Ruby Shadows Read online

  I thought about it…and rejected the idea. If I was walking about Hell with a ten foot tall, cloven-hoofed, forked-tongued monster, I really didn’t want to know it. Ignorance is bliss and all that…

  “We’re here,” he murmured, breaking my train of thought. “When the guards begin to move, the gates will open. You and I will slip through and be on our way.”

  “All right.” I didn’t much like the idea of “slipping through” a huge gate guarded by enormous, muscular, beast-like demons, but there didn’t seem to be much choice.

  As if on cue, the vast iron gates swung silently open, emitting a gust of hot, dry air that smelled faintly of burning. They were so colossal I thought the mechanism that moved them must be the size of a small city. Or maybe they were opened and closed by some kind of dark magic. Whatever the case, the moment the gates swung wide, the two huge guards lumbered inside, carrying their pitchforks—which looked about the size of telephone poles—casually over their shoulders.

  “It’s time,” Laish murmured to me. Up until then, we had been keeping to the wall and the long shadows it cast. Now he took me firmly by the hand and pulled me right through the middle of the gates.

  “Uh, shouldn’t we keep to the side?” I asked, out of the corner of my mouth.

  “More chance of running into one of the guards,” he said. “Go ahead of me, Gwendolyn—once you are past the threshold, they cannot turn you away and danger is more likely to come from behind.”

  “Fine,” I muttered. I felt incredibly vulnerable stepping out ahead of him but I did it anyway. The space we went through felt as wide as a football field—though it was probably only the size of a tennis court. I kept my head down, looking at my feet. Ho-hum, nothing to see here. Just a subservient concubine just out for a stroll with her demonic master…

  And that was when I heard the growling.

  Abandoning my subservient routine, I looked up…and up…and up, into the eyes of a huge, bristling dog. At least, I thought it was a dog. Except no kind of dog I ever heard of grows as large as a horse. Also, I’m pretty sure the American Kennel Club doesn’t recognize any breed that has three heads—which this dog had. So when I say I looked into its eyes, I mean I looked into all six of them. And every single one was filled with a murderous desire to rip me apart like a piece of beef jerky.

  I’ve never been a dog person—witches and cats go together like peanut butter and jelly—which is why Grams and I always had at least one feline stalking around the house. But even if I had been a canine enthusiast, I don’t think I could have gotten too enthusiastic about the beast which was blocking my way and growling at me with all three heads. In fact, I was about as far from enthusiastic as I could get—I was terrified.

  “Laish,” I whispered, my voice suddenly dry. “What’s going on? I thought you said there was more danger from behind?”

  “What’s going on is that some fool has gone and left Cerberus off his leash again.” He sounded more irritated than anything else. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you,” he added.

  “Um, thanks…” I still couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper and I didn’t dare take my eyes off the huge beast. All three heads were still growling and snarling and two of them were drooling on the ground. I couldn’t help noticing that where the ropey strings of saliva touched the broad black paving stones, little wisps of steam arose. Either the dog-thing’s spit was supernaturally hot or some kind of acid. Neither option seemed very comforting.

  Suddenly the dog lunged at me, all three heads barking in a deafening cacophony.

  “Oh, God!” I jumped back instinctively, my heart pounding, though I knew there was no way I could outrun the huge thing.

  “No!” Laish was suddenly between us. “No, Cerberus!” he repeated, slapping aside one of the snarling, barking heads as casually as anyone else might swat a fly. Then he added a word in that harsh language that hurt my ears.

  At once the three headed dog flopped down on the ground and began to whimper as though it was in pain. It looked up at Laish with big, sad puppy dog eyes which might have melted my heart if there hadn’t been six of them.

  “That’s right,” Laish frowned at the creature. “You must never threaten her again. Gwendolyn is mine and I will not see her harmed.”

  The dog seemed to understand this. It rolled over on its back as though begging to have its massive tummy scratched. I was almost tempted to do it—the change in the big dog was from night to day. He looked so sad and contrite and really, almost loveable, I could scarcely believe he would hurt me now.

  As I watched him, the huge thing whined again and made a little movement toward me with one of its massive, dinner-plate sized paws. Come play with me, I could almost hear it saying. Sorry I scared you—just doing my job and guarding the gates.

  “Hey, boy,” I murmured. “Are you really just a big softie?”

  The dog made another appealing little whine at the back of one of its throats, as though agreeing with me. Well, maybe he was just being protective of his territory. As I said before, I’m not much of a dog person but I had dated a guy for a little while who had a Rottweiler/Pitt bull mix. The thing was as ugly and scary as any animal you’d ever want to meet but once it had recognized that I wasn’t a threat, it had been a very sweet companion. In fact, I’d been sorrier to leave the dog than the guy, when we finally broke up.

  “I think somebody wants his tummy scratched,” I said.

  The dog barked playfully and almost seemed to be grinning at me, its long pink tongues hanging out of all three mouths as it panted eagerly.

  I was stepping forward with one hand raised when Laish took me by the wrist and pulled me back.

  “I wouldn’t,” he said blandly. “Cerberus is not to be trusted.”

  “He’s just protecting his territory,” I protested. “Now that you calmed him down it should be fine.”

  “He would like you to think so—until you got within biting distance.” Laish gestured at the massive dog. “Then he would take your head from your shoulders. He has been trained to smell human flesh—that’s all he eats.”

  “Seriously?” I suddenly felt sick.

  “Oh, yes. He is actually most helpful—he keeps souls from escaping from Hell and for the most part, he keeps humans out. By any means possible. But even if he didn’t bite your head from your body, there are other things to consider.”

  “What other things? Besides his three heads and his taste for human flesh?” I demanded.

  “His tail.” Laish nodded at the back end of the huge animal. “Watch his tail, Gwendolyn. It will show you his true intentions.”

  As he spoke, I saw a large black cobra rise up. It hovered, hissing over the shaggy belly I had just been going to scratch and I realized it was connected to Cerberus. It was actually part of him.

  “Ugh.” I took another step back. “Hell is worse than I imagined, so far.”

  “This, mon ange, is but the tip of the iceberg. There is much more to come,” Laish said grimly. “But for now, let us—”

  Before he could finish a massive demon with dark maroon skin and twisted horns rode up on a snorting black horse even bigger than Cerberus.

  “Who dares to pass through the Great Barrier unannounced?” he thundered. He was huge—easily two feet taller than the massive demons we’d seen guarding the gates earlier. “Cerberus!” he growled, swinging off the horse and stalking over to where the three headed dog was still sprawled in front of Laish. “Is this female a mortal being with an intact soul? Why did you allow her to pass through the gate? Why have you not ripped her limb from limb and consumed her?”

  The dog whined again and barked sharply at the massive demon. I bit my lip and crossed my arms over my chest protectively. Great, we’d been busted trying to sneak into Hell. What was going to happen now? Laish was just a minor demon. Would he get in trouble? Would he—?

  “Cerberus did not attack the female because she is mine and I forbid him to harm her,” Laish said, ste