Hellbound Warrior: (Dark Warrior Alliance Book Five) Read online

  “Doiteain,” they chanted together. The candles and incense ignited and the witches knelt before the altar. Suvi and Isis grabbed Pema’s waist as she reached into the bowl of water and invoked the element of water.

  Relaxing into a meditative state, Pema plunged two fingers into the water and swirled in a clockwise motion. Repeating this four times, the sisters began chanting in unison, “Let the water reveal to me the location of the Cave of Cruachan. Let the water show me where it is. So mote it be.”

  On completion of the fourth time, the lights in the room flickered and the water clouded over then cleared to reveal a small cement tunnel in a creepy-looking forest. The cement had brightly-painted graffiti and the trees and groundcover were barren. Rhys had seen some evil shit in his life, and the vision of the tunnel screamed sinister to him. He shuddered as a dark sense of foreboding filled the room. The image disappeared and the word Sensabaugh took its place.

  The triplets raised their heads and Rhys saw the confusion and unease that he was feeling reflected on their expressions. They swiped their hands over the water and it returned to the placid clear liquid it had been. Thankfully, the malignant atmosphere disappeared alongside it.

  At that moment, Rhys’ stomach dropped to his feet, his previous hope diminishing. They had a location, all that was left was a spell to trap Lucifer and he was going to have to leave for wherever Sensabaugh was.

  “Thank you for getting the location. I know that was taxing, but we have more work to do and doona have time to waste. This has suddenly become verra fucking real. Every second Lucifer has the Goddess’ necklace is one too many. Cade, look up Sensabaugh and get the information we need while the Rowans set up for the binding spell,” Zander ordered, wrapping Elsie in his arms as she eased her way from behind him. The sound of typing echoed as the witches cleared the altar and set up for the next step. The energy in the room was even grimmer, making his heart and mind race, trying to remember everything he’d forced out over a hundred years before. He needed to recall every detail he could about the Nine Circles of Hell.

  It was ironic that the worst moments of his life now held the key to saving the world.

  “The portal to the Cave of Cruachan is in Tennessee,” Cade called out as he eyed the laptop in front of him. Rhys had come to appreciate having Cade and his twin, Caell, around.

  The two vampires had been transferred from New Orleans to Seattle recently. With all the new matings in the compound and the fact that Seattle had been targeted heavily by the archdemons, they had needed the extra help, and the new Dark Warriors had proven to be invaluable.

  What was in Tennessee that attracted such evil energy to the area, Rhys wondered. Whatever was there, Rhys could guarantee that it had to be a vile place for the portal to choose the site.

  “The lore behind the place is horrendous. Rumor has it that it’s been the sight of grisly murders, deaths and satanic rituals. And, get this, demonic apparitions have been sighted in and around the tunnel,” Cade continued as he leaned back in his chair.

  Pema sat forward and placed a black candle where the bowl had been. Suvi held two vials and Isis had a rope in her hand. “Turn off the lights, please. Breslin, can you light the candles in the room? And, be prepared to extinguish them when I signal you.” Pema asked. The Vampire Princess had the ability to control fire and her twin brother, Bhric, manipulated water.

  In an instant, the lights were out and the candles were flickering. Isis placed the rope behind the lit candle while Suvi poured the contents of both vials into Pema’s outstretched hands. Rhys noticed that one of the vials held water and the other dirt. Pema mixed the contents of her palm together with her free fingers and then held it before the candle. She closed her eyes before pulling in a breath and blowing the combined mixture through the flame, extinguishing it. There had to be an element of magic used to propel the mud that far.

  The mud flew onto candle and rope as Pema and her sisters chanted, “Per elementum ego tardus vos.”

  Suvi picked up a flashlight and turned it on, pointing it at the rope and then the trio continued their chant, “Per lux lucis ego caecus vos.”

  The light went out and Pema called out, “Now Breslin.” And with those words, the room plunged into darkness. Rhys’ eyes quickly adjusted and he noticed that Pema was tying a small piece of twine to the rope and then the chanting resumed. “Per obscurum ego redimio vos.”

