Terrik

I opened my eyes to darkness.

The stench of rotted wood and long-dead beings filled my nose. Movement sounded within the walls around me, and the hairs lifted on the back of my neck.

I’d fallen. The memory of doing so teased along the edges of my mind.

A rumble came up from my throat.

My pulse kicked up hard. I dragged myself to my feet as a chill wind whistled down the empty mine shaft.

No. Not empty. I felt them closing in, heard them slithering through the narrow tunnel.

Red eyes glowed, moving closer.

I blinked and allowed my wolf vision to take over, bringing the shapes into focus.

Demons.

They shuffled closer, a small army of the underworld that no doubt hoped to surround me. Many walked on two legs and had human-like faces—except for those ridged brows and curling horns—and varying skin colors.

A demon with leathery green skin and stubby wings protruding from his back motioned at the others. His forked tongue darted out, tasting the air, and he hissed, his eldritch language harsh and unyielding.

“Take him.”

Tension gathered throughout my body, snapping my spine straight and curling my hands into fists. Like hell I’d allow them to take me anywhere.

Energy sparked in my veins, that familiar heat flooding my system.

The demons at the front of the pack hesitated, then shifted their gazes to the green-skinned leader. He hissed with increasing fervor.

Water dripped from overhead and trickled down the back of my neck. I ignored the shudder caused by the trailing drop to grin wide at them, widening my stance, my body poised for battle.

I knew how this would end. The same way it always did, of course, with me walking away and the demons left in smoldering piles.

Let them return to the depths of Hell where they belonged.

A squat demon with thick legs approached first; he waved a heavy club, making a clumsy swing for my midsection. I just stepped back and pivoted, kicking out with one leg to land a solid blow on his chest, and the demon staggered back, grunting.

They rushed me then, furious that I’d dared to encroach upon their den. I didn’t bother telling them that I’d fallen in by accident—any day I got to destroy demons was a good day, after all.

I flicked my fingers, and sparks of white lightning danced across my palms.

The leader released another deep hiss, snapping his wings out in agitation.

I directed my lightning at him first. The air sizzled and sparked, and then a bolt shot from my hand to hit him square in the chest. He crumpled into a heap, unconscious.

I didn’t want him dead. Not yet. I needed him to answer my questions once this was finished.

With him out of the way—without a leader to direct them—the demons fell into chaos.

They surged forward, limbs swinging in every direction, their crude weapons getting lobbed at my head. I ducked low and came up swinging—my fist connected with soft flesh and plunged through.

I grimaced at the squish of pulp, but still forged ahead.

Lightning filled the mine shaft, and the lesser demons fell in a single wave.

Before the others could rally, I closed my eyes and muttered a quick chant. Heaviness grounded my limbs and built into an inferno of heat in my chest. I reached out my hand and closed it into a fist. When I opened it again, the felled demons rose, then moved to stand between me and their companions.

“Necromancy.”

A tall, angular demon with a body shaped like a scorpion uttered that single word before charging at the row protecting me.

Hisses and chittering surrounded me. The demons’ displeasure drew a smile out of me.

I grinned at them with bared teeth as I flicked another bolt amid their ranks, making them scatter like cockroaches. I cackled a dark laugh and stalked forward, the lesser demons moving with me, held in thrall by my powers.

I needed time between each use of lightning and necromancy, unfortunately. I wasn’t impervious to injury, but I’d spent years honing my skills against the underworld’s underbelly.

I swung out with a right cross that caught a horned demon full in the face. His head snapped back, the bones cracking, and after that, he crumpled.

Smatcalth demons—brutes to look at, but with incredibly tender spines.

A second smatcalth approached from my left. He wore armor, unlike his unfortunate friend; a thick collar circled his neck, protecting the vulnerable bones, while a helmet covered his head and eyes but left his mouth and chin exposed.

I crooked my finger at him, the universal “come and get me” move that drove his kind into a frenzy.

He swung a rusty battle-ax at my head. I leaned back, the air stirring in the space where I’d just been, my long hair fluttering in the breeze it created.

I snapped up straight and grabbed his armored chestplate. “What are you doing down here?” I ground their harsh language through my vocal cords, the movement unnatural but familiar.

He barked a laugh. His wide lips twisted in a pleased grimace. “Dead.”

“Yes. You are.”

I touched my finger to the exposed flesh under his helmet.

He shuddered, fanged teeth clacking together. I pushed him away and moved to the next threat.

They’d rallied while I toyed with the smatcalth. Several came at me in a rush, battle cries mingling with grunts.

I pulled all my lightning into a frenetic ball and pushed it out in a wide arc. It flooded the tunnel with light, hit the metal railings once used to move minecarts, and bounced around like a wolf pup excited for an adventure.

The demons screamed and attempted to scuttle away. The lightning caught them, dropping them to the dirt floor in heaps of scorched hide and bone.

