Wolves
He turns in circles, crouching into a fighting stance. He doesn’t question my instincts, and I file that away, remembering to buy him dinner sometime. The fact he has my back so readily warms me, endearing him to me even further.
More cracking sounds reach us. With each snap, whatever’s out there moves closer.
I join Zeke in a crouched stance. From out of the thick brush, two demons step onto the path, heads tilted, sniffing the air with bloodlust. The taller of the two is missing his nose, nothing but two holes in its place.
His eyes have no pupils; white nothingness stares directly at me.
The skin around his eyes hangs loose, the muscle below exposed.
Long, greasy black hair falls to his shoulders.
He looks like he just came from a fight and he lost.
The other has the head of a wolf, yellow eyes large and dilated. He stands on two feet, swaying back and forth.
What the hell?
“Are you seeing this?” I call over my shoulder to Zeke, not willing to risk turning my back on the monsters.
“I’ve gotta say, I’m not feeling good about this turn of events,” Zeke admits.
He can say that again. It’s been years since I’ve come against anything other than a vampire, and it’s been a millennium since I’ve encountered a werewolf.
Worse yet, they’re out during the day. That is something I’ve never witnessed.
Demons are typically eviscerated by the sun, which makes it impossible for them to roam during the day.
It was one of the curses God put on Lucifer when he was banished to Hell. Eternal darkness for him and all the original fallen angels. This new development is bad. Very bad.
My eyes roam the two creatures, looking for anything that would help me understand how they’re out.
“One of you wanna tell me how you’re still standing? Considering the sun is out,” I say, lifting my chin upward.
No-nose steps forward. “Things are changing,” he says. His voice slithers over me, menacing and malicious. “The days of hiding are almost over.”
My eyebrow rises to a point. “How?” I spit the word.
The wolf throws his head back and howls, while the other laughs maniacally.
“Friends.” It’s all he offers.
Witches.
The only thing that makes sense is that the witches have teamed up with Lucifer, but what’s in it for them? The covens around here don’t play nice with any creature. They keep to themselves and don’t get mixed up in the celestial politics that the rest of us are forced to partake in.
The werewolf raises a fur-thick paw to scratch at his ear, and that’s when I see it—the talisman on his finger. Definitely witches.
There are different covens all over Earth, and each sides with either Heaven or Hell. One faction wants peace and to be left to themselves, while the other wants hell on Earth and to reign supreme. Dark witches are at work here.
“You stumbled across the wrong fallen today, boys,” I say, lacing as much conviction as I can muster into my threat.
“We’re going to feast on your heart, angel.” He growls the word like a curse.
As much as I want to unleash my signature brand of cocky, they’ve caught me off guard.
I have the benefit of Zeke’s help, but we’re unarmed.
Neither of us has our swords on us, and unless Zeke has powered up, we’re at a major disadvantage.
This fight isn’t going to be one of the easiest I’ve embarked on. I grit my teeth.
“Smell that, Magrid?” No-nose directs to the wolf. “Fear. She’s going to taste delicious.”
I huff. That’s good. Underestimate me. That’ll work well for you, I think to myself, channeling all the rage I can muster up. It comes much easier than anticipated, the lingering anger from my dream sweeping over me.
No-nose slinks toward me, his left leg dragging behind him at an odd angle. He definitely lost a fight recently. Or he was tortured.
I glance in Zeke’s direction, and he smirks, noticing what I had already worked out.
Homeboy making his way toward me is going to be easy peasy to take out. It’s the wolf I have my eye trained on.
Zeke steps in front of me, seemingly eager to take out No-nose. “Mind if I take this one?”
“Help yourself, but don’t think I don’t notice you’re taking easy street.”
He grins, right before crouching and jumping up into a roundhouse kick, knocking No-nose back a good ten yards. When he lands on his feet, he looks back at me, chest all pumped up as though he has something to brag about. Yeah, so what if he didn’t even break a sweat.
“I’ve seen more impressive takedowns.” I shrug, biting my lip in a playful manner.
The truth was, watching Zeke work is sexy as hell. That I can admit.
He laughs. “You like me, English. It’s written all over your face.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Don’t get cocky. You still have another one to take out, and he doesn’t look as easy,” I say, nodding my head in the wolf’s direction.
“Come get it,” Zeke calls out to the wolf, but it doesn’t move.
The demon called Magrid throws his head back once more and howls, long and then in clipped yelps. I frown, taking in the peculiar scene, and then it hits me. He’s summoning something.
“Zeke, get back. He’s calling more.”
Zeke frowns as he digests what I yelled. Before he can make sense of it, four more wolves come out of the woods to stand behind Magrid.
“Fuck. Tori, run!” Zeke bellows, backing up quickly to put as much distance as he can between him and the pack. “Tori, I said go,” he commands, but I don’t move. I won’t desert him. He said he wanted to fight alongside me; now’s his chance.
“Go,” he screams, turning and running toward me.
Seeing his retreat, I decide to heed his words, and I take off as soon as he’s past me.
I’m running at inhuman speeds, but it’s not fast enough.
My diminished power is making me damn near mortal.
A quick peek over my shoulder proves what I feared—the pack is gaining on us.
Zeke is fifty yards ahead of me, faster than I am, but not even he will be able to outrun these demons.
