source of our smell. We need to find that.”

We may have needed to, but I didn’t particularly
want
to. I might not be able to talk to souls, but I could hear them. Could feel their hopes, their dreams and their deaths lingering on the air, and these particular deaths already felt bad enough. I didn’t know if I could face the pain that waited where their bodies lay.

We walked on. The creaking in the boards increased, until the whole floor seemed to vibrate under each step.

“This doesn’t feel particularly safe,” I muttered.

Ethan stopped again and held out one hand. I wrapped my fingers in his gratefully. It might not be any safer, but damn if I didn’t feel more secure.

A large crack ran across the silence as we moved on. I paused, but Ethan tugged me forward. “I doubt we’d fall very far, even if the flooring gave away,” he said. “There are probably only a couple of inches between the boards and the earth, just for ventilation.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when there was an almighty snap, and the flooring underneath us fell away.

And we were falling, tumbling into deeper darkness.

I HIT EARTH WITH A CRUNCH THAT JARRED EVERY
bone from toes to neck, and fell sideways with a gasp. Wood and dust rained around me, and something sharp speared into my leg. I yelped, and scrambled to my hands and feet, moving into the deeper darkness, desperate to get out of the path of the still-falling wood.

“Grace?” Ethan said, his voice little more than a hiss of air. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just gotta stop a cut from bleeding.” I called to my wolf shape, felt the surge of magic roll my body, shifting, changing, and in the process, healing. To my wolf nose, the scents in the air sharpened dramatically, and I knew without even seeing it that bloody death awaited discovery a hairsbreadth away. I shifted shape again and said, “Point the flashlight my way.”

There were several clicks, then light flared across the utter black. I turned. Bodies lay before me. Bodies in various stages of disintegration, some fully fleshed, some not, but all rotting.

And the smell…

My stomach turned and bile rose thick and fast up my throat. I gagged and quickly backed away, not wanting to puke over those who already suffered enough. Not that they’d know, but their ghosts might.

And their ghosts were here, in this room, filling the shadows with their pain and confusion and horror. The sheer force of it flooded my senses, making my whole body shudder and my heart ache.

“My God,” Ethan said softly. “There have to be at least twenty of them.”

The ghosts were stirring, whispering. Warning. I gulped down air, trying to keep calm, trying to keep their shadows and pain at arm’s length.

And then something else stirred out there in the blackness. There was no sound, no shifting of air, nothing to indicate movement. But I felt it all the same.

Evil had woken.

I backed away until I reached Ethan, and slowly reached for the flashlight, directing the bright beam toward the distant shadows ahead.

There was a quick gleam, like the sparkle of a cat’s eyes caught in moonlight, then it was gone.

Evil was on the move.

Ethan swore softly. “Keep behind me,” he said, taking his gun from the holster. The click of the safety being released echoed across the heavy silence. I reached back, freeing the stakes and gripping them tightly.

“Can you smell it?” I asked.

He shook his head. “The reek of decay is so strong it’s overwhelming everything else. You?”

I flared my nostrils, sucking in the foul air, letting it run across my other senses. Even against the thick stink of rotting flesh, the taste of evil could not hide. “It’s to our right, near the wall. Waiting, watching.”

He swept the light in that direction. Again, eyes sparkled briefly before disappearing. “It’s retreating,” I said softly.

“Then let’s follow it to its lair.”

Let’s not, I thought, but followed him onwards anyway. The utter blackness seemed to close in on us, as thick and as heavy as a blanket. The vampire was out there, but it wasn’t running, wasn’t scared. Just moving away, trying to avoid us. Like a kid who knows she shouldn’t be out, I thought, as a chill ran across my skin.

If there was a kid, could there be a parent? Was this evil swirling through the air the sum of two vampires, not one?

The room ended in a shored-up wall. Ethan swept the light left, then right, until the bright beam highlighted a break in the wall. A break that led into stone and dirt and the chill of deeper underground.

“I didn’t know there were any caverns in this area,” I said, wincing a little as my voice echoed across the heavy silence.

“It’s not natural. There are pick marks. Could be part of an old mine that the house was built over.”

An old mine that a vampire had labeled home…I stilled suddenly, and raised my nose, sucking in the foul air. There, entwined in darkness and old evil, was another, familiar scent.

“Jon’s here,” I whispered. “To the left.”

“I smell him. I can’t hear him, though.”

Though I strained my ears, I couldn’t hear anything either. No breathing, no scent of life. Nothing that would indicate anything else lived in this foul place.

We moved into the cavern. Ethan swept the light across dank walls, until it finally came to rest on the body of a boy.

There was no sign of life because Jon was dead. His face gaunt and pale, his neck torn open, his mouth red from bloody kisses. Kisses that had sucked his life force after it had sucked his blood.

“Shit,” Ethan said, and moved forward.

In that moment, evil attacked.

