Hounded [Wild Hunt Series: 2]

4: Proceed

And at that very moment, something about the situation felt so, so very wrong. Just a feeling, a tickle in the back of my skull that raised goosebumps- and as I looked to Chiro I realized that the other demons, even the hounds, had hushed and backed away from us. The creature stayed crouched and now unrestrained. Chiro stood still, but his gaze lifted up, up, up.

The rain stopped with a dull patter. A shadow had fallen over us.

I looked up.

A feathered, rot-blistered wing had flicked over the scene. The stringy end of a serpentine tail, textured with velvet scales, wound around my arm. Down came the long neck of an eastern dragon risen from the dead, it seemed; down came its tattered, half-skull face. Dank breath warmed my ear. A tongue licked my cheek.

"Bonsoir, ma petite puce."

Dakota's rain-soaked face had gone white.

"Yer Majesty," said the Walrus, bowing low. The other demons offered a similar response, even Chiro, although he never averted his gaze, just nodded his head in polite, begrudging respect.

I had thought the King stayed in his tower because he couldn't transform, that Chiro had injured him beyond repair. That disfigured horror in the dark couldn't have gotten any worse, and yet, looking up at the dingy blue body, its burned and naked throat and that balding, dreadfully sharp face....How could the King live through this? Was he also hexed?

Corrosion and battle had eaten away at what might've once been a glorious hide of night tones and twilight indigo. The distinguished jawline bore heavy cuts to the bone. Rainwater flowed over exposed ribs, where it pooled on the curves and landed hick drops on my cloak. With a deep breath, I set my hand on the King's permanently bared teeth and nudged him gently away.

"Cat, who is our visitor you are set to execute?" he rumbled.

The creature's head rose.

"A messenger of the Marrow Witch," Chiro responded, and all the demons made that funny little gesture. The Walrus pushed Dakota, and she, Val, and I finally complied, too. The lingering girls follow their Lord's lead with questioning faces.

The King's arm, short but thick as a treetrunk, lifted with one claw the creature's face. "What does It ask of us?"

"The ceremony may continue as planned," the creature said. "The girls must come with us, to pay for the crime committed."

"Girls?" I said.

"More than two hands killed our priest." Its head, still gripped by the King, angled one dark socket toward me.

Dakota met my eyes. I looked away from her nodded at Chiro. "What about him?"

"Our lord's competitor," the thing said. "We do not find fault in that."

"Then you should find no fault with a Lady."

Its tongue rolled out again. "One girl then."

"Not worth listening to," Chiro cut in. The King rumbled his agreement, neck arched to bring his head back around beside me. I walked straight past his lacerated muzzle and crouched down beside the creature.

"Creature," I said, searching for its eyes. "Does the Witch love you?"

"The Witch loves us all."

"Tay," Chiro said, and using the flat of the blade to tap my knee. "Get the hell away. This is a minion. These are the bones of victims ground into new clay. This is flesh drawn of ash and mud."

"What would the Witch do to us?" I asked, even as I felt the King's teeth sink delicately into my cloak to drag me back. I stumbled upright, snatched the cloak from him with a smart slap on the fleshy half of his chin, and returned to the creature. I repeated my question.