Within the tunnel, whispers and grunts warned me of more demons coming. I wiped a trail of sweat from my brow and focused.

The rhythmic pounding of footsteps sounded too methodical. I knew that those coming were not the rag-tag dregs I’d been facing, but the real threat.

I called the dead to me. Pulling them from the depths was like holding the strings of a dozen puppets; they tethered themselves to my mind, each one a dark cord I controlled with a single thought, all following simple orders.

I told them to protect me at all costs, and they moved into ranks that blocked the approaching army of militant demons.

I knew them before I saw them—abrelsmn. They were thick-scaled monstrosities, and hard to kill.

Hard, but not impossible.

The army broke through my ranks, heaving bodies aside left and right.

I let them come. What awaited them at the end of this battle was better than they deserved.

I gathered my strength in wait, all the while orchestrating a flanking maneuver with my puppets around the abrelsmn demons. I proceeded to toy with the abrelsmn to wear them down, make them easier to control, until they answered my questions and I finally released them unto death.

My puppets closed in, harrying the demons into a tight group. I released another bolt, felling all but three. The ones I would keep alive.

“Bring them to me. Unharmed,” I ordered a bevy of puppets, then released the rest.

The snap of their dead strings uncoiled the tension from my neck and shoulders. I hated holding them—not because it was unnatural to have the ability, but because the feeling of them against my mind ignited pain in my soul.

I was not supposed to be this way.

I was a wolf, not a demon puppeteer.

My remaining puppets dragged the three abrelsmn and that green-skinned leader of the first wave to me. They dropped them at my feet and started to bow, whereupon I waved my hand to let them free.

Death surrounded me. It was nothing new.

I crouched, balancing on the balls of my feet. “Why are you here?” I asked them all.

The leader just spat a glob of slimy green mucus onto my boots.

I punched him, hard and fast, splitting the skin over his ridged brow and releasing a torrent of brackish blood. His face twisted in a snarl; he tried to rise, but I touched my index finger to his chest and zapped him with a current.

He shuddered and quaked, his body growing rigid as it spasmed, but he didn’t die. Not yet, at least.

I took my time eyeing the other demons.

They watched me in turn. They knew their fate—I saw so in their bloodthirsty eyes.

“Tell me what I want to know,” I said, increasing the current, “and you die quickly.”

One demon’s head cracked against the metal rail with a sickening thud.

I unleashed a sick smile that Leo always said made me look like a monster.

Thinking of Leo sent sudden pain lancing through my chest. I eyed the demons, releasing the full fury of my anger. “Keep hesitating, and you die slowly.”

It had the desired effect. An abrelsmn lifted his head but kept his gaze averted, showing subservience. “Big raid,” he stated simply.

“Where?” I ground out the word between clenched teeth, which was hard to do with their guttural language.

He shook his head. “Not say.”

“Then you have nothing left to offer me.”

I killed him with a flick of a finger. His eyes rolled back, and he fell.

The three remaining demons hissed and clicked.

Furious energy gripped me. I hauled the leader up by the edges of his tattered leather coat—a hint of wolf wafting off of him—shook him hard enough to make his brain rattle, then tossed him aside and moved to the next.

This demon was smaller than the others; not a child, but not an Elder. He was probably what would be considered middle-aged in their kind, like I was in mine.

I had no sympathy for who he was, though. I needed information.

“Where was the raid?” I demanded.

He swallowed hard, looked over his shoulder, then started to shake his head.

I pulled him close enough to see the thin sliver of white that cut across his neck. It was an old wound—he’d lived through many battles, but he would not survive me. No demon ever would, and they all knew as much.

He knew he was dead no matter what, so why would he bother telling me what I wanted to know?

Hell. Where was the resident braggart? That was the type of demon I needed.

I had to try something different here. I lowered my voice to ask, “Are you ashamed? Did you lose, and that’s why no one will talk?”

He snapped his gaze to mine. Red burned in the depths, the fires of Hell showing under the heavy lids.

“We win. Many wolves dead,” he snarled, spitting at me. “Even female leader.”

He snapped clawed fingers and waved them on either side of my head. “Dead. So many dead. Made Dromoss hungry.”

Then, he licked his lips.

Ice filled my veins. “Which pack?”

Dromoss cackled a demonic laugh of darkness that promised pain. “Deep Water.”

No.

“Liar.” I zapped him hard enough that he bit into his lying, forked tongue. “You lie.”

My heart thundered. It couldn’t be true. Not them.

Dromoss used that split second of my panic to attack. His claws angled toward my neck, intent on slicing through me to remove my head from my shoulders.

It took less than a second to kill him, less than a thought. In a blink, he melted in my hands, the stench of dead demon assaulting my nostrils.

I shoved what was left of him away and took a step back, the remaining demons dying with another wave of my hand.

Exhaustion dragged heavy hands down my body. I needed to recover from the excessive use of my powers, but… there was no time.

Female leader. That could only mean one thing.

It was time for me to go home.