Infernal Bonds (15 page)

I found myself looking Lysander over; if he hadn’t have been a damn hound I’d have thrown myself at him already. He was everything I dreamt of in a man, physically at least.

“Stop fawning over the hound and come and get this tracker. You have a city to save, do you not?"

Kadrix's eyes danced with amusement as he held out a blood red locket affair. He handed it to Quin, his fingers brushing over Quin’s during the exchange. Quin didn’t seem to notice. His focus remained on the locket.
 

“It has been activated. Bring me back something... fun."

I recoiled from the elf as his tongue slipped out over his lips; he was taking it too far. Quin however smiled and held the locket in the palm of his hand.
 

“It works!"

The elf huffed. “Of course it does, now follow it. I tire of your sister's constant presence in my workshop."

I ignored him and followed after Quin as he headed to the door.
 

“It's pointing across the river, I see images of a large church and a square."

“Because there aren't many of those in this city...oh wait," I said sarcastically over my shoulder at Kadrix.
 

Quin shot me a dark look. "It's Strossmayerovo! I can see it. We must go. Now."

We didn't have time to screw around with public transport; we piled into the back of a taxi. Lysander squeezed into the middle of the seat, his firm thigh pressing against mine. I looked out the window at the dark city with the bright lights over the shops while taking a mental inventory of the weapons I had on me. It was one hound; my usual loadout would do. I had two daggers and a set of silver-coated throwing knives, along with iron filings. I tried not to swear at the driver as he hit the brakes and made us all lurch forwards, he'd been promised a good tip if he could get us there within ten minutes. I was thrown against the inside of the door as he careened down a narrow road with smooth cream walls towering up around us. It quickly opened out into a more industrial area as we sped alongside the river. Holešovice was a very different aesthetic to Vinohrady. It was an up-and-coming area that had been the industrial area not long ago. The buildings were a curious mix of the traditional old architecture, with intricate mouldings and tall spires, and modern glass boxes.
 

The driver pulled up alongside the tall church that looked like something right out of a Disney movie, with its yellowy-cream smooth stone and dark brown edging, complete with tower for a princess. Quin thrust a bundle of notes at him and we jogged around the corner to the small square. Fortunately, no one was waiting at the tram stop; we had no witnesses that I could discern. The businesses had already closed up, leaving us free to deal with the hound. A muffled scream came from the front of the church. Our heads snapped around to look at the source. What I assumed was the hound stepped out from the shadows, dragging a woman who had been bound and gagged. Blood smeared her left eyebrow, marring her pale skin; panic filled her brown eyes. The hound, however, looked very pleased with himself. His broad chest was puffed out, and a large grin split his harsh, angular face.
 

Lysander snarled at my side; I pulled my daggers but remained still. Something was wrong. The other hound was the opposite of Lysander; where my hound was lean with dark hair and stunning blue eyes, the other hound was tall, broad, with pale blond hair and thick, heavy muscles. He threw the woman down onto the cold square. She thrashed for a moment, but stilled when he looked down at her with contempt. Movement caught my eye from the rooftop to our left; a tinkling sound rang out from our right. I looked up slowly. Shadowy figures were emerging from the darkness. We were surrounded.
 

The other hound laughed when I ran at him. If I could get there first, then it would be over. Two black-clad figures appeared in front of me between me and the hound. They wore delicate flame-coloured silk masks that hid their appearance. I felt Lysander fighting against me, a squirming in the back of my mind. I hadn't realised that I'd been holding him back. I mentally pulled back the dark ropes from him in my mind releasing him to do as he needed. One of the wannabe ninjas was fool enough to try and land a spinning kick. I ducked under her while slashing at her tendons with one blade and slicing at her inner thigh with the other. The robes got in the way and protected her femoral artery, but I nicked her tendon. Lysander's snarls filled the air, accompanied by the woman's muffled screams. More of the black-clad people appeared from all around us; they were soon fighting side by side with infernally imbued zombies. My hopes of stopping the ritual were crumbling by the second.
 

