Caged by Damnation (25 page)

"Ah, hell. You okay?" Aidan shouted at me from the ledge. He seemed genuinely concerned, but since he was the one who had given me such an agonizing blow, I didn't feel the need to put him at ease.

Wolfe, the Draconian who seemed the most human, held out his hand to help me up. "Dang! Aidan, man, if you're that hungry to kick someone's ass until January, couldn't you have used that stamina on Ryder?"

Ryder squinted at Wolfe. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you can be a pain in the ass sometimes. It wouldn't hurt for you to be kicked in it once in a while." Wolfe laughed, catching Ryder in a headlock and giving him a noogie.

"You're asking for a beating, Wolfe." Nicolai walked into the room, causing the guys to quit their rough housing immediately. Aidan jumped down from the beam, while the Hellhounds remained cautiously silent, appraising everyone.

"We were just having some matches..." Cooper began.

Rafe cut him off. "We're teaching Willow how to fight."

Nicolai's gaze lingered on Rafe. "It looks to me like you're teaching her how to fall."

I chimed in. "They were showing me some moves. I wanted to learn. The falling was my own fault."

The Hellhounds nodded in agreement and Aria backed Rafe's comment with one of her own. "It's okay. We asked for their help."

"In the meantime, we have civilians upstairs, who could be attacked anytime now. From now on, if you want to mess around down here, some have to remain on duty."

Aria looked as if Hell were brandishing a sword through her chest, straining to decapitate Nicolai for his demeaning words. "Of course. Willow and Kali can stay down here. The rest of us will be upstairs, protecting the charges." She nodded and walked from the room with the rest of the pack following.

Nicolai addressed his brothers. "Wolfe, you can stay down here to help out. The rest of you get upstairs,
now
."

The Draconians filed out of the room. Staying back, Aidan nudged my shoulder. "It was a good fight. You have raw potential." He smiled, skipped in reverse, and left with the rest of the Draconians.

Wolfe and Kali remained with pained expressions.

Grabbing a sword from a shelf, Wolfe handed it to me. It was heavier than it looked. "Wow, you really don't know how to fight at all, do you? Don't worry, I'll fix that."

Wolfe and Kali put me through the ringer, causing aches and pains in areas I didn't think
could
hurt. I thought becoming a Hellhound would change me into a lethal amazon, but I was the same old klutzy Willow I had always been.

I was sure that Scrye had been mistaken when she said that my true name was Fury, because it implies skills and emotions that I did not possess. Wimp, clumsy, or inept were more fitting true names for me. I would have to ask Scrye to look again.

Rounding the last stretch of tunnels, I ran directly into Liam and instinctively slammed my fist into his nose. The action was a matter of reflex after training to do just that. I had been so deep in thought that I had begun to walk on autopilot.

"What the hell was that for?" Liam bent back, holding his bleeding nose. His voice was garbled, but I detected anger in it. He was already showing signs of bruising around both of his eyes.

"Sorry!" I reached out to prod the area, wanting to know if I broke anything, but he quickly moved away from my touch.

"Don't touch me." In a gentler voice, Liam said, "I guess you really are turning into a Hellhound, if you've resorted to punching first and asking questions later." He smiled, putting me at ease.

"Nope, still the same Willow. I must be the worst Hellhound ever, and that's saying a lot since they are immortal. I don't feel all that different." Nodding to his nose, I said, "The punch was a reflex since I was just training with Wolfe and Kali."

Liam snorted. "Ow, damn! That was my fault." As if I would think any differently when I hadn't moved a muscle. He held his sleeve his nose and tipped it back. "It's just the idea of a Hellhound
and
a Draconian teaching you together is a little volatile... especially if that Hellhound is Vixen."

It felt weird to be talking one-on-one with Liam. I never knew how to act around him. Technically he had
dated Savannah, but since he was possessed throughout the entire ordeal, was it really dating? Then there was the whole factor that his mother had originally put him up to it to lure Savannah away from us. He was originally worst enemies with Ash since they both wanted the same girl, but were now best friends. Under normal circumstances, I would avoid him, but seeing as this wasn't the usual routine, I didn't have much choice.

"I think they're putting their personal feelings aside for now... wait, you know her true name? How?" I had been under the impression that our Hellhound names were sacred. I hadn't even told Savannah or Izzy. It threw me off, knowing that Liam knew Kali's. Why did he?

