Despite the growing symphony of the hounds' cries and the ever-growing certainty that we might yet meet our death here, I smiled and held out a hand. He lurched up and clasped it, his fingers so warm compared with mine. Which meant his flames still burned deep inside him and of that, I was glad—if only because it suggested I'd put him back together right.
He climbed slowly to his feet—using me as a stabilizer more than anything else—then looked around. "Do you think the church keeps holy water close by?"
"Most churches do." I saw the simple basin and pedestal sitting near the entrance. "That's probably it."
He followed the line of my finger and nodded, but didn't walk over, moving behind the plain wooden pulpit instead. "Nothing much in the way of cups behind here."
I smiled and forced my feet forward. The scent of death and sulfur was once more beginning to stain the air, and my fingers twitched, wanting a weapon they didn't have.
"I think you'll find the church is canny enough to lock away its valuables in an area like this."
"I meant the paper kind of cup, not the sacred chalice type."
I glanced at him briefly. "What, you thought the priest might have been secretly sucking on a Coke during Sunday service?"
"Well, these days you never know." Amusement laced his tones as he followed me down the aisle, yet I could feel the tension in him, smell the fear. They were as sharp as my own. "Will the church offer any more protection than the cell?"
"I don't know." I hoped so, but I really didn't know enough about the supernatural to say.
The smell of sulfur suddenly intensified, catching in my throat and making both of us cough. The howls of the creatures swirled around us—a force that sent goose bumps fleeing across my skin and caused the temperature in the old church to suddenly plummet. The wooden doors shook, even though nothing had physically hit them.
I gripped one side of the basin and hoped like hell the water had been properly sanctified. It might be our only chance.
Tao gripped the other side, his expression resolute as we stared at the age-stained doors. The hounds stood on the other side. I could feel the heat of them. Smell their anger.
Again, the doors shook. I licked my lips, but I couldn't do much about the dryness in my throat or the trembling in my limbs.
Another crash, then the doors were wrenched open, revealing the two hounds. The smell of their blood mingled with their scent of death and hell and evil, swirling around the inside of the church, somehow darkening it.