The people in black weren’t as well trained as they should have been. Their limbs tangled in their robes, and they telegraphed their moves. I didn’t have to push too hard to cut them down. I broke one's knee when it failed with a sloppy kick; the crunch was satisfying, but not as much as the scream of pain that came after it. She went down with a quick blow to the temple. I cut my way through the black-clad people, hacking at tendons and slashing stomachs and throats. My mind was calm and focused, my instincts took me through the familiar motions that I’d practised thousands of times.
 

The zombies, on the other hand, were more of a problem. Pain threatened to cloud my mind from the blows that rained down on me. Heavy, clawed fists pounded my ribs, arms and back. I ducked and weaved as quickly and efficiently as I could, trying to hack down the zombies. Slashing the tendons didn’t do me much good. I tore off hands and shattered wrists where I could. I had my fingers wrapped around a woman’s spine when someone drove their fist into my lower back. I was pushed forward into the zombie. I broke the fragile old spine and shoved the body away before turning to face my latest attacker.
 

My instincts carried me through a blur of motion and sensation. Screams, groans and wails filled my ears as my blades sank into cool flesh and my boots crunched brittle bones. Blood trickled down the side of my face and covered my hands, my ribs screamed in agony, but I had to stop the ritual. Lysander emerged from the mess covered in blood and gore. He snapped the neck of the zombie in front of me with apparent ease. A grin plastered his face that quickly darkened when we felt the ripple through the square. The ritual had been completed. It was punctuated with the maniacal laugh of the other hound.
 

A fresh well of energy filled me, driving me onwards to kill the hound. The desire to tear his throat out almost consumed me. I used it to tear through the zombies, their heads smashing onto the stone floor, limbs breaking, and necks shattering. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the instincts weren’t entirely my own, but it wasn’t the time to fight them. We had to save the city. The square was a mess by the time we were done. The black-clad creatures had long since slipped away into the night. The ritual had left blood smeared over the grey squares, intestines strung out between the infernal symbols. Her heart sat in a pool of congealing blood in the centre of it all. We'd failed.
 

A glance around the chaos told me that Quin and Lysander were both ok.
 

“Where is it now?" I called over to Quin.
 

Creases formed around his eyes, his brow furrowed, and he clutched the tracker a little tighter.
 

“I don't know. It's not working."

I cursed out the elf. He had to do one thing, and he fucked it up. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself.
 

“Who do we have that can clear this mess up?"

Quin shook the tracker before he snapped to. “I'll make some calls."

I squeezed my eyes shut, the last thing we needed was humans asking questions about something as horrific as that. It was one thing in a cemetery, but a busy square was an entirely different thing. I kicked a zombie head in frustration. We'd been so close. I didn't know who or what those black-clad fools were, but we'd killed a few. The hound clearly had more help than we'd originally anticipated.
 

Quin had spoken to Kadrix on the phone, who had told him that he'd had enough of my negative energy in his alchemy lab and it was affecting things, so we made our way up the hill to Elise's church. Kadrix had joined us not long after Quin ended the phone call.
 
A crew of people had been cleaning up the mess the ritual had left and giving passers-by stories when we left. I couldn't help but pause and look up at the night sky; small clouds covered some of the peaceful sight, but some patches of star-laden black were still visible. I took a deep breath and allowed it to calm and soothe me. Kadrix huffed something, but Lysander remained close when he and Quin continued on to the church.
 

"I haven't stopped and looked at the stars before. The opportunity wasn't presented in my former life."

Pain rippled from the back of my mind. I offered him a small smile. He may have been a beast, but he was my beast. With a sharp nod, I continued on to the church without a word. The stars were something that I wasn't ready to truly share with him. It had been a long time since I'd stayed out and star-gazed with Quin. I realised how wrapped up we'd become in the hunting. The little luxuries and moments had changed. His laughter mingled with Kadrix's ahead of us; a lot had changed.
 

