But her words abruptly faded when an enormous black figure lifted itself from a pile of fabric on the floor in front of her.
Her hand shook with the smudge stick. Her heart clanged against her chest. She recoiled, her stomach churning in tense cramps.
The figure wore a black necklace with small, dark decorations on it… Were they its previous victims’ bones?
God, she hated that she was wrong, and Gunn had been right!
A growl rumbled through the room, shaking the floorboards beneath her feet.
“Hell, no!” She flexed her muscles, ready to run out of there screaming.
Taking a few steps backward, she stopped, having forgotten her Argos training. She used all her strength to not turn and bolt. “Y…You aren’t w…welcome here.”
An icy finger snaked down her spine. She trembled, unable to stop staring at the monster. As much as she wished it was a spirit, Gunn’s words about it being demonic kept circling in her mind like vultures.
A demon!
She wasn’t trained to take them down. Her specialty was spirits, cleansing, and hexes. She hadn’t even completed her training on creating demon safety spells at Argos. That’s why they’d sent her on this mission: it was supposed to be safe and easy. Their exact words. Thank goodness she had accepted Argos’s offer to get a protection rune inked on her inner arm to deter demons from possessing her.
Except now she felt anything but safe.
Terror shackled her in the attic as a paralyzing pain spread through her body.
The demonic figure twitched on the spot, then catapulted toward her with such speed, she stumbled backward, fear crowding in her brain.
She screamed.
It collided into her chest, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Fire engulfed her, searing her from the inside out. And at once, her world blackened.
Chapter 4
Cyra
Cyra screamed, her vocal cords strained, her arms flailed outward as she fell through the air. The darkness was like a pillow over her mouth and nose. She’d lost her sense of reality and why she was falling; instead, she pictured herself hitting the ground with a splat. Dread curled at the edges of her mind, insisting this was the end. She’d die here… wherever here was.
She hit the ground, hip first, and sprawled backward. “Godammit!” Tears crammed into her eyes as a dull ache swallowed her whole.
A sudden flash of light nearby blinded her, and she squinted, trying to make out the source. What’s going on? Where’s the light coming from?
Around her she found a bleak forest crowded with gnarled trees bent at odd angles. Their bare branches spiked into a sky burning with orange flames, lighting the place with a yellowy haze, though it was impossible to tell if it was day or night. The heat scorched across her shoulders, her face… everything. This was definitely not the attic. Had she fallen into Hell?
She pressed her hands against the ground and pushed herself up.
Steam rose up from the parched ground, stinking of sulfur. Decayed woodland robbed of leaves and life surrounded her. Nothing made sense. Already her knuckles turned white as she clenched her hands into fists against her stomach. Her breathing quickened as her thoughts tumbled with horrific scenes of her death. Fear gnawed at her, melting her defenses like a festering wound.
“I shouldn’t be here.”
She retreated, picking up speed as she scoured the woods for a way back. This wasn’t where she belonged—alive or dead. She used a shoulder to wipe away the tears threading down her cheek. The demon in the attic must have shoved her down here, and nobody would know. They’d search and never find her. Chase would never give up until it drove him insane. And Gunn… he’d blame himself.
Movement to her right caught her attention.
She shuddered and snapped around for a better look past a cluster of trees.
A shadow flittered between the trunks several yards away. Something huge leaped on all fours, black as ink. The wolf-like creature unleashed a deathly howl. A dozen others followed, and they were coming her way.
A strangled cry escaped her throat. Her fingernails bit into the fleshy part of her palms as she clenched her hands. “God, please no.” She wanted to go back and leave this Hell, the deathly heat, the mutts that would rip her to shreds in seconds.
Without another thought, she spun and bolted in the opposite direction. Where was she going to go? Didn’t matter. Only running from the monsters mattered.
“Cyra.” Her name whispered on the wind again and again.
She glanced back to see the shapes gaining speed, their growls piercing. Her breaths raced frantically. This wasn’t how she wanted to die, not being chomped down by hellhounds. Not in a billion years.
“Cyra!” The male voice grew louder, deeper.
Up ahead, a white rope dangled down from a gigantic oak barren of leaves. Any other time, she’d steer clear of anything resembling a noose, but today wasn’t that day.
She flung herself toward the lifeline because there was no other option for escape. The second she grasped it with both hands, it wrenched her upward. But not before something sharp snagged her pants and leg, burning her calf like boiling water. It tugged her back down from sheer weight. She yelped, rocking to shake it loose. “Get off!”
A monster with wire-like fur had a fang hooked into her pants, ripping fabric and flesh as it slid down. Fear collected in her chest and the excruciating pain shuddered through her.
Her grip slackened. No!
She’d end up as the mutt’s dinner, so she kicked the beast in the snout with her free leg, dislodging it.
The rope heaved her up so fast, her head spun.
Above in the fire-streaked sky was a gaping black hole, through which the cord dangled. Her brain hurt too much to make sense of the scene. The hounds beneath jumped up, stretching their long snouts to reach for her legs. One even scaled a tree. She drew her knees higher, crying out with terror.
With a