“Look out,” I yelled, a heartbeat before the vampire hit Ethan. He leapt aside, but not fast enough. A whirlwind of evil swamped him, scrawny arms and legs all force, all power. The gun and light went flying, and for an instant, we plunged into darkness. Then the flashlight flickered back to life, and for several heartbeats I could only watch—heart in my mouth—as Ethan battled the thin but far-from-frail vampire. He blocked more blows than a werewolf should have been able to, but the vampire’s speed still allowed many others to get through.

I gripped the stakes so hard my knuckles were practically glowing, and ran at the pair of them. The vampire spun and hissed, sharp teeth gleaming and green eyes glowing with unearthly fire in the dark. I propped and stabbed with the stake, aiming for her heart. The vamp twisted away, then dropped and lashed out with a bare foot. I jumped the blow, saw Ethan dive forward, tackling the vampire at waist height in an obvious attempt to drag her down.

Wolves were strong, but vamps were stronger, and this one had the power of a fresh feed behind her. He barely even moved her. She hissed again, then twisted around and smashed Ethan in the head, throwing him down and back. And then she lunged at me.

I dropped to the ground. Her shadow soared over my head, and the stench of blood and death and sheer evil was so bad I gagged. The soft thump of her landing told me where she was, even if her scent was too overwhelming to pinpoint it exactly. I spun, and lashed out with a booted foot. The blow connected with solid darkness and she grunted. But it didn’t stop her. I twisted, whipping the stake across the darkness. Felt it scrape across flesh, saw sparks flicker like fireflies. She howled and lashed out with a clenched fist. I leaned back, felt the breeze of the blow brush past my chin. I didn’t even see her other fist. It caught the side of my face with enough force to knock me off my feet. I hit the floorboards with a grunt, the stakes flying from my hands as I battled to catch my breath.

Then her weight hit me, her body covering my length, pinning me to the floor. Her stench flooded my senses, making it hard to breathe, to think, to feel anything but darkness and evil.

“Grace, thrust up!” Ethan yelled.

I bucked with my body, dislodging her grip on me slightly. Then I shoved my arms between us and thrust her back with every ounce of strength I had. It was enough to push her up and away from me.

A gunshot rang out, and the vampire’s head exploded. Blood and flesh and God knows what else sprayed across the wall as the vampire’s body slumped to the floor. I scrambled to my hands and feet, sweeping the floor with my fingers, looking for the stakes. And finding them.

“Let me,” Ethan said, taking one from me and moving with grim resolution to the vampire. In one smooth, clean motion, he drove the stake through her sternum, into her heart.

Fire flared where wood met flesh, quickly becoming an inferno that consumed what remained of the vampire. I released a shuddery breath, and closed my eyes. At least she could no longer threaten anyone.

So why did it feel as if evil still resided in this house?

“Are you okay?” Ethan’s voice was filled with concern as he dropped to his knees in front of me.

I nodded. “It doesn’t feel like it’s over though. It still feels like this house has secrets.”

“Yeah, and that secret is just how many people have found their deaths at that vampire’s hands.”

“No, it’s more than that.”

He looked past me, nostrils flaring as his gaze swept the darkness. “I can’t smell anything beyond old death and new blood. Can your psychic senses pick anything up?”

“Just a continuing sense of evil.”

“If this vamp was a fosterling, then its creator would have appeared the minute we attacked her.”

“I know, I know.” It still didn’t ease the feeling we were missing something. Or someone.

But maybe that was merely nerves. A leftover of the evil that had been entrenched in this house for generations.

“Let’s go back to the guest house and write up a report for Frank,” he said, taking my hand and tugging me to my feet. “We’ll let him and the cops deal with the rest of this mess.”

With that I couldn’t argue.

“WRITING THE REPORT” TURNED OUT TO BE A
euphemism for getting back and having sex. Not that I minded. After all the death and decay of that house, I needed to feel life and heat and healthy emotions. Needed it to sweep away the remaining strands of darkness latched to my soul.

The minute the door slammed shut, he grabbed my hand and drew me into his arms. His body was warm and hard against mine, his gaze fierce.

“I’m so glad you weren’t seriously hurt,” he muttered, “And I have so needed to do this.”

“This” was his mouth on mine, plundering hard, our tongues tangling, tasting, the kiss urgent and hungry.

He pushed me back until I hit the wall. The thunder of his heart matched mine, and the heat of him warmed every pore. But the hard length of him, pressed firmly against my belly, was nowhere near close enough.

His hands were on me, his fingers scorching my flesh as he ripped off my clothes. I unbuttoned his pants, tore off his shirt. Then he was in me, filling me, liquefying me. His thick groan of pleasure was a sound I echoed. He began to move, and there was nothing gentle about it. His body plundered as his lips had plundered, his movements hard and fast and urgent. The rich ache grew, becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations that washed through every corner of my mind. Then the shuddering took hold and I gasped, grabbing his shoulders, clambering up his body to wrap my legs around his waist and push him deeper still. Pleasure exploded between us as he thrust and thrust and thrust.