Bishop Derrick stood up.

  “Joseph, prepare the carriage immediately, we travel as soon as you are ready. Tell Sarah that she’s to inform anyone who comes that I am not here. Micheal, is the devil dead?”

  The breathless Forcreek nodded, and some tension went out of the bishop until he regained his breath.

  “One of them is,” he said hurriedly, also tripping over the words. “But there’s evidence, there might have been more than one? And there’s been other sightings of things, and no one is sure if they are devils or if they aren’t.”

  “Brilliant,” I said. “Any who was behind this one?”

  “It wasn’t the Fme,” Forcreek said before pausing. “Let me correct myself. No one observed any horns jutting from the hood the killer was wearing as they murdered Nightsister Lelieth.”

  “Baltaren’s representative,” Derrick said, although the name was a clear giveaway. “One of the others whose church only had a single member volunteer.”

  The question of who else might be left on that list would have to wait for ter. Assuming they weren’t being killed right now. And that ck of horns meant nothing when horns could be sawn off or even just short enough or curved in on themselves. Easier to fit inside a hood, unlike mine infuriatingly enough.

  We were in the hallway now, following Derrick, the only concession to Forecreek’s tired state holding back her pace.

  “The murder was in Dirgewater,” he got out while we continued.

  A very low-css neighborhood, one that didn’t have the best of reputations. A step up from the Infernal Quarter for many only because it cked Infernals. Also on the other side of the Nover from Bishop Derrick’s estate, and about ten miles away as well.

  “Did you run all of it?” I asked incredulously.

  “Horse,” Forcreek got out. “It might have run away? Might have forgotten to tie it up.”

  “Enough jabbering,” Derrick said. “The stable house is built into the house, just a little further ahead.”

  Stable house. Having a house with a private carriage was rich enough, but one integrated into your own home? The definition of pity was being stretched quite a bit for all of this, as we traveled into a miniature stable, Joseph already at the driver’s board of a carriage with a pair of horses ready to go. Strange, usually that would take longer unless more servants had already cleared off. We all got inside, myself smming the door behind us.

  “This had to be someone inside,” I snapped as the carriage got underway, people on the street swearing at us as Joseph dove into the main road without any caution. We were rushing down the street, and I could only hope he was talented as a driver. “Ignoring the ck of fighting from the dead in the other two cases, do you think the Fme should know where each of these three was every second of the day?”

  I could believe in them being given the identities of their targets, a powerful devil could know those who had been poking into the Hells and discover who they were. To also know their daily routines well enough to know when to ambush them? If a devil had enough influence to spy on each of them throughout their days? Probably not.

  Then again, given the power Vesper cimed it had, perhaps. Still, they didn’t need to know about that.

  The inside of the carriage was uncomfortably quiet, neither of them willing to speak up as the streets went by. Still reluctant to admit what was clearly reality?

  “Perhaps,” Derrick said, not quite willing to entertain that fact yet. “It’s early to tell. I’m more worried about the pace of these, the quicker the killer goes the more likely they care less for the colteral.”

  Forcreek scowled, and after a moment finally voiced his thoughts. “Despicable. They showed such care at the beginning, surely they would show the same?”

  “There’s a timer,” I said, and the two looked my way, questions forming on their lips. “Not in the diabolical sense. If they know your group exists, and there’s no denying that now, they know it’s a limited amount of time before this opportunity closes. They’ll need to pick off as many of you as possible before you gather together, which should have happened already!”

  Derrick coughed awkwardly, trying to come up with an excuse.

  Piercing screams interrupted her, and the carriage rocked as something nded on the carriage roof with a thump. Joseph yelled something in a panic, just before his voice was cut off with a sickening crunch.

  I had my head outside the window in an instant, and ended up face-to-face with the devil.

  Eight feet from haunch to head, a diabolic facsimile of a dog with spines as fur that shuddered as it chewed on its prize, saber-like teeth mashing as twelve eyes opened on the head, mismatched, discolored, and some leaking grey puss as its paws dug into the carriage, wood splintering. A second mouth opened above its main one, thin needle-like teeth opening along a seam that split eyes in half as screams emerged from within.

  Joseph’s severed head y inside the devil’s gaping central maw, staring bnkly at me as fangs chewed into the skin and flesh, gnawing on it like a perverse pet treat.

  Not a hellhound, too thin and scrawny for that. Good. Fire would have ended us quicker than this thing had ended Joseph.

  Fake brethren, The Imp hissed. Dross wearing gutter flesh because they ck anything else. Weak.

  Well, some good news. I’d been worried about these being actual devilish creatures but these were weak, supposedly.

  Joseph’s corpse slumped over in the carriage seat, the bloody stump of his neck falling across the top of the carriage. The devil chomped down, skull shattering in its jaws as it leaped down next to the carriage doors.

  Our saving grace. Without anyone at the reins holding them back and danger at their rear, the horses took off. I swore as the demon’s cws struck, narrowly missing me and digging into the wood of the door instead.

  “Forcreek, Bishop, on the roof,” I yelled, already grabbing to climb up. “Imp, information?”