"Kali and I have an... um, complicated relationship. She trusts me." Then he dismissed the topic, as though carrying sensitive knowledge was the norm. "Anyways, you can't be
that
bad, as a Hellhound. Besides, the way I understand it, it should take you a while to tap into your real power." He shrugged. "Just give it time."

"I don't feel like I have time..." I grumbled, thinking of the approaching danger. Liam and I stood in awkward silence before parting in opposite directions.

I thought of my new life, changes, and surprisingly, of Death. My domain tender embrace became a succubus, caressing my will and feeding off of it. The sense grew until I was devoid of
me.
A wail burst forth from my lungs, searing and gnawing away at my core. It was as though someone was pouring bleach down my airway. The burning liquid built, expanded and finally, lingered in my womb. The pain collapsed, removing itself and I birthed a bright red orb, the size of a basketball.

As a mother, I looked upon my energy child, as it matured, spreading to the size of a full-grown man and creating a vortex. Too soon, my young was fully grown, beckoning me to walk with it through ages and dimensions.
Eventually we would part, as I reached the Hellhounds’ lair and my child, now an old man, was ready to pass on.

This child was not human, but a specter of life with an expiration date. It had limited purpose and now that it had served its part.  It was ready to be extinguished once it had fulfilled its final purpose as my escort into the Hellhounds lair. I let the cord between us be severed, aching with the absence, and came through the other side of the threshold.

I quickly checked on Nyx, making certain that she was comfortable and well fed. The reason behind my unintentional visit done, I lingered, drawn to the common room. I wasn't anxious to enter reality and the precarious cliff that the lives of my loved ones stood on.

I felt pulled towards Death’s door by the electrically charged air. Embers of light streamed through the slightly open doorways, tempting me with its honeyed essence. Leaning forward to peek through the ajar doors, my curiosity won out against my self-preservation. After all, I doubted the punishment for spying on Death was something I wanted to endure. Besides, he had given me permission to call him by his true name, Kai. That was hardly the name of someone who would consider my actions a capital offense, right?

Death sat in a chair, his head bowed as he looked at the music box I had found on his balcony. My heart contracted when I observed a tear skitter forth and plummet to the surface of the box.

I gasped and Death lifted his gaze to mine. His narrowed as he shot out of his chair, stalking me, while I responded by quickly backing away. His eyes were a blazing hearth, which, compared to the one in the common room, were decidedly more intense.

He approached, revealing a new level to his appearance. His charcoal gray pants displayed a ripped seam and the electric blue cotton shirt was torn to shreds. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, allowing me a glimpse at some grotesque bruising one of his forearms. Noticing my gaze, he immediately unrolled the shirt and crossed to the fireplace to face me.

Though the fire caused lights to dance along the walls and myself, Death's back was to the light, leaving his form obscured. 

Deep with impatience, Death spoke. "What are you doing
here
?"

I moved closer until a single step would result in a collision. "I came to check on Nyx, the Slow Loris
that
Ivy gave me..." My words trailed into nothingness, as I observed his festering wound, slicing across his exposed chest.

He glanced down, as if he had forgotten his injury, and avoided my gaze. "The perks of the job."

Though his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, I wondered if there was more to the angry wound. Grasping the collar, I tore forcefully yet gently to get a better view. "This doesn't look good."

Shouldn't Death, of all beings, be able to heal? The inflamed, puckered skin worried me and countered my inaccurate assumptions. When I pressed the swollen flesh, pus oozed out.

"You need to see a healer or doctor, this is
really bad
."

A forced smile crossed his lips and he closed the shirt to the best of his ability. "It will be fine. The one constant in my life is that I endure against all odds." His voice altered as he spoke, becoming vaguely menacing, but he shrugged it away, banishing all traces of such an emotion.

"Do you at least have a first aid kit?" That sentence earned me a trip to assumed Looneyville, as if I were insane for thinking he might have such humane trinkets of healing. "Never mind, of course you don't. Lucky me, I'm not very good at healing or I would close this right up." I pouted, feeling childish, but irritated with my own limitations.

My pity party must have amused Death, because it resulted in a genuine grin. "It will be gone by morning, I heal quickly. I think you have more important people to take care of."

The urge to scold him grew, but I bit my tongue and sat on the sofa, staring at the writhing flames of the fire. "I thought..." Looking up from the fire, I made sure I had Death's attention. "Aren't Hellhounds supposed to be powerful?" He nodded in assent. "Then why do the others seem just as weak, as I have always been. Other than the freaky thing I did with that snake demon, and running as a pack... I don't feel any different either."

