Night of the Tiger (Hades' Carnival) (2 page)

She was in some sort of underground cave, her steps leading her downward when what she most wanted to do was turn around and bolt back to where she’d come from. She longed to feel the sunlight on her face and smell the fresh air filling her lungs. Still, she could not go back. Not until she’d done what she was supposed to do.

A sense of
knowing
came from somewhere inside her. If she didn’t do this now, it would be even worse for her the next time. If she showed any reluctance, the demons would fall on her like a pack of rabid dogs on a chunk of prime meat. She didn’t question her instincts, but went with them, taking a cautious step forward.

The air grew thicker and hotter with each step, harder to breathe. The stench of rotted flesh and death grew more stifling with each passing second. A crash of thunder shook the walls, sending a shower of rocks tumbling to the dirt path in front of her.

A stone bounced off the wall and smashed into her forehead. Aimee stumbled but didn’t fall. Slivers of rock bit into her bare feet as she staggered slightly before catching herself. Locking her knees, she somehow managed to remain upright. Something trickled down her right temple. She reached up and touched her face, frowning when her fingers encountered something sticky and warm. She was bleeding.

Swiping the blood away with her palm, she prayed the wound wasn’t too bad. She had nothing to clean or bandage it with. And there was no help to be found with the denizens of this cavern. She knew they were waiting for her to falter. If she showed any sign of weakness, they would attack.

Something hissed low and long in the darkness. It was a voice, but it wasn’t even vaguely human. Whatever it was, it sounded as though it was whispering her name. She ignored the stink of fear and sweat that permeated her flesh and the sense of foreboding swamping her senses. She ignored the frantic pounding of her heart and the fact her nightgown was plastered to her body like a second skin. She ignored the pain in her feet and head. There was nothing else she could do. Tilting up her chin, she moved forward.

She knew where she was, but didn’t want to say the word aloud. Didn’t dare to. Didn’t even want to think it.

As if someone or something had been reading her thoughts, a deep, compelling voice emanated from the darkness. “Welcome to Hell.”

Aimee froze. She wanted to turn. Wanted to run. Wanted to be anywhere but where she was. But her limbs were frozen in place. All she could do was blink as the owner of the voice came nearer. His feet made no sound on the rocks, but she knew he was getting closer. The air stirred in front of her. Dust tickled her nose.

A wave of pure, unadulterated evil suddenly struck her, sucking the air from her lungs. She’d thought she was as afraid as a person could get. She’d been wrong. Terror swamped her in waves, threatening to drown her. The strong stink of sulfur stung her nostrils and coated the back of her throat.

The other creatures in the darkness shrank back from whoever, whatever, was moving forward. She tried to swallow, but her mouth and throat were bone dry.

Aimee closed her eyes briefly.
Bad analogy. Don’t think about bones
. Her eyes shot open again as the hideous creatures surrounding her stirred and crept closer with excitement now. If they were excited, it couldn’t be good for her. She wanted to run, but her limbs refused to cooperate. Her brain and body were disconnected. All she could do was watch and wait and pray.

Flames flickered, seemingly in thin air, before jumping to life all around her. It took her a moment to realize that some of the demonic creatures had lit torches. The light swelled, filling the cavern. There was no longer any darkness to hide the reality of her situation, nothing to blanket or soften her fears.

She watched, both terrified and fascinated, as he glided toward her. It was definitely male, this creature that stalked her from the stygian depths of this cursed place. Power and evil combined in a formidable package. The man was simply gorgeous, so physically perfect he defied the laws of nature. There was something inherently wrong with that. Evil should be ugly.

He threw back his head and laughed, and the deep, seductive sound filled the air. The movement sent his glossy black hair tumbling down his back. His jawline was strong, his nose straight, his cheekbones high. He was tall, so very tall. And strong. Dark leather pants molded to his thighs and calves. His chest was bare, revealing rock-hard abs and smooth, tanned skin.

He looked at her then, and her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were as black as the night. No, they
were
night. The ultimate darkness from which there is no escape. There was no kindness there, no shadow of mercy. Only cunning and power and expectation.

Reaching out, he tucked one finger under her chin and lifted it higher for his inspection. Her skin burned, scorched by his touch, and she cried out in spite of her resolve to be brave. His thin lips turned up at the corners into a cruel smile. “You’ll do.”

A cacophony of noise erupted around her. A wolf howled, a lion snarled and a bear growled. Other animals joined in, their cries and calls echoing in her ears. Above them all came the roar of a tortured tiger.

Aimee slapped her hands over her ears, desperately trying to block out the yowls of anger and pain that clawed their way to the very depths of her soul, beseeching her to help them. The cries were filled with anguish, but worst of all, with hopelessness.

Somehow, she knew these noble beasts weren’t here in Hell. They were out there somewhere in the world, locked in some kind of unending torture. And she knew who was responsible for their suffering—the man standing before her—Hades, King of the Underworld.

Aimee suddenly realized she’d moved her hands. She was no longer frozen in place. Somehow, the lament of the beasts had broken the spell she’d been under. Not taking her eyes off the devil in front of her, she lowered her hands from her ears and took a step backward. Something crunched beneath her foot, but she didn’t look down, telling herself it was stone, not bits of bone from others who had been lured to this place.

She had to escape.

He smiled at her, sweeping out his arms to encompass the creatures around him. “There is no escape, sweet Aimee. Unless I allow it.” His taunting smile had anger bubbling up inside her, shoving aside some of the fear surrounding her.

He wouldn’t allow
. This was
her
dream.
Hers
. She was in control here.

