Malcolm by S J West

Author:S J West [West, S J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BluA
Publisher: Watcher Publishing
Published: 2014-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER fifteen

“What's a hellhound?” I ask, never having heard the term before. “Some sort of animal here on the surface? Like a wolf?”

“They’re ten times the size of an ordinary wolf,” Malcolm says, absently rubbing his right leg. “But, they're not creatures of this world. They were made in Hell.”

“Are we safe in here?” I ask, looking at the walls of the beach house and not finding a lot of comfort in their apparent thinness.

“No,” Malcolm says, confirming my suspicion.

“Then, what should we do?”

“I say we stand and fight,” he answers. “Levi probably sent a lot of packs out to track us down which means he doesn't exactly know where we are yet. If he did, he would already be here.”

“What's the best way to kill them?”

“You have to separate their heads from their bodies. And, whatever you do, don't let them bite you.”

“Why?” I ask apprehensively.

“Just trust me,” Malcolm says walking over to the wolf headed cane Will brought which he propped next to the fireplace. “You don't want to get bit by one.”

He lifts the cane in his hand, and I watch as he grabs the upper portion of it between the wolf’s head and the strange wing shaped silver protrusions. With one swift yank, I hear the metallic ring of a blade being released from its sheath. I have to admit I’m impressed with how Malcolm had his sword camouflaged. He was even able to fool the guards in Cirrus into allowing him to bring a weapon up there.

I grab my sword off the couch and the blade instantly bursts into red-orange flames like it has a mind of its own and knows it's time for a fight.

“It's been a while since I saw that sword in action,” Malcolm remarks. “Andre told me you were the best he’d ever seen with a blade. That’s high praise considering how much sword play we’ve seen in our lives.”

“My father trained me well,” I say, not wanting to sound like I was boasting. I just want Malcolm to know I can handle myself in a fight without him feeling as though he needs to protect me, which would only serve to divide his attention.

“Just don't let them bite you,” Malcolm warns again, like nothing else matters. “Their venom causes a pain worse than anything I wager you've ever felt before. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy...much less you.”

My heart is warmed by his apparent concern for my safety. Before I can ask anything about our strategy in defeating the creatures outside, something crashes through the sliding glass doors and lands on the floor in between us.

I've only seen pictures and videos of wolves, but this one seems unnaturally large to me with its head as high as my chest. Its white fur coat is fluffy and seems to be swaying in an imaginary wind because it doesn't match the tempo of the glacial gusts coming in from the outside. Its pristine white coat is surrounded by reddish-orange flames,

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