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He shrugged, candid. “Temptation’s the easy way, Lena. That’s why it works. If magic were a helltrick, I believe the demons would’ve made it a damn sight easier.”
Was he mocking me? Or apologizing for being such an asshole back in the day? I fidgeted. “Guess so. Look, I’m sorry we never…”
My hex charm sizzled, and I let out a startled yell and hurled my knife at his foot.
The hairless hyena-thing howled and tumbled, blood spurting from its pale rump, and its ugly jaws snapped shut inches from Ethan’s ankle.
Ethan leapt, and was on his feet before the knife thunked back into my palm.
I’d missed the killing shot. The hyena-thing was only wounded, and it grinned evilly at me with a hoarse, chuckling sound. Below us, a pack of its mates tittered and started to climb. The thing cackled—nyi-hi-hi!—and dug its claws into the rubble, ready to jump.
Ethan slashed at it, but it dodged and leapt at me, slavering. I threw again, shouting a whetting spell that curled my nails and set my teeth on edge, and this time the spell-sharpened blade speared right between the thing’s glassy red eyes into its brain.
Mr. Chuckles flipped in midair, its momentum reversed by my throw, and hit the rocks like a sack of sniggering hellshit. Blood exploded, running down the rocks, and the chortling pack leapt on the body and tore it to pieces.
I flexed my wrist, and my knife landed in my palm, dripping rotten blood. Ethan gave me a surprised glance. “Thanks.”
He looked impressed. That was a first. I shoved him, flushing. “Dinner doesn’t look like it’ll go around. Get moving.”
He leapt, and landed lightly on the other side of the chasm.
Twelve feet. Sure, I can make it. Just don’t look down.
I jumped, and landed with somewhat less grace. Behind us, flesh ripped, and Mr. Chuckles’s new dinner companions grunted and laughed in triumph. Bwa-ha-ha, I just ate my brother, and he tasted fiiine!
I picked myself up and dusted off my grazed knees. Ethan steadied me, and we hurried on, weapons drawn, picking our way between rocks, over razor glass shards, around rusted steel girders twisted by the heat. As we neared the tower, the helljungle noises grew louder. Burning buildings smoked and collapsed by the side of the road. Creatures sprinted through the streets, ignoring us or hurling ripe curses that blistered my skin. Some just sat by the road and howled, and their anguish stained the heat-warped air with bitter ash.
But Ethan wasn’t letting me off easy. “I mean it,” he murmured, his keen gaze checking left and right. “Nice job. I didn’t even hear that thing coming.”
He looked sheepish, and I squirmed. I didn’t want to tell him that I hadn’t either, that the only reason I’d noticed was my stolen hex pendant giving me the red-hot-poker treatment. That I’d been too busy daydreaming about his eyes to pay attention. “Don’t sound so surprised. What are those hyena-things, anyway?”
“Imps, hellslaves, wrathmites. Call ’em what you want.”
A big, naked, hairy dude with raw pustules rotting his skin swung his scythe at us, blood and worms splashing from his mouth as he screamed. I ducked and slashed at his kidneys, and Ethan took him down and sidestepped as the head hit the concrete and broke open. The scythe clattered harmlessly away.
“That’s a nice razorcharm you used before,” Ethan persisted, as if we hadn’t been interrupted. “You been practicing?”
Yeah, right. I’d stolen that one, too, a couple of wing-splinters I pilfered from a drunken glassfairy.
It disturbed me how much I wanted to lie, and I snorted to cover my unease. “C’mon, you know me better than that.”
“Thought I did.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He flashed me that smile. “That you’re still a puzzle, Lena Falco. I just haven’t solved you yet.”
I frowned. Enigmatic equals good, right? Or not? Shit. Who am I trying to impress, anyway?
Still, I edged closer to him, my guts tightening. The tower’s shadow darkened the street like a smoke pall. Heat scorched me deep, and it was sure getting crowded around here. Rotting creatures shambled like shopping-mall zombies. Others—the normal people, dazed and bleeding, mostly naked, mouths slack with terror—screamed and fled. Guess they were new here. Still others stalked in packs, agile and twisted, their mutated bodies sprouting scales or feathers or extra limbs. And everywhere, weapons, blades and spikes and ugly saws designed to maim.
I tried to keep focused, not to dwell on how harmless my knives were in comparison. “More cursed souls?”
“Yeah.” Ethan’s gaze darted, swift but controlled. “They all look different. Depends what kind of asshole you were in life.”
“Heh. Look at that jelly-ass one, then. Big dripping pile of smug. That’ll be you.”
“Bite me.”
