Red Blooded (Jessica McClain 4) - Page 9/83

It would be risky to jump in and see where we landed. It might send us to a populated area, but it might not. My wolf cocked her head at me. Don’t give me that look. Just because I don’t want to plunge through a portal if we don’t have to, doesn’t mean I’m a wimp. For the moment I think it’s wiser to wait and see what’s going to happen here. This building is probably out of town and we can use that to our advantage. We need secrecy, not public portals that could potentially spit us out in someone’s living room. The imp may leave on its own, let’s give it a second.

She snapped her muzzle at me, impatient with my humanness.

On the other side of the door there was a crack of what sounded like a whip and a whine from one of the beasts. “I said get back, you filthy mutts,” snap, “away from that door,” the voice ordered. “We won’t have a repeat of last time. I was flayed for that little stunt. Portals are not for you mongrels.”

The imp had stationed itself right on the other side of the door.

My wolf stood at attention. Not a muscle on our body moved.

“What is that horrid smell?” The imp sniffed at the door like a dog. “Have you been naughty again?” Another crack sounded, followed by a wounded snarl-hiss. It was hard to feel sorry for chups, but they hadn’t seemed overly ferocious. They were just trying to survive in this wretched place, and weren’t we all? “Did one of you get in here and take something with you? It’s the middle of the day out there,” the imp muttered. “If you rouse the conclave by baying in the streets, it will be my head this time, not just my back.”

Middle of the day was good. Was there a sun here? Demons hated sun. “Baying in the streets” also meant outside, not inside. Outside was good. Outside was not another enclosed space.

The door handle moved.

I slid one hand to the lever and tightened my grip to keep it in place.

“What’s going on? Why won’t this open?” The imp rattled the lever. “Portal doors are never restricted!” More barks and growls erupted.

Time to make a decision. I think we have to take our chances in the portal. You win, I told my wolf. Even if we fight this imp successfully, once we’re done we have to fight that entire pack of chupacabras to find another way out.

My wolf snarled in agreement and adrenaline shot through our system, fortifying us for what was going to come next. Reluctantly, I let go of the handle and my grip on the door.

I heard the imp yell, “You little bastards will pay for whatever you did to this door” as we tumbled backward into the void.

4

Falling through the portal felt nothing like spinning through the vortex. It was empty space. Nothing touched me. There was no wind and no pressure—until I hit the ground.

Flat on my ass.

“Ooof,” I gasped, my teeth snapping together. Good grief, I thought it would be a longer ride than that. We were in there for less than thirty seconds. My wolf ignored me in favor of scenting for danger.

I glanced around. We were sprawled in the middle of a doorway, half inside and half outside what appeared to be a low concrete building. The portal exit led into some kind of alleyway. Another building, which looked the same as the one I was currently hanging out of, sat directly across from me.

I gazed upward. The sky was a strange, muted purple.

I didn’t want to admit it, but the color was sort of amazing and beautiful, even though it felt threatening and ominous at the same time. Oppressive energy pushed down on me as I studied my surroundings, trying to gauge what to do next. There’s enough light out here for it to be daylight, but I’m not sure if “sun” is the correct term on this plane. Let’s move slowly.

I stood, glancing around me like the fugitive I was, and tugged the portal door shut behind me. I made a mental note of where I was and knew I could find it by scent if I needed to. I couldn’t detect any movement anywhere. Daytime hopefully meant downtime for demons, but I didn’t want to get overly excited until I was sure. It was a lucky break I’d landed now and not in the middle of the night. I had a feeling night would be worse.

I crept forward, heading toward the edge of the building closest to me. There wasn’t a street at the mouth of the alley, instead a field of lemon yellow grass spread out as far as I could see with a lone tree positioned squarely in the middle.

Is the grass moving? I bent my head and narrowed my gaze.

It was in fact wiggling.

The tree was also strange. It was gnarled with no leaves. Instead it had blood-red flowers dotted all over its massive branches. And it was huge. Bigger than the largest redwood tree in our plane.

I slid to the very end of the building. Directly in front of me was the field of wiggling weirdness, and behind me and on both sides sat more buildings. All the same, row after row, for what seemed like miles.

I’d landed at the edge of the city.

The ground under me was paved with the same flooring as the dump, slick and perfectly flawless. It wasn’t concrete, it was something demon-made and totally foreign to me.

Tally had been right. This environment was extremely sterile. There was no dust, no dirt, nothing out of place—exactly how demons kept themselves.

Scenting the air, I couldn’t detect anything particularly strange, because it all smelled strange. The air held a lot of sulfur, but there were also many complicated layers on top. One of which was plum. Why would the Underworld smell like plums? Not normal plums, of course, but acidic, rotten ones. But my wolf wasn’t interested in debating the smelliness of Hell with me. She barked, urging us on. I know you hate it here. I do too, but we can’t leave until we find Tyler. Let’s try and scent him through all the rotten egg plum sauce. If he’s here, his signature should stick out like a wolfy sore thumb. Raw animal smell in the midst of demons should be easy to track.

With supreme caution, I peered around the corner of the building nearest the field. No one was around. Oddly, the sprawl of buildings reminded me of rows at the supermarket. Each building was the same size and the same distance apart as far as I could see in any direction.

Tally had referred to the main demon city as She’ol. And something tells me we shouldn’t walk on the grass. Yellow was never a good color. That grass was basically waving a danger flag in front of us that said: “Step Here If You Want to Die.”

We had no choice but to turn around and head through the buildings and into the city of She’ol. There wasn’t a better alternative. We just had to make sure we did it carefully.