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“Nope,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve seen no necklace today.”
I took a bite while they fell into their usual chit-chat. Where had that necklace come from? I would have remembered something so ... flamboyant.
That necklace wasn’t mine for sure.
“Josie?” Mother asked.
“Hmm?”
“Do you want to help me in the garden tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I said, sliding my food around my plate.
A similar chill drafted into the room, raising the hair on my arms, but when I glanced around, no one else seemed to notice it.
Unfortunately, that was only the beginning of my nightmare.
Chapter Five
Kellan
The hellhound’s snarls grew louder the closer he stepped toward me. The blade in my hand felt like a cement brick. I prayed to the Heavens that this deranged dog wouldn’t take me out.
What a way to go, huh?
Death by hellhound in another realm.
I was positive they’d been plucked from the depths of Hell somewhere in time. Hence the name. He jumped forward, snapping at me as if I would run from him. Like most predators, he seemed to enjoy the chase. Part of me wanted to attempt a run toward the nearby field.
Maybe a townsperson would help me off him.
However, leading a hellhound into a village I knew nothing about wasn’t smart. Neither was this journey to The East Realm apparently, but there I was, attempting to save some girl I knew nothing about out of a sick, twisted attempt of revenge for my family.
I jumped forward, slashing my knife toward his face but missing by inches. Almost instantly, he snapped at my wrists, piercing my skin and drawing blood.
I ground my teeth together in pain, slinging him around toward a nearby tree by my wrist; he flew against the trunk and whimpered. His teeth tore into my skin deeper, causing my wound to open. Blood dripped down my wrist, and I cursed myself for letting it happen.
The hellhound circled me, playing out a dance that he and I were currently undergoing in the forest.
He snapped again. This time he missed by inches, so I stuck my knife out and caught him in the shoulder. He backed away, shaking his head back and forth in pain while pawing at the ground.
I weighed my options.
I could hunt him down and kill him.
Or let him go. He wouldn’t mess with me again—most likely.
He howled in pain, this time retreating into the forest. I prayed he wasn’t calling a family of his little hellions to help.
Looking at the spout of blood on my wrist, I went with the latter and began trudging toward the village. He could consider this his lucky day. The old wooden houses were built closely together, with not much coverage in the winter, but these people were survivors.
They made it happen. As people on Earth did decades before things became easier physically.
I shoved my knife back into my boot, wrapped my palm around my wrist, and stalked closer. I needed someone that held an ounce of sympathy to help me.
Music and laughter spilled over the closer I grew to the village.
I rounded the nearest cabin, and a small human crashed into me. The little girl fell backward, shook her head, and jumped to her feet. Dirty blonde hair was stuck to her smudged face.
