Page 17

CHAPTER 16

W hen your commander orders you to go, you go.

I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I put my trust in him. He hasn’t betrayed me so far. Besides, I have never seen him so amped up or certain. We have to move fast and find whatever this is before the other hunters arrive.

It’s probably a rogue vamp or something he wants me to save, and after checking the phone with the coordinates, I shove it in the bag with my weapons and arm myself before glancing at the fae and Ronan. “Let’s hunt.”

We make our way back down and out of the tunnel. Once in the forest, I pull out the phone and check the coordinates once more. “It’s close. That’s why everyone was alerted. It will take some time for the teams to form and set out, so we have a good head start, and I know a shortcut.” I smirk as I glance at the fae. “Feel free to stay back if you want to.”

“And miss bloodshed and death?” The wicked glint in his eyes grows. “Never.”

“Fine, but stay out of my way,” I order as I lift my bag higher and take off into the trees at a sprint. Shamus is right. We need to move fast if we want to save whoever this is.

Ronan floats at my side, and the fae simply appears before me every few feet. I sprint as hard as I can through familiar trails and over fallen logs, moving deeper into the forest.

Thirty minutes later, I come to a stop and drop my bag. After double-checking the coordinates, I zip up the bag, throw it over my shoulder again, and withdraw two blades. I have no idea what is in the cave, but I can never be too careful.

The opening is small and innocuous, just a black cave, one of hundreds around here, but there was an alert for a reason.

There are no tracks or signs of life, and I cannot taste any magic or see any blood. Stopping at the entrance, I place my hand on the thick stone and close my eyes.

Nothing.

Nothing has touched this or been through here in a very long time.

“I can sense something,” the fae comments casually.

“What?” I ask as I open my eyes.

He shrugs, totally unbothered. “Something ancient and powerful.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” I mutter. Ancient? What could be hiding out so close to Stalkers’ Rest and be ancient? And why would Shamus send me here, so confident I needed to be here? It makes no sense, but there’s no point in dwelling on it. I turn on the torch attached to the strap on my shoulder and duck into the cave without another word.

There is only one way to find out what’s inside, and that’s to look.

I keep my back to the cave wall as we move farther into the darkness, so that nothing can jump out at me. Stones crunch under my feet, and when I shine my light down, I realise it’s not just stones, but bones as well. Whatever is here is a predator and a meat eater. I don’t think these animals wandered in recently because the bones look old.

I move softly and slowly, taking my time. The light from outside soon fades, and the only way I can see is by the glow of my torch. My feet start to tilt, and I realise we are heading down.

After walking what feels like forever, we break out into a larger part of the cavern system. Unlike the fae cavern we found ourselves in, I have nothing but a bad feeling about this one.

There is nothing. The walls are smooth, as if worn by time or something else. The floor is covered in a deep, rusty sand that doesn’t match any place around here, and I feel and see nothing else, bar ten ancient stone pillars placed within the sand to form a shape, and upon the top of each is an object.

Rolling my lips in, I search for threats, but there is nothing. I move forward, first one foot and then the other, and wait. When nothing springs out or attacks us, I slowly make my way to the closest pillar, eyeing the vase that stands on top. It’s coated in thick dust, letting me know it’s been here a while. There’s a small crack down one side, intersecting, hand-painted art depicting a yawning chasm overspilling with blood and a clawed hand reaching from within. I lift my hand and gently touch the dusty surface.

Gasping, I jerk my hand away, scrubbing it on my leg.

“What is it?” Ronan asks. “This place is seriously creepy, even for a ghost.”

“These are blood relics,” I murmur as I glance around, realisation setting in. The tales I read from our manuals flood back—manuals Shamus made me read—and I realise who we are after. “Oh fuck, Shamus sent us here after the ancient blood tempest.”

Shamus didn’t want me to save them. He wanted me to tame them, the fool.

There is no taming a tempest.

There is only death.

“I thought they were all dead,” Ronan whispers, looking terrified.

“No, not dead, dormant. They were deemed too evil to control, and we just walked right into its prison and rang the fucking dinner bell,” I tell him as I glance back at them, opening my mouth to order them to retreat, but the surface under our feet shifts.

“It’s awake.”

The sand parts to create a passageway to a maze, the little tunnel carved throughout as if by magic. As I leap back to avoid it, one of the podiums starts to shake, and the blood vase topples from the tip, crashing into the sand. It splinters and cracks, and as I watch with wide-eyed fascination and horror, blood seeps from the vessel and into the maze below. It flows swiftly through the carvings in the sand, filling the maze and staining it red. Suddenly, the crust beneath our feet begins to shake, and I leap back out of the circle just as the earth rips open.

A chasm forms in the circle where I once stood, the yawning darkness leading down.

