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  Haven’s laughter followed him into the trees.

  For several hours, Kyana led the way through more overgrown trails. Ryker offered no suggestions this time, knowing she was in her element. This was what made her the best tracer the Order had. The Lychen in her would find it if there was anything to be found.

  He could tell by her intermittent pauses and huffs that she would have preferred to do this hunt alone. They were slowing her down, as she could maneuver over and under the branches Ryker and Haven had to either duck or climb. If he hadn’t needed to make sure Haven didn’t fall behind, Ryker could have kept up with no problem, but as it was, he was forced to maintain a human pace.

  So far, they hadn’t found a single thing useful in telling them who might have taken the key or where it might be now. Hell, they hadn’t found anything since finding Cronos’s bones. Not an animal or a human seemed to exist on this island any longer. The Order had stopped using this as a penal isle centuries ago, but still it made no sense. It wouldn’t matter what realm they were in, animals should have existed here.

  Once they caught up to Kyana again, she set off to explore the next area just outside their view. She bounded over a fallen log and skidded to a stop. She turned in a slow circle, taking in her surroundings. Not exactly a clearing, but the grass had been crushed, small trees uprooted, and bones obscured the dirt.

  Ryker watched as Kyana nosed the bones closest to her, trying to keep hold of whatever scent had caught her attention.

  Haven’s eyes widened as she gripped Ryker’s shoulder. “I am not walking in there.”

  Moving back to the felled tree, Kyana nipped Haven’s hand. Haven jerked back and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Forget it, Kyana. You either find me a way around or I’ll wait here.”

  “I’m going to check and see how far the bones are scattered.” Ryker jumped over the log. “Then I’ll come back to get you.”

  He followed Kyana through the mass grave, examining bones as he went. “What is her deal with bones? She said she could hold her own but freaks every time there’s a body of some sort lying around.”

  Kyana growled low in her throat.

  “Yeah, I know you can’t talk to me, but . . .” He picked up a skull and examined it closely. It looked like a gorilla skull, or the skull of some other really large primate. “You should see if one of the Ancients has a spell that will allow you to talk in Lychen form. It would make things a lot easier. Ever watch Scooby Doo? You kind of remind me of Scrappy.”

  This time her growl was much deeper, like she’d take great pleasure in biting him.

  “Okay, I’ll stop.” Ryker chuckled. “Looks like we know why there are no animals around.” He held the skull beneath her snout. “It’s been bleached clean, so it’s been months maybe since these were left here. Can you catch a scent of what might have devoured it?”

  Kyana hesitated, then sniffed the skull from every angle. When she was done, she huffed and sat down. He took that to mean she’d found nothing. “Was afraid it might be too clean.” He dropped the bone, stood, and brushed his hands on his jeans. “Let’s see how far this goes.”

  Together, they moved through the thicket a couple dozen feet. As quickly as it had started, the debris ended. There was something seriously wrong on this island. He couldn’t put his finger on what the danger was, but he only had to look around at the scattered bones to know something lurked in the shadows.

  “I’d feel better if we all stuck together. Wait here, I’ll go get Haven.”

  Once Ryker lifted Haven into his arms to carry her over the bones, Kyana pushed through a narrow opening in the underbrush and entered another clearing. Ryker and Haven followed, pleased to see this opening was much larger than the one they’d found last night. Structures that looked on the verge of collapse littered the clearing. Kyana lifted her head and inhaled.

  Ryker didn’t need any Lychen blood to smell what she’d picked up on. Death. Worse, even, than the foul stench of the River Styx. She released a low howl, bringing Haven and Ryker to her side as she turned in a slow circle, following the gust of wind.

  “What is that smell?” Haven cupped her hand over her nose, her eyes locked on Kyana.

  Kyana pressed her nose deeper into the soil, apparently inhaling enough dirt to make her shoot off half a dozen doggie sneezes like miniature gunshots.

  “Is it coming from under us?” he asked her, not sure how to read her if she bothered to answer.

  She growled though, and it sounded to him like an affirmation. When she started digging furiously, he knelt to help her.

