Renegade (Heven and Hell #4)(8)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I gather.

I paused at the corner, pretending to bend down to adjust my shoe and allowing the thick black cashmere coat to fall around me, creating a curtain, presumably hiding my eyes from anyone daring enough to attempt to rob the rich guy who didn’t see it coming.

Just as suspected, someone stood from their perch and rushed me. A silver gun glinted in his steady hand. Before he could shoot, I had him pinned on the ground and the gun pointed at his head.

“I… I didn’t mean nothin’, man,” the kid said, his eyes darting between me and the gun.

I smiled, allowing my teeth to show and the glamour that covered them to slip. The kid made an embarrassing squealing sound and wet himself.

I shook my head. “You’re the only one who had the guts to rush me and you ruin it by pissing your pants.”

“What the hell are you?”

I was impressed his voice was steady.

“I’m here to offer you a solution to your hunger. Money, power, respect.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “You don’t run this territory. You got no power here.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” I blinked and the car coming around the corner behind us slammed into the side of a brick building. With a flick of my wrist it exploded into flames.

The kid’s eyes widened and I could see his hands shake. “Who are you?” he asked again.

“Your new boss.” I lifted the kid to his feet and handed him his gun. He took it with obvious precaution.

“I’d like to offer you a deal…”

From across the street, something slithered from a dark alleyway. It clung to the shadows as its eyes darted about. I started its way.

“Wait! What deal?” The kid called out, clearly annoyed I would dare walk away from him.

I didn’t turn back. I didn’t need to.

I lifted my hand and his strangled sobs filled my ears. I heard his body hit the ground with a thump and I smiled. I didn’t have time for deals right now.

I stepped into the dank alleyway as the creature slithered closer. Its scales were rough and dry, which made a scraping sound across the hard pavement.

“How dare you disturb me here,” I snapped.

“M-masssterrrrr…” The creature spoke. “I bring newsss from home.”

“It better be important or you will suffer.” I growled, emphasizing my final word.

Its body moved restlessly. “Yessss, m-masssterrrr.”

I grunted. “Shut up!” The hissing voice was irritating. I reached out and grabbed it by the neck, lifting it off the ground. When it flailed about, I squeezed harder, causing it to choke on its disgusting tongue.

“Show me.”

It didn’t respond because it couldn’t as I traveled into its mind and saw everything he came to tell.

White-hot burning rage filled me.

“How dare he!” I thundered. Windows from nearby buildings shattered with my cry. I threw the creature away from me, wanting to kill.

Flames began to lick up my legs and then I disappeared.

Riley

The bad thing about living in hell (well, okay one of the bad things) was that I didn’t heal as quickly as I thought I should, or maybe it was just that having part of your back broken wasn’t something my body could deal with on its own. Who knew?

After getting no sleep and being extremely grouchy with pain, I decided I had enough. I managed to get myself in my Jeep. I drove to the sea of black sludge (water down here) and got out of the Jeep to look up at the sky. I hadn’t seen the Devourer in weeks, but I really hoped I would see him today.

I stood there for what felt like hours (probably only about three minutes) and then I got mad. So I reached into the black sludge and pulled out a demon, killing him instantly. I tossed his body aside and reached for another, repeating the process until I had a nice pile of dead demons.

“Who wants lunch?” I called, wiping the sweat from my brow and leaning against the side of the Jeep.

Seconds later a large figure appeared in the sky. Its bright-colored feathers were an assault to my senses and I wished I could see him as he used to look—a scaly old dragon. Now he looked like a giant bird from Sesame Street.

The Devourer landed near the dead bodies and looked at me. I waved him toward his lunch. “I got you a present.”

The Devourer did his thing, opening up his great jaws, and created a strong wind that threatened to suck me forward. I watched as what little souls the demons had left were sucked up into his mouth, their bodies turning to ash.

When his lunch was had, the dragon began to turn away and I reached into the driver’s seat to grab a bag, then pushed away from the Jeep. “Oh, no you don’t. I need a ride.”

The dragon turned back, eyeing me dubiously.

I narrowed my eyes and stepped toward it as I spoke. “I know you understand me. I know you don’t like me. I don’t really care. You owe me for that little snack you just had.”

The Devourer stretched out its neck and put its nostrils up against my chest and sniffed. He nudged me in the side—the side where something was broken—and then looked at me.

“Yes, it’s broken. Thanks for that. Didn’t hurt at all.”

He gave a great snort, blowing bad dragon breath in my face, and then lowered his wide body so I could climb on.

He wasn’t gentle with his flying, and I thought about kicking him several times. But seeing as how we were, oh, a thousand feet in the air, I figured I would refrain—I didn’t need any more broken parts. When he landed next to his lair, I climbed off feeling worse than when I got on. I gave him a dirty look. “I’m not giving you any candy.”

The dragon turned his back.

I half drug myself through his cave toward the entrance to the Island of Hell. My left leg was going numb and I was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing.

When I stepped out of the cave and onto the island, I squinted against the blinding bright sunlight. When you live in hell—you tend to forget how bright the sun is. I was still kind of amazed this place even existed. Life in hell… It was quite the concept.

When Heven and Sam first found this place the Devourer wouldn’t let me come… Apparently he sensed darkness within me—and yeah, maybe a dash of betrayal. I took the Treasure Map from Heven and gave it to Beelzebub. It didn’t get me anywhere—except lectured by Heven and punched by Sam. I blamed it all on the curse I drug around with me. Being born a hellhound and enslaved to do Beelzebub’s bidding wasn’t something I could really control, but it certainly controlled me for a lot of years. Or so Heven pointed out.