I share a look with Ronan and the fae before I look deeper in, seeing crudely carved stairs leading down into the abyss. The bloody sand slowly falls into the chasm, and an echoing groan can be heard from below.

“You know what? That doesn’t sound good. How about we head back and eat ice cream or fuck instead? That sounds a whole lot more fun than whatever creep show is waiting in the ancient hole,” Ronan mutters.

“I do like being eaten,” I joke, and they both turn to gape at me.

“Was that a joke?” Ronan actually stumbles—well, floats backwards. “I am rubbing off on you. Wait, that’s what she said. In all seriousness, do we have to go into the creepy hole?”

Grinning, I face forward and put my foot on the first step. When it doesn’t crumple, I stomp down, testing each one as I go.

“I guess that’s a yes. Why can’t we just not chase monsters into the dark for one day and maybe go to a fair or something?” I hear Ronan mutter behind us.

“For someone who has faced death, you are very scared,” the fae observes, and I glance back to see him wandering behind me, looking around without a care in the world.

“Not scared of death, just concerned a very normal amount about whatever creature needs to be trapped underground with a blood circle. In this case, you are both the weirdos,” Ronan snaps.

I share a look with the fae and shrug. “He could be right.” I look back at the steps leading down, and when I put my boot on the next one, it crumbles and falls away. I topple forward, ready to plummet, when arms wrap around me and yank me back. I hit a solid chest, and when I tip my head back, I meet the fae’s mocking gaze.

“Every time I have to save you, it will cost you,” he murmurs as he leans down and nips my ear. “Remember that, though I do think you like paying the cost, if my memory serves.”

Rolling my eyes, I shove him backwards and glance down at the two missing steps. I lean back then throw myself forward, landing at least five steps farther down. Without checking to see if they follow, I continue down the winding staircase. It gets narrower the deeper we go, until it’s only wide enough for half of one foot and I have to keep my hand on the wall to my left to keep my balance. Eventually, it gets so narrow that I sigh and stop, sick of this shit.

“This is wasting time,” I mutter. “We need to be gone before the hunters arrive. Let’s just jump down and see.”

“How do we test if it’s waiting to kill us?” the fae murmurs, peering over the edge into the dark. He doesn’t appear afraid, more like excited.

“Like this,” I reply as I kick his chest and watch as his eyes widen in shock as he falls backwards into the dark. A moment later, there is a thud and a groan. “Well? Have you been torn apart and eaten yet?”

There’s a moment of silence. “No, but you are going to be, hunter.”

“Did you really just try to kill him? I mean, I’m all on board with that plan, but let me know so we can get our stories straight,” Ronan mutters.

“He wouldn’t die, just be in a lot of pain, and he’d probably like it,” I reply and leap off the edge, counting the drop like I did with him. I land a story down, bending my knees to absorb the impact.

A hand wraps around my throat, and I’m slammed back into the side of the stairs, forcing a grunt from my lungs. I do not fight back, but I do slip a blade free and press it against his groin in warning.

“That wasn’t very nice, huntress,” he hisses, his eyes shining in the dark.

“You didn’t die, did you?” I retort, pushing the blade in deeper. “But if you try to kill me, I’ll take your precious manhood with me, and we both know you like it a lot.”

“I can grow it back.” He smirks. “You’d still be dead.”

“And you’d be left mad and hungry again,” I counter.

He leans in, his eyes on me as his mouth almost touches mine. “You will pay for this later.”

“I cannot wait,” I hiss, refusing to back down.

“Erm, when you two are done flirting, maybe we can deal with that,” Ronan whispers.

“With that?” we snap, following his gaze as we untangle ourselves. The shining orb Ronan is pointing at flickers out of existence, only to reappear again, and this time there are two.

They are floating in the air.

“Eyes,” I whisper just as something snakes around my ankle and tears me across the cave. I do not scream, but I do pull another dagger.

I bend so I can reach my feet, then I slam a blade into whatever is holding me. There’s a roar of pain, and I am lifted into the air. I hit something hard, my head bouncing from it, and for a moment I cannot see. Blinking to clear my vision, I crouch, holding a knife in each hand. If I’m right and this is a tempest, then the knives won’t do much, but it will piss it off.

You need him. Shamus’s words float in my head.

Why did he send me here?

Tempests cannot be reasoned with. They consume and kill. They are darkness and death.

Something huge slides in the shadows before me, obscuring my view of Ronan and the fae. An audible sniff fills the air, and a thick, garbled voice comes from the shadows. “Your blood smells ancient. What are you?”

“Human,” I mutter as I strain my eyes, trying to make out the shape. It moves closer, so I step back, pressing deeper into a maze of tunnels leading from the pit, but I do not have much choice.

“Not entirely,” the voice says, followed by another sniff.

