Hellhound (Deadtown #5) - Page 56/61

“Not yet.” The hag’s middle-aged face squinted at me like a medieval housewife who suspects she’s being cheated at the market. “I have a question for you.”

“That wasn’t part of our deal.”

“Even so. Before I give up my newest hound, I must be satisfied.”

“What do you want to know?”

“The white falcon has a role to play in the coming war between the realms. According to some of the old prophecies, you cannot win without it. So why are you willing to give me this bird?”

“If what you say is true, then why do you insist on having the falcon? Pryce and the demons will win.”

She snorted. “What care I who rules this realm, so long as I have souls to hunt? But you, Victory Vaughn, you do care. So I ask again: Why give me this bird?”

In the darkness beyond the circle’s boundary, the hellhounds of Mallt-y-Nos paced and growled. They sniffed the ground, their noses outside the perimeter, yelping and whining with frustration. I watched them, wondering which one was Kane. My heart ached with not knowing.

“Why? There can be only one reason. For love.”

“Love!” The falcon had to adjust its grip as the old crone doubled over, laughing. “You would let this world be destroyed,” she said, straightening and wiping tears from her eyes, “for the love of one of my hounds?”

“He’s not your hound. You have the falcon. Release him—now.”

Her withered hand stroked the bird’s head. I could almost see Mab’s grimace at the touch. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me? I must test this falcon on a hunt to be certain. Meet me here again at this time tomorrow. If I’m satisfied, I’ll release the hound.”

Tomorrow? Even Mab couldn’t make a shift last twenty-four hours. I pushed down the panic welling up inside me. Careful, Vicky, don’t give anything away.

“This isn’t a used car lot. You don’t get to take the falcon for a test drive. Either fulfill your promise, or return the falcon to me.”

“And if I don’t?”

I raised my sword by the merest inch. Not to threaten her—yet—but to remind her I had it. The weapon wouldn’t kill her, but she’d feel its bite. Trapped inside the circle and unable to set her hounds on me, she couldn’t keep the falcon if I wanted to take it from her. I’d lop off her arm, yank away the gauntlet, and cast the severed limb aside. And she knew it.

“All right. A bargain is a bargain.” She shook the falcon off. The bird jumped to the ground, stretching its wings for balance. “My show of good faith,” she said. “I’ll call it to me when our deal is done.

The Night Hag turned and walked to the edge of the circle. “Let me out. I need to touch the hound to release him.”

Heart pounding, I went to the edge of the circle and made the motions to cut another door: up, across, down. I paused, waiting for the Night Hag to signal she was ready to pass through before finishing the last stroke.

Mallt-y-Nos nodded. I completed the doorway, and the Night Hag moved toward her waiting hounds. Then, one foot beyond the circle and the other still inside, she turned to me.

“Fraud!” she shrieked. “Cheat! You are trying to trick me!”

“I’m not—”

“The eyes! The white falcon of Hellsmoor has rainbow eyes. This bird”—she flung it away, outside the circle—“does not. Our deal is void. Kill her!”

As a single creature, the hellhounds leapt to their feet. I ran at the hag, shoving hard with both hands to push her out of the circle. But Mallt-y-Nos held her ground. She raised an arm, and a sound like ice cracking rang out.

The circle was breaking.

The cracks raced around the sphere, shattering it into fragments. Shards of energy rained down on my face and arms like electric snowflakes.

The falcon shot into the sky.

The Night Hag grinned.

And the hellhounds charged.

36

THE BRONZE OF MY BLADE FLASHED AS I BROUGHT IT around to fend off the first lunging hound.

Kane! screamed my mind. Which one was Kane?

No time for guessing games. I ducked and twisted. Jaws crashed together an inch from my shoulder. I drove upward with the dagger, catching the leaping hound under its front leg. Flesh sizzled as black blood spurted out. The hound howled. The rotten stink of sulfur made me gag.

A true demon. At least it wasn’t Kane.

As I yanked out the blade, another hound snapped at my left arm. A third got its fangs into my right ankle and shook its head, trying to drag me down. I wouldn’t last ten seconds if I fell. I slashed the dagger across its shoulder and, with my other hand, swept the sword in a wide arc. Black blood cascaded over inky fur, and its muzzle released my ankle. The hounds fell back, keeping beyond the blade’s reach. They crouched and growled and sprang, only to jump back as the blade swished toward them.

Where was Mab?

The Night Hag’s cackle sounded over her hounds’ barks and yips. Her bow held ready, she scanned the sky, then turned back to her present entertainment. Mab must be shifting. If she tried to swoop in as a falcon, the hag would shoot her out of the sky.