Elise eyed Kadrix with mild suspicion before a smile parted her blue lips. Kadrix circled around her muttering something while Lysander and I approached. Elise watched the elf closely but opened her arms to greet me with a deep hug.
 

She held me at arm's length.
 

"Look at the state of you! Kadrix, why haven't you healed them? You call yourself an alchemist..." she scolded him.

He stopped and crossed his arms. "Yes, I am an alchemist. Not a healer."

I rolled my eyes at him before I said, "And you've been paid for a year’s services."

His nostrils flared and the tips of his pointed ears turned pink, but he just said, "Fine. I have some ointment on me," as he patted his leather satchel.

I filled in Elise on the details while Kadrix cleaned up Quin's injuries. Her face darkened at the mention of the black-clad people.
 

"The witches have chosen their side, then."

I raised an eyebrow; I hadn't heard of witches acting that way before. She sighed and flopped down onto the sofa, almost kicking Lysander who insisted on sitting on the floor by my feet.
 

She petted his head absent-mindedly and said, "There are certain factions within the witches who deal with combat magic. They are mercenaries, some are assassins, but most are closer to thugs for hire."

I curled my lip; witches were becoming something of a bane.
 

She continued on, "They're usually not particularly skilled with magic, and so they're trying to bring pride back to their family through mercenary work."

Kadrix walked up to stand at the back of the sofa. "We should have known witches would take the infernal side in all of this, they're always so eager for power and too weak of mind to see past their noses."

He looked down at me. "Come along, Evelyn, I don't have all night."

I ground my teeth together but stood and stripped off my blood-stained shirt for him. The ointment tingled and burned, but I fought to keep my face calm and straight. Nothing good came from showing the elf my discomfort.
 

"Tell me, what's happening between you and the hound?" he said.

I smiled sweetly and said, "Tell me what's happening between you and my brother."

His elegant fingers probed a particularly nasty bite a little too deeply; a smile flickered across his lips while his eyes held mine. I maintained my sweet smile despite the increasing pain; I would not be beaten.
 

Finally he looked away and said, "Your brother is a rather special creature, I enjoy his company." He leaned in and whispered in my ear, "He's also a talented kisser."

“Thank you for healing my injuries," I said as levelly as I could before I put on the clean shirt that Elise handed me.
 

I would tear the elf into tiny pieces if he dared hurt Quin. I didn't care what gender Quin fell for, but no one hurt him and lived to tell the tale. Elves were far too interested in their deals and sacrifices to put someone else first, but sometimes, the heart made foolish decisions.
 

Lysander growled and grumbled while Kadrix spent a little too long running his long fingers over the hound's toned abdomen. The desire to tell him to remove his hands from my hound flared up; I pushed it aside and focused on the more important situation.
 

I looked between Elise and Lysander. "What now?"

As if in answer to my question, the sky outside flashed blood red, bathing the dimly lit room in a garnet flash that burned itself into the back of my eyes. I practically leapt over the back of the sofa and ran out the back door to see what was going on. A storm raged overhead. The sky was bathed in blood-red clouds, with crimson- and ruby-coloured lightning streaking down into the city below. The thunder growled and crashed overhead; the church shook behind me when a particularly violent crash exploded overhead. Elise stood next to me; her pale skin had a grey tone to it. She bit her bottom lip. Things had just gotten a whole lot worse.
 

I paced around Elise's small living room. "How is this even happening?"

"Witches," Kadrix spat.
 

Lysander was curled up on the sofa watching me pace. "They need there to be a widespread fear throughout the city to help open the hellmouth."

I squeezed my eyes shut and said, as calmly as I could muster, "And how do we stop it?"

"We track down those responsible and stop them," Kadrix said, as if it was nothing.

I glared at him. "Your tracker worked once."

His expression darkened, his shoulders tensed, and his fingers began working some magic before he said, "The witches interfered with it and broke it; I couldn't have prepared for that in the short timespan you gave me."