  “It’s done,” Pema announced and the lights came back on. “Cover the rope in the soil of Hell as soon as you cross into the realm and then all you need to do is make this rope touch Lucifer and say the word, ceangailteach. That should keep him bound to Hell. Of course, we can’t guarantee anything. Usually the spell we just performed is done with a personal belonging or a photograph, but since that isn’t possible, we spelled the rope to act as a conduit for the magic.”

  “This is the one time I can tell you to go to Hell and you have to do it,” Dante teased Rhys. The Cambion Lord’s nervousness was obvious.

  Rhys chuckled, “Grab your gasoline underwear, bro. You’re riding shotgun.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Glancing around the clearing, a shiver crept down Rhys’ spine as the wailing continued. It didn’t help that it was balls-fucking-cold outside on top of the menacing atmosphere. Evil permeated every inch of the surrounding area, down to the soil.

  The site was bigger than he’d have guessed based on the image in the scrying bowl. The ground was barren beneath the snow, and he wondered if the trees bloomed or if groundcover grew in the spring, or if the taint of the cave had poisoned the land.

  “What the ever-loving hell is that?” he asked his fellow cambions.

  Dante’s blue eyes scanned the surrounding forest, blade in hand as he responded, “I’d say they are the souls trapped inside the tunnel fueling the portal to Hell.”

  “Lore says that thousands of humans have been sacrificed at this site which will likely power this entranceway for centuries,” Kellen explained. Kellen, a Tennessee Dark Warrior and fellow cambion, was the third leg of this mission and, if by looking at the male, a total badass. Kellen’s breath puffed out from his thick black beard as he spoke. Between his beard, the gauges in his ears, and his baldhead, he was intimidating as hell. “The worst were the babies. The humans had no idea what they were unleashing by using the site like they did. We felt the dark magic every time there was a murder here, but like always, we stayed out of human affairs. I regret that now because, as a result, we’ve got the entrance to Hell in our backyard.”

  Rhys clapped Kellen on the back. “Perhaps there is a cleansing spell in the Mystik Grimoire. We will ask Jace when we get back,” Rhys offered, understanding how he must feel. They had enough trouble in Seattle without adding to it.

  Kellen cocked an eyebrow, giving him a look of if we get back as he adjusted his bulky backpack. Rhys knew the odds were against them, but he’d be damned if he gave up hope. Hope was the one advantage he’d have in Hell, and he planned on using it to his advantage. It was a weapon he would gladly use against the demons.

  “Ready? I’m dying to say hi to my dad,” Rhys quipped, nerves prickling under his skin. It was now or never and while Rhys would prefer never, that wasn’t a choice.

  Dante chuckled, “I’m hoping my mom is long dead by now. I’m sure she was pissed after dad sent her back to the underworld. With luck, Asmodeus, that three-headed freak, put us all out of our misery and killed her for good.”

  Rhys eyed his Lord, thinking about what he’d said. Most cambions didn’t like their incubus or succubus parent because of their demonic tendencies. A full sex-demon was a cruel creature that didn’t care for anything except his or her pleasure, not even their children. It wasn’t uncommon for them to harm other beings so long as their needs were met.

  Cambions were unique in the supernatural world. They were the only ones who could procreate without their Fated Mate and many cambions were created from an act of force and violence.

  The thr
ee of them trudged over the frozen ground and entered the tunnel. The second they crossed the entrance, Rhys felt the Cave of Cruachan recognize their demon blood and grant them the admittance needed to the Underworld. Without demon blood, it would have been an ordinary walk through a tunnel, albeit a frightful one. As it was, it felt like walking through wet cement, every cell in Rhys’ body objecting. Between one step and the next, they were staring at Cerberus’ three faces. Well, make that his legs since the beast towered over them.

  The danger the creature posed should have been foremost in Rhys’ mind, but the way his inner beast stretched awake and went on alert took front seat for a split second. Rhys may have hated his time with his father, but his inner beast reveled in it and felt at home.

  “Shit,” Dante cursed, drawing a sgian dubh from the back of his waistband of his black leathers. Blue eyes sharp, Dante’s lean figure was ready to attack when the opportunity arose.

