“Son of a bitch!” Rian cursed aloud. Pacing the floor as he tried to calm down, his thoughts were chaotic. His panic was rising. If that bastard had hurt her again…
“Rian. Rian!” Kellan yelled into his mind cutting off Rian’s next thought, then stepped in front of the Dragon Leader and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Calm down. You’re spinning out. Nothing’s changed.”
“Nothing’s changed? How the hell has nothing changed?”
Rian tried to slide past to continue pacing and thinking, but the scarred dragon simply stepped in front of him again and this time, he looked pissed.
“You still gonna save your mate?”
“Hell yeah.”
“You still gonna save Kayne?”
“Yes, Kell. What’s with the twenty questions?” Rian was getting angrier by the minute.
“Not twenty, two, and they prove nothing’s changed. We’re still here to do a job and that’s what we’re gonna do. So pull your oversized head out of your ass and lead this group.”
Without another word, Kellan returned to where he’d been standing beside Declan at the back of the group and acted as if nothing had happened. Rian knew Kellan was right, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t embarrassing to have his brethren hand him his ass for the second time in as many days.
The silence in the room was almost as annoying as everyone staring at him was. Ignoring the thoughts his brethren weren’t even trying to block, the Dragon Leader took a deep breath and forged ahead. “Sorry…again. As usual, Kell’s right. Time to go.” Looking to Brannoc he asked, “You get the info you needed from Kyra to find Audrey?”
“I did. We’re good to go,” Brannoc answered while rolling up his maps and stuffing them into his backpack.
“All right, you heard the man. Let’s head out.” Rian motioned for Brannoc to take the lead. As planned, the Guardsmen spread out on both sides of the dilapidated asphalt that at one time had been a road.
They walked for three blocks before turning west then another two blocks before turning into the eeriest graveyard Rian had ever seen. It was straight out of an Alfred Hitchcock movie, complete with broken headstones, disrupted graves, and crying stone angels outside crumbling mausoleums.
“I know I’m gonna get bitch-slapped for this, but why is there a cemetery in hell? I mean, aren’t these people dead when they get here?” Rory asked from the back of their formation.
“You’re right…” Lennox snorted.
“See?” Rory butted in with pride in his voice.
“You’re gonna get bitch-slapped.” The whole group chuckled at Lennox’s comment.
Ignoring his youngest brother but promising both himself and his dragon to kick his butt later, Rian commanded, “Look alive, people. There’s a shitload of hiding places in this creep show.”
Brannoc raised his fist—the military signal for stop—looked over his shoulder at Rian, and pointed ahead. “The entrance to the lower levels is inside the chapel just ahead.”
A single nod and Rian barked, “You heard the man. Heads up.”
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. His dragon’s growl—a low, continuous rumble of anger with their present situation—rolled around and around in his head. Rian spread his enhanced senses as far as they could go, and could feel his brethren doing the same thing, all making sure no one and nothing could sneak up on them.
Outside the chapel, the two lines of Guardsmen split, one going left, the other right, leaving Brannoc and Rian to watch the front door. One by one, his brethren called in their okay. Mere seconds later, all but Maddox and Kellan had returned.
“Where are you?” Rian snarled.
“Going through the back door, kid. See you at the altar,” Maddox answered, completely ignoring Rian’s frustration.
Deciding it was not a battle he was willing to fight, Rian ignored his oldest friend and said, “Watch yourselves. We’re going in.”
Carefully pushing open the one remaining door attached by a single hinge with the end of his broadsword, Rian held his breath as the scent of mold, mildew, rot, and raw sewage assaulted his senses. The Dragon Leader could only imagine what had caused such a stench and thanked the Heavens for his enhanced senses so he didn’t step in it.
The wooden floor groaned under the weight of the eleven huge men as they slowly approached the pulpit at the front of the sanctuary. Brannoc stepped up on the podium, immediately kneeling and searching for the symbol Calysta had told them would be carved into the floorboard just about the entrance to the Lower Realms of hell.
Counting to sixty while listening to the sounds of the group’s navigator brushing dirt, debris, and only the Heavens knew what else from the floor in search of the glyph, Rian listened to the thoughts of his brethren. They all agreed that something was up. It had been way easier than any of them had imagined…too easy.
It wasn’t that he doubted his abilities or those of his brethren; it was the simple fact that they were in hell, about to go up against Satan’s right hand man, and not a soul had so much as said boo to them. Except for the insects roaming every available inch of the landscape, they hadn’t seen anyone at all.