"Snake demon?" Holding up his hand, he signaled to hold back the explanation. He seemed pensive; carefully laying out my questions and sorting through the ways to address them. "Your sisters are weak from the ritual. You won't see their true power for at least a week. As for you, you're an entirely new kind of Hellhound. Rather than being created, you were born with a soul. You won't learn your capabilities until you have matured, and to do that, you need to accept your Hellhound nature. It calls to you, yet you ignore it or don't hear it yet. You are my Fury. When you and her become one, you'll become who you were always meant to be."

"Give it time and I will become this
Fury
that is supposed to be who I really am? Oh, I'm furious, but not in the way you mean for me to be. I'm a weakling!" I snorted in disbelief, considering fleeing from this confrontation, but I had engaged it. I could sense the tightness in my skin, as it tingled in the way it always did before I cried.

Death sank into the cushion beside me. "You are not weak." He caressed the side of my face, lingering at my temple before gently turning it to face him. "
You are not weak!
" He repeated. "Your strength comes from your soul, and I envy you for it. Think of yourself as a newborn child. They aren't born with the ability to do much in the beginning, but the potential to age into someone great is within them."

"I don't want to wait. My friends need me
now
."

He sighed, clearly exasperated with my insistence. "Things like this don't happen overnight. Look at Savannah and Izzy, they're growing more powerful each day." I remained stoic and Death grunted in defeat. "There is
one
way to change
now
. You won't like it."

Throwing myself into his arms, I nearly knocked him off the sofa. Then I pulled back to look at him with my arms still locked around his neck and me still half seated on his lap. "What is it?"

"Come with me."

CHAPTER 18

Savannah's Journal

My life was filled with misery, impacted by actions and consequences outside of my reach. It seemed that destiny or fate was always a few steps ahead. That I would never regain enough ground to take back control of my life.

My world was at a pivotal point, as it was changing course, trying to find its way through a darkened hedge maze. While I had to navigate, choosing to turn or continue on, inevitably my choices were opposed by another's design. The lush greenery continued to dispute my decisions in such a way that I couldn't ignore.

My visions made all of this clear to me, as they were often incapacitating. What role would I play in the ultimate game of life and death? Willow and Izzy each had roles to carry out in the coming days. What those roles would be was lost to me. I could only hope that my own destiny didn't smother theirs or worse, destroy them.

SAVANNAH

It seemed that Nicolai was right when he accused me of cowardice. I had betrayed my loved ones by locking myself away, even if I hadn't intended to chain myself to my box. Worse than that, without my box intact, I still cowered in the shadows, afraid to seek out the warmth of others. My thoughts were overrun by fear of rejection, accusations, and reality in its most simplistic of forms.

I had been standing outside of Griffin's room for well over an hour now. Beyond the steel door lay uncertainty and being someone who craved control made it nearly impossible for me to take the last step.

What would I say to him?
Hey, Griffin. I know we nearly died and all, but look at the amazing accommodations that the Draconians have provided.
I groaned, forcing myself to open Griffin's door.

"It's about time! I was beginning to think that everyone lied to me and you really did die back there." Griffin smiled as he pushed himself against his pillows into a sitting position.

Griffin seemed better off than the last time I saw him, but his face was still a pasty white, as if he hadn't regained enough blood to flush out his cheeks. Considering that the last time I had seen him, we were lying beside one another while dying... I supposed that this was a vast improvement. A smiling Griffin was preferable to one who might take his last breath at any moment.

All traces of happiness evaporated from his features when he moved once more to adjust the blankets around him.

"Didn't they heal you?"

Griffin grimaced. "They did, but only enough to be sure I would live. The rest is up to my body." He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he expected such behavior and there wasn't anything wrong with it.

"Well, they fully healed me." I grunted, irritated with our so-called protectors. "I'm going to have a word with them about this. You shouldn't have to be in pain while I am walking around without even a scar."

Griffin made some room for me to sit beside him on his bed.

"Did anyone tell you that they are planning to separate us if we're attacked?" He nodded. "It's so unfair." I looked down at my hands clasped firmly together. "I'm the one they want. The rest of you shouldn't have to deal with... with any of this!" Anger was beginning to get the better of me. "Wouldn't it make more sense to just send
me
away? Then everyone else can go home." A slight whimpering claimed my throat; Kit had broken through a bit, letting me know that he too was sad.