Ignoring that, I narrow my eyes as I continue stepping back to avoid the shadows. “What’s with the sniffing thing? Do I smell or something?” I ask nervously.

“Delicious. You smell delicious,” it growls.

“Lovely,” I mutter as I back up, the shadowy shape advancing on me like smoke but more corporeal. Is this a tempest’s true form? I don’t know much, but what I’ve read about them are legends and myths. They are not around much for anyone to figure out, and I’m not sure I will make it out to confirm what there is.

“Tate?” Ronan shouts, and the shape stills and turns, ready to head to them, so I try to draw its gaze back to me.

“Hey, tempest.” It doesn’t work, and the shadow moves fast to the fae and Ronan.

It seems intrigued by me and annoyed by them.

I do the only thing I can think of and draw my blade across my exposed forearm. The audible moan shakes the foundations of where we are, and I am suddenly slammed back into a wall of the tunnel.

The tempest’s shadowy shape reappears, Ronan and the fae forgotten.

Something wet and warm drags along the wound—a tongue.

It’s tasting me.

Gritting my teeth against the foreign yet not unpleasant feeling, I peer into the shadow. “I am not here to kill you.”

“You are a hunter.” The voice is sharp against my skin.

“I am, but I’m not here to hunt you,” I admit, and the tongue slowly drags up my arm and across my shoulder then face. I turn my head away, but something within the shadow grips my cheek and turns it back, lapping at my lips.

“Truth,” it hisses. “But they after you are.”

“Yes,” I answer without shame. “My commander thinks you will be useful in my hunt.”

“I follow no one,” it responds from the shadows. “I am a god.”

“I do not need you to follow me, just work with me.”

“In exchange for what?” The tongue drags across my cheek and down, sliding beneath my clothes. I slap at the shadows, but my hands are pinned to the wall as it continues its journey, shoving deeper into my clothes.

For fuck’s sake, why are all monsters perverts?

I shiver as it traces the tips of my breasts.

“What do you want?” I ask, my voice even, which makes me proud.

The tongue stops for a moment, and I hesitate. “Freedom, I want my freedom. I have been trapped here for too long, only able to feed on what wanders in and send out remnants of my magic.”

“Which alerted us,” I muse. “If I grant you your freedom, what will you do?”

“Clever little hunter.” It chuckles and withdraws. “Why don’t you find out? If you want my help, then you must earn it.”

It lets me go, and I frown, unsure what it means.

The shadows seem to thicken, and when I don’t move, it comes closer until I have no choice but to turn and wander deeper into the labyrinth behind me. The tunnels are carved from stone, and the light is so dim, I can barely see. I choose tunnels at random, but when I pick wrong, the shadows move before me, blocking my way and turning me the way it wants.

It’s leading me, and without much choice, I let it.

The air around me grows warm and humid as I walk. I’m sweating, and my muscles ache as though I’ve wading through water and not air. Suddenly, the tunnel opens up into a peaked archway made from stone. There is writing above it I cannot read or understand.

Well, I guess I’m heading into the creepy archway, right?

Taking a deep breath, I step through it, feeling a barrier slide across me. I shudder and hair rises on my arms, but I’m through.

Darkness surrounds me on the other side, and I turn, straining to see when flames burst to life, making me jerk back. They burn in huge basins at least three times taller than me, the flames licking at stone walls, and I turn as more burst to life around the huge chamber, filling it with an orange glow and even more warmth.

It seems to keep the shadow at bay, and when I turn, the glowing eyes peer at me from beyond the arched doorway, as if blocked.

The shadow stills and forms a limb, and it points up. Turning, I see what it gestured at.

It’s a person suspended between heptagonal columns at the end of the room. Stepping closer, I crane my neck to look up.

The being is chained in the air above me.

He looks like a man.

The chain tightly crisscrosses his bare skin, causing his muscles to bulge. More hold him up by the neck, and another is across his mouth, gagging him.

Part of me pities him. Imagine being trapped like that for centuries for simply being who you are. Did anyone ever give this monster a chance?

Maybe that’s why Shamus sent me here

I guess that proves one of the legends right. Tempests have the ability to project themselves.

“You were leading me here. Why?” I ask of the shadows as I glance back. “Is this you?”

“Yes,” it hisses. “I am trapped. You must be strong enough to free me.”

I glance back and step towards one of the columns, placing my hand on it.

My head falls back with a gasp, my eyes closing as my body jerks with power and understanding.

I rip myself away, panting as I glance from the shadow to the man. The knowledge I just stole runs through me.

To free him, I must replace those chains with my own.

Understanding dawns. A tempest needs a master. It needs someone to control it or it will go mad with power.

Shamus thought I could tame it, control it, and become its master.

What it said is true. It doesn’t want to follow someone . . .

It wants to be owned by somebody.