Infernal Affairs by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk [Hawk, Jordan L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Widdershins Press LLC

Ralgath woke up shortly after nightfall. Chess sprawled beside him, their skin warm and supple against his own. The curtains over the motel room’s large front window blocked most of the light from the parking lot, but he could just make out the shape of the television against the far wall, and Fluffpaw’s pointy ears and raised head.

Fluffpaw growled, the rumble rattling the entire bed. Chess’s eyes flew open, but they didn’t say anything. Ralgath remained silent as well, listening intently for any sound.

The door flew open with a crash, the locks ripped free from the frame. Chess was on the far side of the bed from the door; they rolled off the mattress in a single, smooth motion and dropped to the floor. Fluffpaw leapt to her feet, and the growl became a snarl. Ralgath sat up, and a silver knife thunked into the pillow where his head had lain only seconds before.

Ralgath snapped his fingers, and a flame appeared above his hand. Its weak light revealed their attacker’s face. He looked to be a mortal in his thirties, dressed in a black leather jacket and scuffed jeans. One hand was empty—probably the one that had held the knife—but in the other gleamed a sword.

Fluffpaw came off the bed with a snarl, but the man sprang away with superhuman speed.

A Chosen One? But no. Ralgath could smell no trace of Celestial lilies in the human’s scent. Rather, the man’s sweat reeked of rue and cloves.

An infernal mark. Like Chess’s.

The man sprang onto the bed, sword swinging so fast it was nearly a blur. Only Ralgath’s demonic reflexes saved him. He fell flat on the bed, and the sword carved a chunk out of the headboard instead of Ralgath.

The knife protruded from the pillow by his head. Ralgath jerked it free—only to have it kicked from his hand by his attacker’s heavy boot.

Then Chess caught the man in a flying tackle. They both crashed into the window—and through it, dragging the curtains with them.

Ralgath had just enough presence of mind to shove his feet into his shoes to keep the glass from slicing them. Summoning his pitchfork, he ran outside to find Chess and the intruder dueling. Chess had a sword as well—no doubt that was what they dove off the bed for. Metal chimed off metal as they exchanged a swift flurry of blows.

Ralgath hesitated. He might be able to disarm the attacker with his pitchfork—but he’d be equally likely to stab Chess by accident.

Fluffpaw rushed past him, snarling and growling. She flung herself on the man, her massive jaws closing around the arm holding the sword. Teeth sliced through leather like butter, and he screamed in pain.

“Good girl!” Ralgath shouted, hurrying after her. “Hold him there!”

The man punched Fluffpaw in the side of the head. She let go with a yelp, and he bolted.

But Chess blocked their attacker’s path, sword leveled at his heart. “Not so fast,” Chess said.

He stopped and held up his hands.

“Are you all right?” Ralgath asked, running to them.

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