Fated for Her Wolves - Tara West Page 0,2
a mother cradling her child. It took hours for them to reach their destination. By then, Balban’s wings screamed in agony, but she didn’t dare complain. They stood on a cliff overlooking the pit, an ocean of endless fiery waves. The roar of the great inferno drowned out the cries of the damned as they climbed over one another in a futile attempt to escape, knocked back by winged demons and crushed by molten giants.
Balban couldn’t be rid of this place soon enough.
Sitri pulled a familiar crystal out of his pocket and held it in a tight grip.
Balban’s jaw dropped. “You found another crystal.” The last time they’d escaped the pit, he’d bribed a gatekeeper into using her crystal to free them. Actually, he’d cut off her hand and wouldn’t return it until she revealed the crystal and recited the spell to open the portal. Crystals weren’t easy to find, as they were concealed by spells using dark magic.
“I did, and it only took me a hundred years.” He chuckled. “My clever Katarina sniffed one out for me.”
“Do you remember the spell to unlock it?” she asked, flame racing up her scales when he laughed at her.
Holding the crystal in his palm, Sitri repeated the spell the gatekeeper had mumbled hundreds of years ago, and in an instant, a thunderclap rent the air and a dark tunnel swirling with mist opened. Unholy screeches filled Balban’s skull; a swarm of winged demons were flying in their direction.
“Shall we take them with us?” she asked, thinking dozens of demons would come in handy should they need help fighting the wolf gods.
“Don’t be stupid!” he snapped. “The shadow gods will hear them.” Holding a finger to his lips, he raised a curved weapon that resembled a dragon talon and walked into the portal with his wolf whore beside him. Balban hurried after them, then Sitri recited another spell to close the portal. She threw one last glance over her shoulder at the dozens of demons racing toward them with claws outstretched, their faces masks of panic as the portal closed. Had she a soul, Balban would’ve felt sorry for the damned they’d left behind, but she felt nothing for the wretches, save for a smug satisfaction that she wasn’t one of them.
She hurried after Sitri, reminding herself to stay focused on her survival, and hoping he’d set aside his revenge and choose instead to be satisfied with life in a beautiful, wealthy vessel. Maybe they could steal American celebrity skins and spend the next dozen years partying and fucking. That certainly beat the alternative, which was getting caught and cast back into hell. All she had to do was convince Sitri to let go of his grudge—a task, she feared, that would prove impossible.
WHERE ARE WE GOING? Balban asked as she floated after Sitri and Katarina, her wings tucked behind her, her paws morphed into wisps as they dangled beneath her. She was nothing more than spirit in the human world until she could find a suitable host. She had to find a body before hell’s gatekeepers discovered their escape and dragged them back. Luckily, the moon was full, which gave them more time. Full moons brought out all kinds of spirits and ghouls, keeping the gatekeepers busy, but once it waned, those spirits would slink back into their holes and Balban and her companions would be more vulnerable to capture.
A heavy, frigid mist drenched her and snow flurries raked the ground. They certainly had escaped hell, unless it had frozen over. In which case the apocalypse was upon them, and they were all fucked.
Humans wrapped up in face coverings and heavy coats gave them a wide berth while crossing the narrow, darkened street. Had they seen them, or did they only feel their ominous presence? They were in a seedy neighborhood of some sort, for she sensed the decay of sewage buried under a filthy layer of snow. Though the buildings were rundown hovels with mismatched shutters and cracks in the walls, there were bright lights, and she scented warm bodies and heavy perfume in the direction of the thumping music at the end of the block.
A man and woman crossed the street behind them, swearing in Russian. She recognized the language, for she’d been part of the revolution over a hundred years earlier. She and Sitri had feasted on the violence and murder, hopping from one aristocrat’s body to the next, fucking and drinking and enjoying one last ura! before leaving