Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(88)

But try as I might, I can’t get to him.

Don’t let me die for nothing.

His begged request repeats in my mind as sobs tear out of my chest. On my next blink, Jerif is covered. I can’t see him anymore. The demons have completely overtaken him.

Agony rips me open. I thought I could save him. I really thought I’d somehow be able to get us out of this. I thought I could save the day like the heroines do in the stories.

I stare at the pressing mass of demons—a never-ending sea of devastation.

I was wrong. So utterly, heartbreakingly wrong.

I pivot, desolation bleeding out of me, and finally do what Jerif asked me to do so that he doesn’t die in vain.

I run.





22





Demons scream behind me as I sprint with everything I have left inside of me. I can practically feel their acidic breath on the back of my neck, but if I can just make it to ūnus, if I can get through…

I shove any doubt away, because I have to get through. This can’t all be for nothing.

I try to focus on my pounding steps as I run down the path, but Jerif’s eyes and the look on his face before he was overrun smash through my insides like a wrecking ball.

I hate myself for leaving him. I should have tried harder. I keep telling myself that, but as I run for my life down the passageway, there’s another part of me that knows there was nothing I could do. There were too many of them. Maybe I could’ve turned this around if I had abilities other than the scythe that’s still gripped in my hand, but I don’t. I was too afraid of Hell and of being a demon. Maybe if I had accepted things sooner...

Tears drip furiously down my cheeks.

Their deaths are my fault.

I run faster, completely losing track of which Ring level I’m at. “Get her!”

I glance over my shoulder at the net-toting demons, and fear spikes through me like a Richter scale going off.

Pushing faster, I keep running, slamming my scythe into the few that reach my side. I race all the way to the end of the corridor, skidding to a stop as a smooth, metallic-looking portal sits serenely in front of me.

I spin, confused. Did I get turned around? Where’s the ūnus portal? A multicolored mob of demons moves down the passageway toward me, more nets in their grasps. They don’t look like they’re in any hurry, like they know they’ve got me cornered.

Yelps and growls of “Take her to the Ophidian” fill the air all around me, and even though I don’t know exactly what it means, I know I can’t let it happen. I swipe at the tears and sweat on my cheeks and back up slowly. I ready my scythe, suddenly determined that they won’t be taking me anywhere. I’ll fight until it kills me, because fuck these assholes.

They must have pushed me further down the corridor than I thought. I passed what I was sure was the inaccessible Duo portal, but that must’ve been ūnus instead. I ran right past it, and now I’ll fight to the death with my back pressed against the Nihil portal, because none of us are getting through this one.

I grip my scythe tighter, ready to take my last stand. I press back even more as demons move closer, their creepy eyes filled with looks of excitement and victory.

And then the strangest thing happens.

I expected to feel a wall of hardness at my back, but as I press against the Nihil portal, I’m suddenly blanketed in a thick, warm substance. I lose my balance and tip backward, and the last thing I see are the rage-filled faces of my attackers as they rush forward, their clawed hands snapping out to get me but catching only air instead.

My mouth opens in surprise as my scream fills my ears, and I fall straight into the Center Ring of Hell.

Holy fucking demon spawn, I’m a Nihil.



The End of Book One...