"I hate to tell you this, but we're all guilty by association. They would use us to get to you or kill us as
payback." As he spoke, Griffin’s voice got lighter and lighter, until he descended into a coughing fit.

I ran quickly into the adjoining bathroom and filled a paper cup with some water, which he took gratefully.

"Well, at least everyone is paired up with a loved one." False cheerfulness cloaked itself in my voice.

"Except you." Griffin settled his cup on the bedside table and leaned back to view me, but his eyes were heavy and soon they closed.

I was shocked to see how weak Griffin really was. One conversation and a coughing fit was enough to make sleep inevitable.

Leaving him to his rest, I carefully left his room, closing the door behind me and praying that it didn't creak. All of my energies were so focused on not waking Griffin up, that when I turned, it was too late to avoid colliding with Rafe.

I skidded across the ground, but didn't remain there for long before he had captured me around the waist and set me on my feet. I attempted to apologize, but he shrugged it away. Then he turned on his heels with such purpose that I wondered if the entire ordeal had been his fault.

He seemed distracted, which was strange, because from what I knew of him, he was quick with a smile and a joke. I hadn't seen him like this before, and yet, I admitted there were a lot of things to weigh on his mind now that his people were basically becoming bodyguards.

I bit my inner cheek, debating going after him to make sure he was okay. Looking down, I saw an aged envelope lying on the floor. Instinctively, my fingers began to worry at the Seraphinite ring I had worn since Maye had given it to me. Somehow, throughout everything, I had forgotten I still wore it, and that bothered me. How could I forget something that literally stared me in the face every day? 

Stooping down, I snatched the envelope. My instincts were correct; this was the envelope Maye had given me.
Why was it here? I had placed it in the pocket of the robe I had been wearing during the attack, but then why hadn't the Draconians given it to me when they had taken my bloodstained robe?

I was fueled with too many questions and didn't like most of the answers I had come up with. Still, there wasn't any reason for the Draconians to withhold my letter... was there? I shook my head, as if the action could banish my paranoia.

The envelope was inscribed with two words: My Child. If the letter were about the trauma of giving me up, I would have thought that the envelope would swell with regrets. Instead, it was thin, barely suggesting a message was inside. Did that mean that the contents within would hold a gentle rejection? I doubted Maye would have given it to me if she thought it would hurt me.

As I had been considering the ramifications of reading the letter, I found that old habits had kicked in. Controlled memories of natural pathways I would normally follow when stressed had taken over. Inevitably, those paths lead to Ash, which is why I ended up standing outside his room within the cottage.

I could hear Wolfe and Cooper mocking one another in the distance. Down the hall, light shined into the hallway from the room Isis had chosen as her own. I was tempted to change my mind, avoid Ash and deal with the letter on my own, but then I would be creating yet another barrier between us.

Would my life ever take a route that wasn't tracked by strife, pain, and demons? Likely, if I ever managed to find such peace, I would die of shock or boredom. This constant battle had become an integral part of
me
.

I am Savannah Cross, an ever-struggling teen with the fate of the world awaiting my condemnation or deliverance. I am the girl who awakens each morning without knowing
if I was evil masquerading, or good, destined to be pursued for the rest of my days.

I wasn't sure I was worth the trust that so many had placed with me, or if I wanted it. I had been born straddling too many worlds; each with a hold that wouldn't let up. I worried that one day it would result in my limbs being torn in opposing directions, leaving me a husk, dried up from too much survival and not enough choices.

I needed to take back control to avoid becoming a puppet for someone else's will. My decisions had a weight to them that they hadn't before. Sure, I might mean the end of the world, but as Nicolai had pointed out, I may be its savior.

Steeling myself, I gazed at the walnut-colored doorway. The world on Ash's side seemed frozen compared to the strident one on my own. He wasn't humming the way I had grown used to, nor was he anxiously pacing in the way that reminded me that I wasn't alone.

The room seemed
empty
; devoid of Ash's natural behavior that had always comforted me. Then again, this wasn't
his
room. It was a temporary resting place that could give the illusion of home, but never spark the knowledge of unproven safety or quiet calmness deep within one's soul.

Bracing myself, I twisted the doorknob, stifling feelings of impending doom. "Ash?" I peered around the door to find him walking from the bathroom.

