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“Time’s up, little saint…but before you do faint…” Pan coos in my ear, rubbing his nose against my cheek, prodding me with his member and triggering a fresh burst of trauma pain at the back of my neck, but he continues, “a kiss from your angel lips is all I desire…and to the demon’s lair I’ll take your Halo-fire.”
Fully prepared to swallow my pride, I lean in to turn my lips to Pan’s cheek. I swallow hard at the sight of those strong blackwood peaks. At the last second, his searing mouth crushes mine. I whimper as he forces my lips to open so he may taste me. His strong hand at my back bears the strength of an oak tree. I have no choice but to arch beneath his aged superiority. His fangs scrape my teeth, the inside of my lower lip, tongue swiping against mine. He tastes of a paradox of lust and panic, of lechery and hysteria. Of honey and madness.
I bite back a moan as his bees swarm around my head. A few sting my neck in tiny fang kisses. The kiss lasts all of a few seconds, but when he’s done, all my flesh feels swollen. Thankfully, no liquid gold drips down my thighs.
Pan touches his index finger to my lips, shushing me, “Sweet, sweet, sweet, honey Halo-Bearer…don’t fear, we shan’t ensnare her. Come into our arms, little saint…and to the vampire’s lair, we’ll carry you without complaint!”
Heaving a deep, gusting breath, I follow Pan’s voice. Inhaling deeply, I enter his arms and hold my air once his taloned fingers encircle my waist. Why am I not surprised that he shadow-wraiths us through the dark haze of the Spirit realm? No doubt, the fabric of the worlds does not confine him. Does time? I try not to breathe in his scent of sweet honey dripping from the hive, contrasting the violent iron of blood.
In that shadowy haze, held within Pan’s dark force with his lower furs nudging my legs, I ask, “He sent you, didn’t he?”
“Death, Death, we love him owing to our favor…though would have loved this angel to savor…” His tongue snakes into my ear, hissing what he would have done to me beyond just that steamy kiss. I bested him last time. After just a few stakes, am I already so weak? My pure blood seems thinner, gushing through my veins.
So, now I owe Thanatos another debt.
After another blink, Pan deposits me before a deep pit worn right into the very ground close to the Iron Walls. A raking wind, not cold but sulfuric, rakes against my face as I loom closer to stare inside the depths.
“To the Scourge’s lair, you asked to go…careful, honey sweet, and don’t let it infect your soul!”
Without another word, Pan shoves me inside, and I scream, I scream, I scream!
* * *
After a freefall of a few seconds,I open my eyes to the ground approaching. A fate of broken bones awaits me. I slam my eyes shut. Imagining a hammock, a net, a cocoon, I unleash my Halo and catch myself inches from the ground. Warmth surrounds me. When I open my eyes, I discover my boy hovering inside a golden orb.
“Well!” I gasp, a little breathless. “That’s a new one.”
As soon as I diffuse the net, I drop into a pile of bones.
On all sides of me, the pit branches off into dozens of directions as if I’m in the hub of a wheel with many spoked paths. Containing any gasps that wish to arise because I should be used to dumping grounds by now, I swallow hard and form a fire lantern. I create a steady flaming candle burning inside to grant me direction. I kneel before each spoke path and grunt from the boot prints marking each territory, along with splotches of dried blood and bone powder.
Taking a shot in the proverbial dark, I commence down one of the paths to my right. Whatever Scourge vampire this is, it must be taking whatever it possibly can into its lair and devouring them; I discover trophies of ghoul bones and portions of their shrunken heads, teeth, skull hair, nails, and bits of skin. The stench of the dead clots the air. When this path leads to nothing but an empty room no bigger than a closet of more bone spoils, I double back, not wanting to be stuck in this dead-end space.
I voyage down another path—only for this one to descend deeper into a lower pit. This time, I find a live trophy! I freeze in my tracks. It’s a widow demon. Demoness.
Wounded, near death—on her knees, pierced right through the chest. A chest that parades the skulls of her kills, the skulls of her past husbands—hence the name widow. A mass of Scourge venom forks out in a network to infect her once formidable chest and horns. Something twinges inside me. The venom gleams amber into the stitches lining her face. Widow demons are notorious for peeling scaly skin and threading it to their faces. More organic trophies. When the demoness lifts clawed bony fingers toward me, her fiery eyes like kindled topaz blinking in a silent plea, pity wells up inside my heart. I purse my lips and chew on my inner cheek, conflicted.
Despite knowing how this may set me back and how dangerous widow demons are, something about her lures my Halo. And perhaps she may tell me more about this Scourge vampire. Perhaps enough that I may find the host, bind it with my tethers, drag it back to the Tenth Tower, and bring it to Quillion to deduce a cure. No more delays. Pitching my chest forward, I unleash my Halo currents, coursing them into her body to cleanse her of the amber venom. Unfortunately, my action also melts the skulls inside her chest chamber.
With no reservations, the widow-demoness crouches, opening her mouth to hiss a full mouth of fanged teeth at me. Startled, I leap back, flinching, preparing a Halo shield.
Her guttural voice announces, “You destroyed my skulls, shiny. But you help me live, so I will let you live.”
She rises to her full stance, a head taller than me, shoulders squaring. But I still mark her as she begins to pass.
“Where is the entrance to the Scourge?” I muster up the courage to ask before she can depart from the hollow room.
Again, she hisses, pausing. At first, I don’t believe she will tell me, but her topaz eyes blink again. They widen a moment later. “Follow the path back to the hub. It is there. Goodbye, shiny. I hope we don’t meet again.”
Without a thank you, the widow-demoness leaps onto all fours and hurdles away. Groaning because I’ve passed through the hub several times, I return and take a closer gander—even feel along the walls. But there’s nothing but the other paths, which all lead to dead ends bearing more skeletal remains.
Cursing that succubus of a widow-demoness, I project my Halo light, hoping to determine where on earth the Scourge’s innermost lair is. As soon as those shafts of light curve, as soon as my Halo dust seeps into the ground, prodding through the soil, I understand: I’ve been standing on top of it this whole time!
I stomp on the ground, on the bones. Shove them so deep in the ground. The thin soil gives way and takes my weight with it. Again, I reach for my Halo net while plummeting deeper than before. Bones clatter from my body, scattering upon the stone floor around me like disruptive musical notes.
Once I raise my head, I smell it before I seethem.Holy foremothers!Oh, Goddess high, can’t you hear your people cry?
I stand and hurry toward the first body encased in amber: a teenage girl. Wreathed by black capillaries, humming with energy, the amber itself is warm, viscous, and thick to the touch, syrupy. It lashes a scorching, venomous warning: if I invade its territory, it will inject its Scourge inside me. I jerk my hand back, using my flames to erase the amber dripping on my skin.
