Chapter 9
Sleep never came easily for Gunnar. It was worse in unknown places. That said, it wasn’t every day he faced down the judgement of six gods and came out on top. He’d dozed as he read over Audrey’s notes and eventually gave in, tossing the papers beside his packed bag. The cot was more comfortable than anywhere he’d slept in as long as he could remember.
But it wasn’t really the cot or the clean sheets. It was her, which he disliked as much as it lulled him into a quiet, dreamless slumber. That scent of hers, light in the darkness, lingering on everything she’d touched. Sunshine. He’d never thought of sunshine having a smell before he met her.
Gunnar bolted upright, no idea how long he’d been out, but his blood roiled. Wrong, his instincts screamed. He shoved his feet into the new boots, grabbing the hunting knife he’d stuffed under the thin pillow and the bag.
He needed to get what mattered and get the fuck out.
He bullied his door open, didn’t hesitate across the narrow hall, and kicked down Audrey’s door next.
She jolted up with a shriek, and he grabbed her by the upper arm when he caught the scent.
Hellfire.
“What are you doing!” Audrey yelled but didn’t fight him as he jerked her out of the bed and shoved her behind his body, then picked up the cot and threw it at the doorway.
Crimson flames exploded from ventilation system as the ductwork melted. Gunnar barely had time to turn, growling as heat washed over the room. Audrey screamed, her pain lancing through his senses and drowning out his own, and that dark part inside Gunnar snapped the leash.
He punched out the window, clutched Audrey against his chest, and swung them outside.
Third floor.
Fire escape.
He made the jump easy, the rusted metal protesting. Smoke billowed after them, filled with hellborn magic, burning flesh and fabric. The brick face melted, screams in the near distance cutting off short. Hellfire burned fast, hot, and out of control if it didn’t have an anchor. Flaming tongues rolled up and down the building, weaving in and out of windows, glass evaporating and the air red and black.
Audrey buried her face in his chest. He kept her tight to him as he vaulted to the next fire escape. The entire building whined, molten metal and sparks flashing, then an explosion shook the foundation.
Gas pipes.
Less time now.
With a hard kick, the fire escape ladder dropped with a squeal. Sirens echoed through the night. Burned flesh. Death. He climbed fast, but not fast enough, those hungry flames biting, chewing, burning.
They were still five feet off the ground when the fire escape lit up and melted, and they plummeted.
Gunnar turned midair, landing hard on his back. The air was forced out of his lungs, the backpack crushed against his spine, but Audrey was cradled safe against his chest. He coughed, sucking in smoky air as he hauled them to their feet. The nearby asphalt bubbled. A few patches of grass and shrubs blackened and disintegrated.
“Jonathan,” she gasped. He caught her face in both hands. He smelled her pain over the hellfire and ash and snarled. She blinked a few times as he stared at her, into her, words out of reach. She seemed to understand, shuddering as she whispered, “I’m okay.”
Enough for now.
They ran. He didn’t stop with crossing the street. Away was the goal, and not just from the immediate threat of the liquifying building, falling debris, and fire. Away from the hellfire’s source.
About three blocks over, he stopped, tucking them behind a dumpster. The sirens grew louder now, the air thick with smoke. The ground shook, a violent, rolling rumble he felt in his bones. Her apartment building had fallen, thankfully not in their direction.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, focused on his breathing. Letting his instincts rise and overpower him was easy in times of overt danger. Calling it down, that took more work. He buried his face in Audrey’s hair, searching for that sunshine, seeking a tie back to his humanity before he completely lost his shit.
Gunnar exhaled, shaking his head as intellect overrode instinct, and he pushed her back to arm’s length. Audrey let out a hiss of pain, and he let go, but she didn’t, her fists clenched on his shirt, knuckle-white. That sound. Her pain? It snapped him into focus right quick.
He cupped her cheek, making her look at him. “We’re clear.”
When she gave him a shaky nod, he turned his attention to the rest of her. They were both singed, barely caught by the fringes. Hellfire burned through flesh like a knife through hot butter. They got lucky. Real fucking lucky.
She’d gone to sleep in an oversized T-shirt, and the left sleeve had burned off. That side of her body was bright red, a seam running from her shoulder to her elbow of more severe damage. When he reached out, she flinched but didn’t let go of his shirt. He pulled the backpack off, tossing it between them. Part of the bag had burned away. Thankfully, the medkit was still there.
