Page 19 of Demanding Discord
In the distance, scary-ass demons skulked about, walking the streets and going in and out of shops. The buildings looked like they used to be nice, but after centuries of neglect, they’d fallen into disrepair. Potholes dotted the streets, and a brawl—from what I could only imagine was a bar—spilled out onto the sidewalk.
“We’re back in the eighth level, aren’t we?” I asked.
“Indeed, and in the seediest village imaginable.” He winced as he took a step. “Do you sense the safehouse?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the image Hecate had shown me at the temple. A tingle formed beneath my breastbone, a magical tug guiding me toward my destination. Was this what my dad felt when he used his location magic? If so, it was nothing short of amazing.
“Quickly.” His left knee buckled, and I held him tighter.
“I found it, but there’s a problem.” I repositioned him, pushing my shoulder into his armpit to absorb his weight. “We can’t parade you down the street naked and bloody.”
“In this town, it won’t matter. The inhabitants have seen much worse.”
I didn’t want to know the details. “Okay, but they’ll recognize us, won’t they? You, at the very least.”
“Disguise us then.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Bloody our faces or leave me here. I’m fading.”
“Bloody our…?” I glanced around the tunnel. The magic had dissipated, and we now stood at the very mundane mouth of the cave. Or…if we had entered through the mouth near Hecate’s temple, did that make this the ass?
It didn’t matter. There had to be some mud or dirt around that we could smear on our faces. Anything but blood. Sadly, only solid rock surrounded us.
“Cinder…” His lids fluttered, his eyes rolling back.
“Crap. I’m on it.” I grabbed my last knife, contemplating where to cut. His blood on him, mine on me. Who knew how long it would take him to heal, though? And with my pain tolerance at a negative ten, cutting myself wasn’t the slightest bit appealing either.
I scooted him to the right, leaning him against the cave wall. “Do not fall down. I’m not sure I can get you back up if you do.”
He only grunted in reply. Keeping one hand on his body to hold him against the wall, I slowly bent until I reached the undies on his foot. The blood had stopped gushing, thankfully, and as I untied the makeshift bandage, only a few drops oozed from the wound.
His knees bent, and he slumped downward. I shot to my feet and grabbed him around the chest before he could tumble, situating my shoulder against his armpit once more.
Never did I ever think I would need to smear bloody panties over someone’s face—especially my own—yet here we were. The fabric dripped like Aunt Flo had spilled a week’s worth of tomato juice all at once, and I curled my lip as my stomach turned.
Discord wheezed, spurring me into action. I rubbed the bloody undies over his face, dabbing a little extra around his eyes while leaving a few spots of bare skin to break up his features.
Next up…me. I smeared the blood on like Viking warpaint and shoved the panties into my pocket. So gross.
“Here we go.” Tightening my grip on my demon, I guided him out of the cave and into the city.
Very few people here had human forms. Most looked like monsters, with flat noses, bull horns, and muscular, top-heavy builds. Some had hooves while others sported taloned toes, and they all reeked of sweat, stale booze, and sulfur.
Music blasted from a bar, the bass so loud and low it could have altered my heartbeat if I stuck around long enough. And that brawl on the sidewalk…? Good goddess, these guys were vicious.
Punches cracked bones, and claws split skin. I tried to give it a wide berth as I dragged Discord toward the safehouse, but a particularly beefy fellow tossed a tall, lanky demon toward me as if the guy were made of straw. The demon landed at my feet, and I furrowed my brow, doing my best not to allow my reaction to match my emotions.
I wanted to run, to get the hell off this street and into the safety of Hecate’s sanctuary, but we’d never make it there alive if they suspected who we were. I had to act like a demon.
“Watch it,” I growled, though I sounded more like a fluffy kitten than the bear I tried to emulate.
The beefy guy roared and leaped, landing on top of Mr. Lanky and clutching the back of his neck.
“Don’t look,” Discord wheezed, so you know I absolutely had to.
Mr. Beefy extended his thick claws, sinking them into Lanky’s neck and wrapping them around his vertebrae. With a guttural roar, he yanked his arm back, ripping the guy’s spine from his body—Mortal Kombat style.
My stomach lurched, but instead of tossing my cookies into the street, I glowered and kept walking.
“Who are you?” Beefy called behind me.
