Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(60)
“What the hell just happened?” I ask, stepping between the two sides and holding my scythe like I mean business as the demons growl at each other.
“If you won’t take her to Hell, then we will,” Flint shouts over me.
“We already did, you poacher. She freaked out,” Jerif yells back.
“Hey!” I interject. “I did not freak out in Hell,” I argue, turning to Jerif. He just rolls his eyes at me. “I kept it together until we were back and then I freaked out,” I clarify, like it makes a difference.
“That’s what got us into this mess in the first place. She wasn’t ready,” Iceman defends, but Alder and Flint still look dubious. I’m a little worried that they might just make a grab for me. If that’s the case, putting myself between my demons and these two probably wasn’t the best plan of action.
I open my mouth to try to talk everyone down from the freak out ledge, but suddenly, an alarm of wrongness chimes in my soul. Instantly, I feel all kinds of weird and icky.
I swallow as I try to work through what the hell just happened, looking at my guys with concern. Flint and Alder both curse and start to push their way out of the office. One minute, everyone was looking like they were ready to brawl, and now, each of them looks like they’re preparing for an attack and ready to fight together.
Everyone rushes out of the office, leaving me behind, a statue of wary confusion. When Iceman notices I’m not with them, he comes rushing back in, just to stare at me like he’s not sure what to do.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask after a beat as more and more worry bubbles up in my chest. I rub at my breast bone, not liking the feel of the alarm crawling up my esophagus.
“Did you feel it?” Iceman asks me, his eyes moving from my hand at my chest up to my eyes. He looks surprised. “Their Gate is being breached. It happens all the time. It’s nothing to worry about,” he tells me.
“Then why the hell do you look so worried?” I challenge.
Iceman hesitates for a moment and then sighs. “Because we’re about to fight whatever it is that’s trying to come through the Gate, and I’m worried about how that will affect you. I would just tell you to wait here, but I don’t trust that some demon from the bar wouldn’t try to pull something while we were distracted.”
I swallow. “Oh.”
“Indeed.”
I debate for a second and then square my shoulders. “If this is part of the gig, then I guess it’s best if I see what it’s all about first hand,” I tell him. “You know, it’s best to make informed decisions and all that.”
Iceman stares at me for a moment like he’s not sure if I really mean it, but then he gives me a nod and reaches for my hand. I put my palm in his big blue grasp, and he pulls me out of the office toward a back door that leads outside. I can feel the heat and the humidity greedily waiting to get me in their clutches again, and I silently thank fate for giving me the Gate in Sandpiper instead of this one. My hair is not meant to live in this climate.
“I want you to hang back and observe. Don’t freak out and don’t draw attention to yourself,” Iceman orders as he pulls me outside and around to the back of the bar, our running footsteps pounding over the sagging wood planks beneath our feet.
“I’ll stay out of the way,” I agree, blowing off his no freak out command. I mean, who can control something like that? It’s not like I love when it happens either.
We run away from the bar, up a grassy hill, passing pinprick trees that stretch thin and high above us. Iceman never lets go of my hand, and I’m grateful for that, because I would’ve fallen on my ass three times over already. My feet sink into the marshy ground as we hurry, and it’s hotter than Hades’s sauna out here. I’m dripping sweat again, clinging to Iceman’s refreshingly cool hand and wishing I could stuff my face up his shirt and rest my heated cheeks against his cold back.
At the top of the hill, I notice craggy headstones jutting out from the ground as we run toward a stone building that looks to be the size of a small stable. There’s a sign on the door that says Outhouse and another sign claiming Out of Order slapped over the top. I release an amused snort, but the sound dies when a roar fills the air all around me, and I feel my blood turn to ice in my veins.
A creepy tittering, like the sound a hyena makes, echoes all around us. But before I can even try to guess what the hell makes a noise like that, the door to the outhouse blows off.
A startled scream bubbles out of my throat as Flint, Alder, and my other three demons pour outside. Behind them, at least two dozen things come rushing out, looking like taller versions of Cousin It, shiny golden brown hair completely overgrown down to their toes.
The group spreads out like they’re each claiming their fighting space, and I watch the Cousin It demons as they hyena cackle at one another like they’re coming up with a plan.
“Stay here and stay low,” Iceman orders.
I drop down on my stomach, wishing the tree trunks were thicker, but I settle for hiding in the tall grass. I watch as Iceman runs down to join the rest, and his presence does not seem to please the Cousin It demons.
In another context, the long-haired demons would be funny looking. I keep picturing them with sunglasses and fedoras, and I can’t help but imagine what Grumpy Lurch would do if I brought one back for him.