“Anything for burns in this bag?” Gunnar asked. When she just stared at him, he tried again. “Audrey, you’re burned. Need to treat it if we can. The kit you made for me, anything for burns?”
She blinked, owlish. “Um . . . yes. For burns.” She closed her eyes and shivered. “And pain ease.”
Good. Last thing he needed was her going into shock. It took a few seconds to wrangle the items out, the burn cream non-magical, but the pain ease was in potion form. He peeled one of her fists from his shirt, shoved the vial against her palm. “Drink it.”
“It’s for you.”
“I’m fine. Drink it.”
“But I got it for you.” Audrey’s chin jutted out.
“It’s mine. I get to do what the fuck I want with it. Drink. It,” he growled. “This cream is gonna fucking hurt.”
She drank, then buried her face in his shoulder and whimpered as he rubbed the cream on the worst of her burns, his teeth grinding at those pained sounds. He bandaged her up, as quick and gentle as he could.
“What about you?” she asked, clinging close to him as he tucked the supplies into the battered pack.
“I’m not human enough to be at risk for infections like you are. Come on, we need to keep moving.” Gunnar was used to pain. It was easy to channel it into adrenaline until he knew they were really safe.
Audrey wiped tears from her face, wincing when she touched her burned cheek. Hopefully, it wouldn’t blister too bad, and the hair that had singed away would grow back. It wouldn’t make her any less beautiful.
He stared at her for a second, registering just how close she’d come to dying.
There’d have been nothing left of her, not even ash. Hellfire didn’t just burn. It devoured.
And hellfire didn’t just show up.
“What happened?” She kept his shirt in her right hand, fingers pinching his skin, but he didn’t mind because she was alive.
Gunnar shook his head; he needed to focus, and he didn’t want to pull the darkness forward again. He didn’t want to scare her more than she already was.
“Hellfire.”
Audrey drew a shuddering breath, peering out from the alley at the pillar of inky smoke and sunset fumes filling the sky.
“My apartment . . .”
“The entire building is down. Come on.” He pulled the knife out, stuffed the sheath in his pocket for now, and tested the weight again. She’d picked a good piece for him, heavy enough to do some damage in a fight, although she’d likely picked it for survival. Then he smirked to himself; she’d probably picked it for both. Thorough.
He took a step, but she didn’t move, her gaze fixed on the hellish sky.
“The entire building? But . . . hundreds of people live there . . . that was everything. Everything I had. All my work,” she whispered.
“Come on,” he repeated, tugging her along. “Worry later. Now we move.”
She leaned into him, swaying as they walked, and he kept her going, foot over foot.
The slums weren’t far. She’d lived on the edge, the border barely visible from her third-floor window. A few more blocks and they could disappear until they figured out what to do. It wasn’t hard to chase the scent. The wind moved in their favor, desolation and smoke billowing over the glistening cityscape, neon and gold and magic shimmering uninterrupted against the night.
“Someone did this,” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
She shivered again, but he couldn’t let her rest, not yet.
The line between slum and gilded city came up stark. The block was double wide, and that was it. No fencing, no other border. Gunnar wondered what kept people out or in, or if it didn’t matter.
He’d always known which side of the line he belonged on. He stepped forward.
Audrey didn’t move.
When he tugged at her, she let go and cowered away from him. No, not him. She didn’t look at him. Her attention was over his shoulder, her face bloodless. And she shook now, her entire body. The air was cool, not cold, but she only wore a T-shirt and underwear. He cursed when he saw her dirty, cut up feet. He should’ve noticed sooner.
“I’ll carry you,” he offered, gesturing to her feet, but she shook her head.
“I can’t.”
Gunnar inhaled, taking in her scent. She was more terrified now than she’d been when they’d hung off the fire escape as the building melted around them. “Audrey?”
She stared toward the slums. “I can’t go back there.”
The place where she’d been starving on the streets, almost raped and killed, would have died if he hadn’t happened along and intervened.
“You can,” he said, stepping closer, keeping his snarl down when she retreated from him. “I got you,” he added. “Kept you safe before. I’ll keep you safe now. We need to hide, then get to Theo.” He hesitated, but he’d decided the second he’d smelled the hellfire in her apartment, so there was no point fighting it now. “Then we figure out where to go next.” Gunnar held out his hand. “Me and you.”
Audrey drew a shaking breath and took his hand.