Like Dorothy in the Land of Oz, she closed her eyes and concentrated on being tucked safely back in her bed. She even thought about clicking her heels together even though she was barefoot and there wasn’t a pair of ruby slippers in sight. Everything went silent and she breathed a sigh of relief before opening her eyes again.

She screamed. Or rather she tried to. Sheer terror tightened her vocal cords, making her scream sound more like the squeak of a mouse. And that’s what she felt like—a small, brown mouse in the presence of a great, hungry cat.

Hades’ cruel smile mocked her attempt to escape. He leaned forward, his breath hot on her face. “This isn’t Oz, and you most certainly aren’t Dorothy.”

Oh, crap, he can read my thoughts.
There was no other way he could have known about her
Wizard of Oz
reference. No wonder he’d laughed when she’d thought that evil should be ugly. He knew exactly what he looked like.

He brushed his finger over her jaw and down her neck, leaving a sizzling brand on her flesh as he went. She flinched, but didn’t cry out.

“So brave.” Lowering his hand, he studied her. “How much courage will you have when the beast comes for you? Will you trade your life for his?”

“What beast?” She hadn’t meant to ask, but the question was past her lips before she could stop it.

Hades shrugged. “Who knows? Only you can decide that. You hold the fate of the beast in your hands.” He wrapped his fingers around hers, squeezing tight. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying. His touch burned. A whisper of singed flesh assailed her nostrils. “Such small hands. Weak.”

Cruel pleasure lit his dark eyes. “You will be the new lady of the beast, at least for one of them.” He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. It was filled with a cruel expectation that froze her from the inside out. Even the demons ringed around them shrank back at the sound.

“I don’t understand.” There was something important happening here. Something she needed to know. She gave herself a mental shake, dismissing the thought. The only thing she needed to be concerned about at this moment was getting out of this nightmare.

“That’s right,” he crooned as he released her fingers. She pulled her stinging hands close to her chest, cradling them there as he continued. “You just have to worry about yourself. Serve up the beast to save yourself, and everything will be just fine.” Hades leaned down and stared directly into her eyes.

Flames jumped in the depths of his pupils. Or maybe it was his irises. His eyes were so black it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Aimee could see her death reflected there.

It was a horrible, never-ending torture. Her flesh burned from her body, only to regenerate and burn yet again. Over and over, it went on for all eternity. She could smell her scorched skin, hear the sizzle of her hair before it went up in smoke, feel the flames eating her internal organs and continuing on all the way to her bones until all that was left was ash.

“That’s right,” he whispered in her ear like a lover, his hot breath searing the delicate skin. “That is your fate if you don’t give me what I want.” He took a step back and glared down at her. “Don’t disappoint me.”

The air thickened, becoming too hot to breathe. Aimee coughed and began to choke as it filled her lungs. Her head swam and she fell to her knees. Her vision dimmed. Voices filled her head, promising torture and death. She had to get up. She couldn’t stay here. She didn’t belong in this antechamber of Hell.

Desperately, she pushed herself up, only to stumble and fall again. Her hand skidded on the damp earth and her face hit the ground. It was less stifling here, the air not quite so hot. She dug her fingers into the cool dirt and hauled herself forward. It was only a few inches, but it was a start.

It would be so easy to lay her head down on the ground, to just give in to the forces surrounding her, to accept her fate. She could hear the hiss of voices behind her encouraging her to quit fighting, to accept the inevitable.

But Aimee had never been a quitter, and she saw no reason to start now.

Anger washed over her in waves. How dare they do this to her? How dare
he
do this to her? She wouldn’t even say his name, not even in her mind. She sensed that to do so would give him even more power over her, and she needed whatever edge she could get.

She dug her fingers into the ground and pulled with all her might, ignoring the burning in her lungs and the fatigue seeping into her muscles. Her thin gown was no match for the rough ground beneath her. Fabric tore as rocks and debris dug into her tender skin.

Not that way
.

Aimee stilled. The voice was feminine and light. Kind. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. This was a trick. It had to be.

No trick. Follow my voice
.

Even though she didn’t fully trust the voice, she turned toward it. Any chance of escape was better than none. Immediately, a draft of fresh air struck her face. She sucked in a huge breath. The air was sweet. Clean. Adrenaline rushed through Aimee’s veins as she sensed the way out. Grabbing the nearest rock, she hauled herself to her knees.

The demons watched her from their various perches, their eyes glowing with anticipation and hunger. Some clung to stones, others sat in crevices, while two hung from the ceiling, saliva dripping from six-inch fangs.

Why didn’t they attack her?

They can’t. You are the key
.

The key? The key to what?

Hurry!

The voice sounded worried, and that was all the impetus Aimee needed to get moving. Digging deep, she found the last vestiges of her strength and pushed to her feet, stumbling forward. She could see the light at the end of the tunnel. See her body still lying in her bed. She raced toward it.

The chant of the demons swelled behind her, almost shoving her onward. She gathered the last of her strength and leapt toward the light, propelling herself forward. Her feet left the ground in a rush and she fell, her body plummeting downward, air racing around her limbs.

Aimee screamed.

She bolted upright in bed, her cry of terror echoing off the walls of her bedroom. Lightning flashed, and for a brief second she thought she saw a pair of red eyes staring at her from the corner of her room by the open window.

Frantic, she scrambled for the lamp on her nightstand. She smacked the base, almost knocking it over. Swearing under her breath, she fumbled with the switch and finally managed to turn it on. The room was suddenly bathed in a soft glow that drove back the shadows.

“It was just a dream,” she assured herself. “Nothing more than a dream. You’ve had them before.”

That was nothing less than the truth. What she didn’t want to admit to herself was they were getting worse, more realistic each time she had one. It was as though she’d been having the same one for months. It just kept expanding, getting longer and more detailed each time she had it.