Exterminating Angel by Pamela Turner

Author:Pamela Turner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lyrical Press
Published: 2014-05-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Raziel tightened his grip around Black Shuck’s leash, hoping the hellhound didn’t dash into traffic in his enthusiasm to pick up Sorath’s scent.

Streetlights flickered on in this run-down neighborhood. Brick warehouses sat empty, windows broken out, metal doors chained and locked. Grass poked through cracks in sidewalks, and weeds choked abandoned lawns.

Was Jesse hiding in one of those buildings? The hellhound, disguised as a Rottweiler, ignored the dilapidated structures.

They continued walking. Raziel’s ankles ached, and the leash chaffed his palm. At least Lucifer’s hound seemed to enjoy their walk. Him? Not so much. Life sucked without angelic powers.

A few blocks later, Black Shuck stopped, muscular body pressing against Raziel’s thigh. The hellhound growled. His eyes briefly blazed red, before returning to dark brown.

Black Shuck’s attention seemed focused on an abandoned, Italianate-style house. Graffiti-sprayed plywood covered windows and the front door. The paint had long since peeled, leaving gray, rotting boards.

“He’s there?” Raziel pushed the board covering the entrance. It didn’t budge. “How’d he get in?”

Raziel circled the house, looking for an opening. Black Shuck padded beside him. He’d no doubt Jesse hid inside. The hellhound’s preternatural sense of smell exceeded the remarkable olfactory abilities of his mundane canine cousins.

Outer doors opened onto a cellar. Raziel tugged at a rusty handle. Hinges creaked, protesting at first, before yielding.

Raziel peered into darkness. Lacking both, he’d no desire to venture inside without a flashlight or lighter. “What do we do? Go back and get reinforcements? Or continue on?”

An agonizing scream from inside the dilapidated house jolted through him like an electric shock. Breathing heavily, he placed his hand over his racing heart.

“Shit!” Raziel started down uneven concrete steps, holding onto the cold stone wall for support.

The descent into the abyss had begun.

* * * *

“Let me reiterate, I hate creepy old houses. Ugh!” Raziel jerked his hand away, knocking whatever had crawled over it to the ground. Bad enough lichen or moss slimed the cool stone.

Feeling his way across the cellar, he reached a set of rickety wood steps. Black Shuck snuffled like a pneumatic air brake. Raziel debated telling him to keep quiet, but it wasn’t like the canine could control his respiration.

He doubted Jesse expected them. But that scream, suddenly cut off, meant Jesse, or someone, was in trouble.

Steps led to a closed door. Raziel hesitated. Did he want to see Jesse? Experience had taught him those who tried to control demons often came to messy ends.

Black Shuck shoved his muzzle against Raziel’s ass.

“All right. I’m going.” Raziel pushed the dingy wood frame. The bottom scraped the stone step with a screeching whine, startling cockroaches on the other side.

He stepped into a kitchen that would send a health inspector running for the exit. Grease and grime coated the ancient stove. A thick layer of dust covered the walls, shrouding the room in grayness. Shredded cobwebs dangled in corners.

The living room required an industrial vacuum and a super-sized can of furniture polish. Dust-coated sheets protected the furniture, and more cobwebs hung from the chandelier.

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