  Cerberus guarded the Gate to Hell, ensuring no one escaped. The real question was if he would stop them from entering. Rhys shared a knowing look with Dante and Kellen. Each of them had spent time in the Underworld and had escaped it somehow to return to earth. The problem with that was the three-headed dog didn’t forget a scent and would no doubt remember them.

  The enormous hellhound immediately growled and snapped its jaws at the warriors. Rhys took off running, sliding along the grass, blades out, trying to sneak through its legs. He managed to cut a path along its front leg, infuriating the creature.

  One of its heads never left Rhys’ form, but when Dante and Kellen made a rush for it, the dog halted and leapt over the three of them, turning at the last minute. Now they were trapped between the gate to Limbo and Cerberus, leaving them no way back to earth.

  The creature slowly stalked forward, forcing them to walk backwards. When his back hit the cold metal of the huge barrier, Rhys flinched. Without missing a beat, Cerberus lifted one huge paw and pressed it to the gate. It swung open and Rhys fell onto unhallowed ground. His palms hit the soft grass of the endless green fields of Limbo.

  “Fuck, I never wanted to see that castle again,” Kellen muttered, brushing off his pants.

  “True that. I barely made it past the censors when I left here a hundred years ago,” Rhys replied, watching Cerberus smile and use his paw to shut the barrier.

  The loud clang sealed their fates. Rhys had expected a bigger fight from the guard-dog, but realized the beast only needed to eliminate their option to leave to get its revenge. What awaited them from this point on was far worse than anything the dog could ever do to them.

  “I don’t remember there being so many doors,” Kellen observed, putting his weapon in a side pocket of his pack. “Which one should we try?”

  Blinking to adjust his vision, Rhys had forgotten the darkness of the Underworld. There was no moon or sun to illuminate their way. He wasn’t entirely certain what cast the odd, muted glow that permeated Hell.

  Focusing on the barely visible castle in the distance, Rhys contemplated their options. “It won’t be the door of chastity. We are the antithesis of chaste. But, we are diligent in our pursuit of pleasure,” Rhys waggled his eyebrows comically.

  Dante rolled his eyes and said, “Remember, they represent the seven virtues, not the seven deadly sins, so I don’t think that will count, Rhys. But, we are diligent in our vow to the Goddess.”

  “So, what you’re saying is we’re screwed. We might as well set up shop here,” Rhys countered as he contemplated their choices.

  “Don’t give up now, we’ve got a long way to go,” Dante encouraged, heading forward.

  “Don’t worry, I’m right behind you,” Rhys responded, following the male. Rhys sheathed his weapon on his belt as they quickly and quietly crossed the field.

  It was eerie to see the castle in the distance with the Andras patrolling the ramparts. There was no escaping the censors of Limbo once they caught your scent. It was their job to bring every soul who deserved judgment before Aamon.

  Rhys eyes the Andras with its head of a demented bird and body that was close to a human’s, with arms and legs. Like most creatures in Hell, the Andras’ skin didn’t hold the tan or peach of those on earth, but was black and leathery instead. They also had wings that enabled them to chase down souls trying to escape.

  “Before we try the door,” Dante said, pausing by the castle, “we need to use the spray the Rowan’s gave us. Otherwise, this will be a very short trip for us. Didn’t they say it would mask our scent and enable us to get past the Andras?”

  Rhys slipped his pack off his back and retrieved the bottle from inside, holding it up. “Yes, and thank the Goddess those witches came into power. They’ve been great allies. Two sprays, one in front of your face and one behind your head,” Rhys explained, holding the bottle.

  “Let’s get this shit done. There’s no way out but forward,” Dante said, closing his eyes and holding his arms out to his sides.

  Rhys sprayed him and Kellen then Dante took the potion, dousing Rhys, as well. Once sprayed from head to toe, Rhys crossed his fingers as Dante reached out for the nob in the middle of the large wooden door.