  Together they dug through inches of grass and gnarled roots beneath. The more they dug, the stronger the scent became. When they hit concrete, Kyana sat down on her haunches and howled in victory.

  “We’ve got something,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to beckon Haven closer. He leaned back so the Witch could see the rusted hinge they’d revealed. It was attached to a trap door smack in the center of the clearing. It took Ryker a few attempts to open it, but while the hinges and latch were rusted, there was no squeak when it finally popped open. It had been used frequently and recently. A gush of warm air whooshed out of the deep hole and he staggered backward.

  “Dear God. The stink is even worse down there.” Haven cupped her hand over her mouth and nose again. He couldn’t blame her. His own eyes were burning and watering like he’d just been Maced.

  It smelled like a thousand freshly mutilated carcasses coated in rotting meat and vegetation.

  “That,” Ryker said, a racking cough bending him over his knees, “is the smell of death.”

  He’d smelled some foul things in his life, but this topped even the burning pyres set up around St. Augustine to dispose of the bodies that littered the streets. Beside him, Kyana whined. He could only imagine how her acute sense of smell was reacting to such vileness.

  Ryker picked up a rock and tossed it down the hole, counting as it fell, and fell . . . and fell. Finally, there was a faint splash and thud. It had landed.

  On his hands and knees again, his nose tucked in the collar of his shirt, Ryker felt around the ledge of the hole, backed up, and brushed off his hands. “No ladder. There’s no way down other than jumping.” He looked at Haven. “You’ll have to stay here.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I’ve seen Lost. There’s no way I’m going to wait around for the mysterious polar bear to come out of hiding and eat me.”

  Ryker pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t know the math for how fast a stone falls is equal to so many feet, but I do know it sums up to that being one deep-ass hole. The fall would break your kneecaps, or your neck. Depending on how graceful a faller you are.” He turned to Kyana. “I know you could make that jump without problem in your normal state, but how ’bout in Lychen?”

  She gave a low bark.

  “Good.” Without giving Haven time to prepare, he scooped her into his arms. “Hold on tight. We’re going down.”

  He pushed off the ground and leaped into the dark, unknown cesspool.

  Chapter Nine

  When she hit the bottom of the hole, Kyana landed just behind Ryker, sending dirty, foul-smelling water in every direction, drenching her coat. She shook her neck to make sure the Illusion Charm still hung around it. When it thudded against her chest, she shifted. Disgusted by the rank water on her bare flesh, she stood naked and shivering behind Ryker and Haven and gave the charm a moment to work its magic so, to them, she’d appear to have on clothes.

  “I can’t believe you did that!” Haven smacked Ryker’s shoulder. “Don’t you put me down. I’m not walking in this filth.”

  Ryker set her on her feet anyway. “You said you weren’t staying behind.”

  Haven buried her face in her shirt. “Yeah, which meant one of you should have stayed up there with me.”

  That never would have worked. Kyana wouldn’t sit by while Ryker explored the hole. And he wouldn’t let her go alone. Stalemate. Ignoring the tirade, Kyana scanne
d the area. The water barely reached her knees. Bones floated on the murky surface, much like the ones they’d stumbled across above. However, these were accompanied by carcasses—fresh and large, bloated and decomposing. She moved slowly forward, trying not to disturb the filthy water any more than necessary.

  Her breathing as shallow as possible, Kyana scanned the walls. It took her brain a second to realize that she was looking at dirt and tree roots. Through the darkness, she could see a fork ahead, and paths leading north and south. It looked like some sort of crude tunnel system.

  Ryker stopped beside her, his mouth and nose hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. His gaze raked over her. Up and down, a slow smile stretching his mouth wide. Kyana looked down. Though she was naked, she could see leather and cotton covering her body. What was he staring at?

  Kyana continued on to the fork, and stopped at the intersection. No light or sound drifted from either opening. With the rankness surrounding them, Kyana had no hope of picking up the scent of anything else.