My breath caught at the sight of him. Though he wore jeans, it was obvious that he had just taken a shower. Droplets of water crystallized against his sun-kissed skin. Ash paused from drying his hair with a bath towel. Slicking the dripping locks away from his face, his eyes drew me inward. Beads of water slipped against the shadowed paths his muscles left, causing me to suck in a sharp breath at the sight.

Suddenly, Ash cleared his throat, knocking me from my stupor. "S, you okay?" He crossed the room to place his
hands on my shoulders in what was meant to be a worried embrace, but only made the situation worse for me.

"Uh..." Why was I here? Oh yeah, to find the courage to read a letter from a mother I had never known. It was
not
to gawk at Ash's nude torso or to imagine what it would feel like, if I reached out to catch the beads of water pooling in some decidedly tempting areas.

I handed Ash the envelope, slightly crushed from anxiously kneading it with my palm. "Maye gave me this. It's the letter from my mother. I don't want to read it alone." I shrugged, waiting for a reaction. It was getting more difficult to force my gaze to fasten on anything besides him. Why did he have to stand so close?

Sighing, I spoke in a helpless tone that sounded as if my inner child were speaking. "I want to read it, but not alone. I don't know what to expect from it."

Ash raised his right eyebrow; a dark arc that distracted me from my uncertainties. He allowed an amused grin to break forth from the side of his mouth. That grin matched with that artfully raised eyebrow were so distinctly Ash, that I was immediately comforted.

Ash leaned in to me, his arm reaching past my waist and ascending higher without touching me. I thought he was going to trap me in a blazing kiss that would cripple me in ecstasy. Instead, he moved away, his hand holding a long black sleeved shirt. As he pulled it on, I turned to see the hook on the door behind me, realizing that he had merely been trying to get dressed.

Ash gave a short laugh, shaking his head, and I realized that the awkwardness that had descended upon us since Asmodeus... was completely gone. Somewhere between the battle and now, we had healed. I started to point it out, but realized that verbally acknowledging it might bring it back tenfold.

"Figures, battling an army of demons doesn't faze you, but opening a 16-year-old letter leaves you wanting me to hold your hand." He tossed it into the bed, using his eyes to ask if he should be the one to read it.

I hesitated. Did I really want to take the easy road and allow him to read it aloud? If it hurt me in the end, would I begin to associate those painful sentences with Ash? I shuddered at the though and resigned myself to reading the letter myself.

"I'm going to read it, but could you just sit with me? It would help."

Ash's eyes glistened and he motioned towards the yellow envelope, echoing implications of what could happen, should we sit on that bed; what it could lead to. I was about to protest when I realized that the mattress was the only seating available.

"I guess they couldn't spare some chairs for you, huh?" Laughing, I tried to ease the tension.

"Until now, I didn't have much reason for more than a bed." Ash sighed. "I could stay standing if it would make you feel better.  I mean, we used to be able to sit on the same bed together, but I guess it's too awkward now," he said, more for himself than my wellbeing. "You keep saying that you want to go back to the way things used to be, that you miss me..." He leaned forward, searching my eyes. "That will never happen if something as small as sitting on a bed fazes you."

"I do, but I thought you said it would never be the same between us. Anyway, it was just a joke." As I eased into the mattress, I crossed my legs Indian-style, feeling as though the childlike position might bar the sensation that the air had been stolen from my lungs.

Ash sat and turned towards me so that his body was parallel with each side of the bed, facing the headboard. "S..." He scrubbed at his face, as if his palms could remove his frustration or wash away the uncertainty in his moss-colored gaze. "You almost died. Hell, we all did." His hand waved, pointing at the empty space of the room, as if it
were filled with our loved ones. "I wouldn't have forgiven myself if my petty words were last things I said to you."

I didn't want our relationship to end on a sour note either, and there was definitely a chance that one or both of us might die during this whole ordeal, but part of me agreed with some of the things he had said lately. "You're right about us not being able to go back to the way things were." I shrugged. "We can't erase everything that's happened." I looked away, hating that I was echoing the hurtful words he had once spoken to me.

Ash reached out, gently maneuvering my face until it was level with his. "No, but we don't have to let those things control us. For good or bad, you're worth it. A wise girl once told me that this is the way it's supposed to be when you love someone." A crooked smile, the one I adored, spread across his face. "Caring about someone isn't logical; it's selfless, because having them as a part of your life is worth anything."