Pain sliced into my left thigh as a hound ducked beneath my blade and sank its teeth into me. Its acid saliva burned. I stabbed the hound’s flank, but the jaws held tight. Behind it another hound crouched, growling, its red, fiery eyes on my throat.

Teeth grabbed my ankle. Stars of pain exploded in my vision as I heard a sickening crunch. I slashed the hounds that held me, but they wouldn’t let go. My flesh tore, and the wounds burned, burned, burned. I couldn’t move.

The crouching hound leapt.

I brought up my sword.

Midway through its jump, the hound grunted. Its legs flailed as it twisted. My blade scored its side. The hound landed heavily and lay as if stunned. I hacked at the hounds that held me, stabbing over and over, until one let go, then the other. Acid ate at my ripped skin, and I feared my ankle was broken, but my bronze had left the hellhounds in even worse shape. They’d collapsed on their sides. Smoke poured from their wounds, and their bodies deflated. Neither tried to get up.

I spun to finish off the other hound, the one who’d leapt at my throat. The creature had regained its feet and stood, shaking off its fall. I lifted my sword to extinguish the crimson fire in those hellish eyes.

“Stop!” Something burst from my chest and buzzed straight to my ear. “Not that one!” Butterfly shouted. “Look at the blood.”

Bright red drops fell from the hound’s coat and splatted on the ground.

Red blood. Not black. This wasn’t a true hellhound.

“Kane?”

A furious screech erupted from my right. The hound went rigid. An earsplitting yowl emerged from its clenched jaws. It fell to the ground.

“I commanded you to kill her!” the Night Hag shrieked.

The hellhound—Kane—writhed in agony. Flames shot from his ears and nose. They consumed his body, crisping his fur and contorting his limbs.

I started toward him, but pain sliced through my ankle. It wouldn’t hold me. I kept going, half dragging, half hopping. Whatever I had to do to reach him.

Another hound charged me from the left. I drove my blade deep into its body. A thick, choking cloud of burning sulfur obscured my vision.

“Kane!” I shouted.

His answer was a growl.

“Obey me, hound!”

At her words, a nightmare vision thrust itself through the smoke: a massive hellhound, his lips drawn back over sharp, gleaming fangs, his entire body in flames. Pain blinded his eyes to everything but its target—my throat. He growled again, ears back. His muscles twitched as he prepared to attack.

I couldn’t raise my sword. I would not hurt Kane.

Butterfly spoke. “You totally owe me.” The black insect shot into the air. Kane sprang, and the Eidolon dive-bombed the attacking hound. It flew straight into his jaws.

The jaws snapped shut.

The force of Kane’s leap propelled him into me, knocking me backward. He stood with his paws on my shoulders, his jaws working as he chewed. Acid drool poured over me, dotted with fragments of black wings.

Kane stopped chewing. He looked at me and growled. He lowered his head, sniffing. I looked into his eyes, red and flaming and totally alien from the cool gray ones I knew so well. I searched them for some sign, any sign, of Kane.

For maybe ten seconds, we looked at each other. The hound cocked his head.

“Enough!” shouted the hag. “You have failed me, you pathetic cur. Pack—rip her apart!”

From all sides hellhounds lunged at us. Kane snarled and crouched, then got his fangs into the throat of one. A shake of his head tore the throat wide open. Black blood spurted. The hound gasped and fell.

I scrambled to my feet. Kane paced before me, hackles raised. Only two hellhounds remained in fighting shape. They circled, making low, guttural sounds.

The standoff didn’t last. A stream of fire blasted into Kane, somersaulting him across the field.

His agonized howl stabbed through my heart as it escalated to a scream. I slashed at the hounds that tried to block my way and, ignoring the pain in my ankle, ran toward him. A hound grabbed my calf from behind. I fell. I lay on my front, my arms up to protect my head and neck.

Teeth tore into my arm and pulled. I stabbed blindly. A yelp sounded, and the teeth let go, only to grab my shoulder. The hound shook, shredding my flesh into hamburger.

“Hounds!” A hunting horn blast split the night wide open. My attackers paused. “Leave her. Come!”

Hoofs galloped away. The hounds abandoned me where I lay and ran after them, baying.

Cautiously, I sat up. Two of the fallen hounds had risen and now staggered toward left field, where Mallt-y-Nos spurred her steed.

A few yards ahead of me, a fire died to embers.

Kane.

I crawled toward his prone body. The odor of scorched fur and charred flesh made me retch, but I kept going. I’m com-

ing, Kane. Just a few more feet. Hang on. I was almost there. Almost . . . And then I looked down at the remains of my lover.