  Only one way to find answers. Kyana turned to the left. “You two check out the right fork. If you find something, yell.” She’d barely moved a foot when Ryker’s hand bit into her arm, stopping her progress.

  With a hiss, she faced him.

  His silver eyes swirled. “We’re not going in there.”

  Like hell she wasn’t. She shook off his grasp. “This tunnel could hold the secret to what happened to the key.” It didn’t matter if she had to go it alone, she wasn’t turning back until she’d at least checked it out.

  “Don’t fight me on this, please,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever lurks in here is pure evil.”

  How the hell do you know? she wanted to scream at him. But she didn’t need to. Now that she was still, and wasn’t thinking about what she might find, she could feel it too. It settled around her, pressing in on her like a physical being. The hair at her nape stood on end. Whatever was down here, it was unnatural. More unnatural even than Kyana’s screwed-up genetics.

  Still, she couldn’t leave this island without some hint as to where that key might have gone. This was the only thing they’d found that had given her any hope. She turned back to face Ryker, intent on telling him to take Haven and go back—that she’d go it alone. But the look on his face froze her in place. His normally tanned skin had grown so pale, he practically glowed in the stark black tunnel. He leaned against the muddied wall, clutching his chest, his features twisted and distorted. He looked like he was having a heart attack.

  Forgetting everything other than the fact that Ryker looked ready to croak, Kyana rushed to his side. She gripped his shoulder, shaking him, trying to get him to snap out of whatever had taken hold of him.

  His eyes fluttered open.

  “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

  He panted, and when she took his arm, the trembling muscle beneath his skin sent a tremor of fear through her.

  “Talk to me.”

  “Don’t know.” He bowed his head, sank lower against the wall. “Can’t breathe.”

  Worry had her reaching for his pocket. “Is it the ring? Get rid of the damned conduit.”

  He shook his head and grabbed her hand, a drop of perspiration slipping onto his nose. “Not the ring. It’s . . . this place, I think.”

  She tugged his arm, pulling him back a few feet to stand beneath the opening above. The minute he stepped into the ventilated area, he gulped in a huge amount of air, and color slowly painted his cheeks. Kyana backed up, not willing to chance a stray ray of sun poking through the opening, but kept her eyes on him.

  “I’m okay,” Ryker said. He released his death grip on his shirt, flexed his fingers, and bent over his knees. With his head that close to the water, she was afraid he’d suffocate again.

  “Look at me, Ryker.”

  He lifted his head. His eyes had gone red. They were doing that cloudy, swirly thing again. “I’m all right, Kyana.”

  Pointing to the tunnels behind her, he shook his head. “I can’t go down there. I don’t know what it is, but something . . . There’s something in there that’s evil, Ky. And not Dark Breed evil. Evil enough that the mere nearness of them was about to kill me.”

  “I don’t get it. Dark Breeds are evil, but you fight them, no problem.”

  “We have to get off this island.”

  “Go. I’ll be up in a few minutes—”

  “You’re not going in there either!”

  He hadn’t yelled the demand. More like roared it. Kyana jerked, surprised by how important this seemed to him. “It didn’t affect me, Ryker. You can’t expect me to leave this place empty-handed.”

  “We’re not empty-handed. We have the ring.”

  “Kyana, maybe you should listen to him,” Haven insisted, trying to pull Kyana to the opening. “I really want us out of here.”

  Kyana pushed Haven at Ryker. “She doesn’t need to be down here either. Take her with you.” The red of his eyes deepened to near maroon as he glared at her. “I’m leaving. I’m taking Haven and we’re gone. If you want a port out of here, you’ll come now.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’d leave me here?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  She bit her tongue, ready to give him a piece of her mind regarding his ultimatum. But there wasn’t time for another argument. “One hour. Take Haven, get back to camp, and if I’m not back in one hour, start your circle without me.”

  “Ky, don’t!”

  But his words echoed behind her, and she strode into the shadows.