  Dante glanced over his shoulder and twisted. Rhys was shocked when they were granted ingress into the castle. Entering from the side, they silently maneuvered their way down a surprisingly ornate hall. Fancy tables were strategically placed every few feet. Rhys cocked his head at the porcelain statues of various higher-level demons and candelabras that adorned the tops. He didn’t recall seeing the detailed decorations when he’d been fleeing a hundred years earlier, but that had been the last thing on his mind.

  It could be a trick of his memory, but he expected to see cobwebs and dust and mold everywhere rather than the pristine castle they traversed. The sight of the female souls walking around with dusters and other cleaning equipment explained why the place was so immaculate. Question was whether they had been there before or if this was a new addition.

  “Aamon runs a tight ship, and manages to keep out the dregs. It’s actually pretty fucking impressive,” Rhys observed.

  “This is the first level and the place where other souls are judged. It shouldn’t be too hard to keep the place looking nice when there’s nothing that attracts lesser demons. The other circles have more temptations to offer. I imagine none of the lesser demons want to be that close to Cerberus, either,” Dante suggested as they passed two buxom females.

  Rhys paused and smiled at them, making them blush. They must be slaves because they weren’t the incorporeal souls that were typical in Limbo. Glancing around he noticed there were plenty of those who had obviously passed on and were awaiting judgment, but these flesh and bones females had clearly been taken hostage.

  Kellen suddenly jerked Rhys into a side room as an Andras walked down the hall. Rhys pressed his body flat against the wall and waited to see if the spray actually worked. Heart hammering in his chest, the creature paused, flared its nostrils for a breathtaking second then moved on.

  Exhaling the breath he’d been holding, Rhys wiped sweat from his brow. “Thank the Goddess that spray worked. I could kiss those witches right now,” he whispered.

  Peering around the corner, Rhys noticed the two females were also plastered against the wall in the hall. “Is it clear?” he asked them.

  Their eyes flared and they looked up and down the hall then nodded their heads. “Where’s your collar?” one female whispered.

  Rhys followed her hand to the clutched silver collar that was wrapped around her neck. It was a slave collar that kept them bound to their owners. Slaves couldn’t travel between levels of hell, and would suffer great pain if they tried to escape. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go that wasn’t worse than where they already were.

  “We’re warriors sent by the Goddess. Have you heard anything about Lucifer escaping his prison?” Rhys asked, hoping any rumors would have made their way to this first level.

  Both females paled considerably, shaking their heads.
“Lucifer is going to escape?” one asked, her voice trembling. Rhys understood their fear. Lucifer was capable of horrendous evil.

  Kellen reached out and squeezed her hand, letting some of his cambion-born ability to mentally manipulate leak through. Typically, cambions would coerce females into sex, but he was trying to calm her. “No, we are going to stop him. What’s the fastest way to the Second Circle?” Kellen asked.

  The female pointed down the hall. “Go right at the end of the hall and then take the first left and then the second right. There will be doors leading to the gardens. The entrance is through the ivy-covered trellis,” she explained.

  Kellen leaned down and kissed her cheek, “Thank you.” Kellen towered over the small female, appearing more menacing, if that was possible. Rhys had to laugh. No doubt they looked like a group of thugs, dressed in black from head to toe. Black leather pants, black leather jacket, black boots and black t-shirt.

  Making their way quickly to the doors leading to the gardens, they had to dodge Aamon when they saw his snake tail rounding a corner. Rhys wondered what kinds of demons bred to make him. He had a small owl’s head and the fore body of a wolf with the tail of a snake. An odd combination to be sure, but he had the gift of hind and foresight if he touched you. They had to avoid him at all costs, or their little foray was going to be cut short. He would no doubt turn them over to Lucifer to gain favor with the Lord of the Underworld.

  They hadn’t encountered too many of the damned as they traveled through the castle, but looking out into the garden, they saw hundreds, if not, thousands of souls waiting for judgment. The Andras flew above the group and would occasionally swoop down and grab hold of some poor being. Their screams were blood-curdling, but Rhys steeled his reaction, knowing the situations were only going to get worse the deeper they traveled into Hell. Still, the sound made him sick to his stomach.