"You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else."
- Albert Einstein
***
The darkness responded this time.
It tackled him, swarming around him so violently it knocked him to the ground and tore the wolf out of him. Sirius snarled as he scrambled to his feet, muscles crackling with black lightning.
He snapped his teeth at a few shreds of the darkness that brushed against his face, whispering in a language he didn't care to remember.
Galloway.
The name reverberated through him. Her scream still echoed in his head, the sound one of pure terror. He'd never heard her make a sound like that before. He didn't ever want to again.
Hades had her. Hades was playing games.
He needed to hurry.
His claws scrambled on the warm stone beneath him, sending up sparks as he shot down the winding passageway that spiraled deeply into Hell. That image Hades had given him before unlocking his cage was burned into his mind.
Fear trembled through him, dull and easily ignored now that he was in this form.
The old temple. That's where Hades had dragged her. A palace of midnight horrors and dark dreams. A place Sirius had reveled in when the old gods held court and every wicked desire might be met and exceeded. A place he hated for the memories it held.
Sirius ran harder, exulting in the easy speed, the powerful flex and push of muscles in this body. The darkness and wind ruffled his fur, feeling pleasantly like fingers brushing over him. Scents and sounds flowed past, easily cataloged then tossed aside as unimportant.
Maybe he'd stay this way forever if he couldn't save Galloway.
The thought sank insidious claws into his mind and he snarled, shaking it off. That wasn't even an option.
The air grew thicker with the copper scent of blood and the sweet stink of rot. Sirius plowed forward, ignoring the tendrils of darkness trying to wrap around him, whispering at him to slow down. To not charge blindly in to the truly fell places down here.
He had been a fool to ever trust it. To ever think it would pick him instead of bending to Hades' will.
It had been at Hades' beck and call for millennia before Sirius had been born. Its alignment with the underworld lord had been much more rewarding than anything Sirius had ever offered.
Hades is one of our lords, yes, the darkness hissed. But remember you are dear to us.
Sirius only growled in answer and ran harder, his claws leaving white marks on the stone with every stride. His heart thudded against his ribs, pounding so hard it felt near to bursting. The fur on his back and tail bristled with each step closer.
It didn't matter what waited down there. All he knew was that he couldn't leave Galloway alone with it.
Deeper and deeper he descended into Hell, until the stink of decay abated and was replaced by a more sour smell. Tart, like green apples drenched in honey. It reminded him of nevermore apples—faerie fruit that would leave even a Hellhound in a haze of dreams for days.
He barreled through a tattered veil made of fine spider silk and skidded to a halt, eyes darting over the wild revel in front of him as his ears flattened against the sudden onslaught of noise.
YOU ARE READING
The Hellhound
Paranormal|The Soul Collector Duology Book 2| They took her. Hell took her. And he wants her back. Sirius has spent several thousand years trying to find something to fill the void that he had in place of a heart. As the bitch Luck would have it, the one thi...