  She didn’t look back until she reached the fork. The emotions on Ryker’s face filtered from rage to concern. Finally, he nodded. “I can’t go in there. It will kill me. That means I can’t go in there to stop you either. Or to save you, Ky. One hour. Don’t make me leave you here.” With that, he wrapped Haven in his arms, knelt, and shoved off with his feet. As Haven screamed for Kyana to come with them, Ryker’s body clung to the sides of the vertical tunnel like Spider-Man and he leaped from side to side until he’d pulled them through the opening.

  “Get your butt up here right now! No, we’re not leaving her down there. Kyana!”

  Haven’s voice faded. Kyana guessed Ryker had dragged her away from the opening. Haven would be safe. Ryker would protect her. With a sour feeling in her stomach, Kyana turned back to the fork, checking both tunnels. North or South? South had always been good for her.

  Her senses on overload, she moved slowly. Most of the forks she’d come to were caving in or completely blocked. She stayed on the main branch, checking the dirt, water, and darkness for any signs of life. There weren’t even any spiders in this hellhole. No beetles mucking around in the mud. No worms to be seen anywhere.

  She’d been in some pretty nasty places before. Crypts and tombs, graveyards and mausoleums. Never had she been creeped out the way she was now. Her instincts told her to turn back and follow Ryker out of here. But she’d yet to fail at a job, and returning to Artemis empty-handed felt exactly like failure.

  Pushing forward, she came to a wide chamber flanked on either side by narrow hallways that looked impassable for anyone over four feet tall. In the center, a mound of dirt and debris formed a tiny island in the pool of murky, stagnant water. Kyana lowered herself closer to the ground in preparation to defend herself, then climbed onto the island. Fresh air wafted in from somewhere. She didn’t know if it was imagined because she was no longer walking in shit or if there was another entrance nearby.

  She dug through the debris highest on the mound. Clay pottery. Cooking utensils. A crude comb. Had whatever lurked in the shadows killed the inhabitants? Something was still here. She could hear it breathing.

  The scent of danger clogged whatever fresh air she’d imagined, and her skin tingled as if a million eyes watched her from every direction.

  Okay, time to bail. She wasn’t taking on whatever this was alone on their turf. Her gaze surfed the dripping ceiling, searching for the source of her une
ase and finding nothing. She wanted to back slowly from the room, but not knowing which direction the danger was coming from, she wasn’t sure which way to face.

  As if sensing her pending retreat, the shadows moved. Kyana charged off in the direction from which she’d come. This time, she didn’t take it slow. She summoned her Vampyric strength to push her way through the water, leaping and bounding toward the exit.

  When she stood beneath the opening, she skidded to a halt. She strained her neck, trying to see the sun. Eerie, skin-crawling grunts were closing in, accompanied by countless slaps of water splashing in her direction. She’d have to risk it.

  Unlike Ryker, she didn’t need to climb her way out of the hole. Pressing herself as low to the ground as possible, she jumped and made the vertical ascension gracefully, landing just outside the opening before falling to her knees. Dusk and exhaustion greeted her. She didn’t have time to rejoice over not being deep-fried. The creatures below were close enough now that she could smell them. The stench of shit hadn’t come from actual fecal matter. It had come from whatever was hunting her.

  She swung around, frantically grabbing for the hatch, desperate to lock whatever was chasing her inside. She slammed the lid closed, but before the lock could catch, the hatch exploded off its hinges. It soared overhead, clattering into the trees, removing all hopes of locking the beasts inside. She caught the faintest glimpse of a white hand protruding from the opening before she was on her feet again and running back toward the clearing. She leaped over fallen logs, forced her way through crude paths. Vines and branches whipped at her face, her arms, her legs. Thorns ripped at her breasts and sliced at her thighs. Illusion Charm or no, sheer determination not to die bare-ass naked kept her moving.

  “Ryker!” She hoped her voice would carry on the wind.

  Only the snarls of her pursuers answered.

  Kyana risked a quick glance over her shoulder. There had to be dozens behind her, but they were moving in a blur, making it impossible to get a good look at them. They moved through the trees, trying to surround her. They were strong. And fast. And blindingly white.