The sky darkens overhead, clouds snuffing out the sun. Within seconds, the area is shrouded in darkness. They’re controlling the elements. Not. Good.
I look back again, and the yellow eyes glowing in the dim light have me pumping my arms faster.
My mind walks through all my options at warp speed.
Without Solis, my chances of taking all five of the wolves is bleak, even with Zeke’s help.
We’re in uncharted territory. I have no idea of the strength these creatures possess.
My run-ins over the past several years have been exclusively with vampires.
That’s when all hope is lost. Ahead of Zeke, another pack of werewolves step into our path, surrounding us at our front and back. Zeke and I put our backs together, each facing one of the packs.
“What do we do?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, not willing to show fear.
“Go for the pack leader’s heart. It’s all I’ve got, Tori. It has to work,” he says, squeezing my hand.
“Can using their name benefit us?”
“I’m not sure. Call it out and see,” he suggests.
“Magrid, freeze,” I yell out, shaking my head at the lameness of my command.
A loud roar shakes the trees and ground beneath us. My eyes widen, not knowing what the hell’s happening. Did his name cause this reaction?
Even the wolves stop in their tracks, sniffing the air and looking around. Whatever’s out there has even the demons shaken. Magrid’s jowls open into an intimidating smile, and I know that using his name doesn’t have the same effect as calling out an angel’s.
“Shit,” I curse, beginning to lose my cool. “It didn’t work.”
“Tori, listen to me,” Zeke whispers. “When I say go, run to your left into the trees. Our best chance is to lose them while most of them are distracted.”
I nod my head, unable to speak.
The loud roaring continues, and I cover my ears with my hands, trying to drown out the unnerving sound.
“Go,” Zeke says, and I take off, running through the overgrown forest. Branches scratch at my exposed skin, tearing flesh wounds that will heal much slower than usual, considering my powers are drained.
The bushes on both sides of me rustle, signaling I’m not alone. The wolves are closing in, and I’m not sure how many followed me. The only thing for me to do is face the threat head on, no matter the cost. I’ll never outrun them.
I stop, turning to assess the situation.
All of them followed me.
There are two angels in these woods, but they all decided to follow me and leave Zeke.
That doesn’t add up. I might be stronger, but these creatures wouldn’t be able to determine what my powers are. They aren’t strong enough. These are bottom feeders.
The pack moves slowly toward me, tongues hanging out and clawed paws hanging to their sides.
One’s missing. The original wolf, Magrid.
My head turns left and right looking for the leader.
My heart rate accelerates as I realize what a mess I’ve found myself in.
I never leave my loft without at least one blade.
I was distracted. Again.
Sweat trickles down my cheek from the exertion of trying to escape. I wipe it away roughly, unwilling to go down without a fight. I crouch low in a fighting stance, hoping to take them out at their feet.
The roaring starts up again, but I don’t pay it any attention, my focus on the pack. The sounds of heavy feet can be heard breaking branches under their weight. I squint, trying to see what’s headed my way. The current head of the pack seems to decide to bring his attention back to me.
He licks his lips, showcasing a row of razor-sharp teeth. I inhale deeply, trying to remain focused as he stalks toward me. He doesn’t make it far before a massive dog appears through the trees, baring his teeth.
Hellhound.
My eyes go wide at the sight of the beast. Lucifer’s personal pet. If that thing is here, Lucifer’s close by. An alarming shiver runs down my spine. They don’t leave Hell without him.
In a strange turn of events, the beast rips through the pack, tearing them limb from limb.
Sinew and entrails spray everywhere, the forest floor painted in blood, and I’m rooted in place, unable to move.
This is my chance to escape, yet I can’t get my feet and my head on the same page. You can’t outrun a hound.
Hellhounds have one master. They don’t care if you’re on Lucifer’s side or not. They’ll rip through you to get to their target, as witnessed here.
When every last one of the demons is torn apart, the hound turns toward me. It moves slowly in my direction, crouching low and revealing its yellowed teeth, pieces of flesh stuck between the blades.
My stomach rolls and I’m close to spilling its contents on the forest floor. The only way to kill a hellhound is with my divine blade, which is currently MIA. The beast takes off in a sprint, coming right toward me. It prepares to pounce and my eyes close as I fall to my knees.
The expected impact never comes. Body shaking and breath heavy, I open my eyes and twist to see the hound chewing what’s left of the wolf, Magrid, that had been missing from the pack. The hellhound leapt over me to take out a demon?
Hellhounds are the most vicious creatures of Hell. They don’t discriminate when it comes to their victims. Evil, angelic, human—they’re all fair game when the beasts are hungry, and they’re always ravenous. But why had it passed me by to get to the demon?
I stand slowly to my feet, the hound’s eyes never leaving me as it continues to feast on the fallen demon. Carefully, trying to draw little attention to myself, I back up, trying to retreat while the thing’s preoccupied with feeding.
I haven’t gotten far before it’s done, swiping its massive tongue out to wipe the gore from its jowls.
I freeze, not wanting to force the creature to attack prematurely.
The hound freezes, ears perking up. I strain to attempt to hear whatever has its attention, but I hear nothing.
Whatever calls to the beast is for its ears only.
It turns away and runs off into the forest without giving me a second glance.