  Bottom-feeding scum, The Imp snarled. They get gathered when even refuse is needed. They scavenge the remnants of the lowest of souls, here and in the hells, consuming them and using them as sustenance. Barely above animals.

  The devil snarled behind us, distance growing but that wouldn’t st. Already cwed feet dug into the road, stones scattering as it unched itself at the carriage. It nded ten feet away, already propelling itself into a second leap.

  Left hand and tail gripping tightly to the carriage, my right hand aimed the revolver. The carriage’s swaying did me no favors as I pulled the trigger, the revolver roaring as it jerked back.

  I didn’t hit the head, but the bullet rammed into the flesh between the neck and the arm, viscera spraying out the back of its shoulder. It yowled as it crumpled to the ground, stones sent flying as its face ground against the rough road’s surface.

  I pulled the hammer back, trying to steady myself as I hung off the side of the carriage. The wind whipped at me, the rattling of the frame a reminder of how little this ride was under anyone’s control.

  Pulling myself up a little more, but the devil was already back on its feet. It didn’t care about the bleeding wound in it, moving without a sign of pain as it started closing the distance again.

  I aimed the revolver, sweating as the carriage suddenly swerved to the right. Breath. Calm. Hold my breath, letting only the motion of the carriage sway.

  Pull. Recoil. Agonized scream as the devil’s cw flew, severed near the base of its paw. The dagger-like talon flew, but it powered through, only one leap away.

  My next shot was panicked, nowhere near as accurate as the carriage swerved, my grip on the carriage loosening. A chunk of its facsimile ear vanished, blown into chunks. It leapt one more time. I couldn’t pull the hammer back fast enough.

  From inside the carriage, a dark rapier punched out, a thin needle bde ramming through the open window. It rammed into the side of the devil’s head and where the bde touched, skin split, tearing open and turning ashen. Flesh disintegrated as it moved past, a forming cloud of bck fkes trailing behind.

  I fttened against the carriage as it swung away, the devil continuing dead ahead, yowling as flesh split and fked into the open air. It nded on all fours, yowling as we rushed past, half it’s skull id bare as flesh continued to fke.

  Our carriage came to a halt, and as we slowed I could hear screams and whinnies of panic and fear. The devil was in front now, and in front of it was a wall of carts and carriages, horses straining against their restraints to get away from it. Pulling their vehicles to and fro, it formed a barrier of wood that would be impossible for us to get through.

  “The reins,” Bishop Derrick said, but I already was scurrying for the seat.

  The horses had the right idea, trying to get away, but ours were trying to turn around in opposite directions. The devil hissed, more of its skull bared. For all that its flesh disintegrated though, it didn’t seem bothered.

  Forcreek had beat me to the reins from the other side, settling into the seat.

  “Don’t just sit there,” he yelled at me. “Shoot the-”

  His words were drowned out by the sound of three shots in rapid succession, recoiling away as the thunderous echoes bombarded his ears. The hound devil yowled as its forelegs burst into gore and shattered bones, its half-bare skull smming into the ground with a thud. Its jaw eviscerated its tongue as it y there crippled.

  Low-level devil. Lucky us. Still deadly, as Joeseph had unfortunately found out, but not dangerous to me. This raised the question of why would you send it to target people here? Random devil just happening to pick our carriage? Nonsense.

  I was about to reload and drive a bullet between its eyes when howls sounded around us. Horrible, broken things, screams and cries of a dozen animals yered underneath the howl itself, the chorus of a hundred dead prey. Screams of children, of parents, pained gurgles. Kills cimed and taken in this world, remnants of their souls taken back to the Hells, forever trapped inside.

  Another of the devils lept off a rooftop, followed by a third, nding near their crippled comrade. Derrick finished her prayer, a line of shooting out of the window that ate the light in its path before consuming the crippled hound.

  Forcreek finally mastered the horses, getting us turned around as I loaded bullets into my revolver.

  “Diabolism them away!” He yelled at me over the receding screams.

  “Yes, diabolism on devils,” I yelled right back. “If they aren’t immune to fire I’ll eat my coat, and rot means touching them. Hells to that!”

  One of the devils nded on the roof, mouth open as it lunged at me.

  “Sister sister, you’ve torn your-”

  My saber swung at the devil’s head and it ducked to the side, its sing-song recital turned to frustrated hissing as I carved near its eye, slicing it in twain. Both halves fell out, but the devil hardly seemed to care.

  Two more blows drove it back further along the carriage’s roof as it continued racing down the street.

  “Do not stop!” I yelled at Forcreek, then drew the revolver.

  The devil scurried over the back edge of the carriage, scrambling out of sight and I bit back a curse.

  “Bishop!” I yelled at the open carriage window. “Back of the carriage!”

  No response except for a sudden whimper from back there, and the devil pulled itself back up, snarls mixed with crying from a half-dozen voices.

  “Traitor-kin, you betray your own-”

  My saber interrupted that accusation, slicing down into its head, and carving a bloody furrow through the meat. My hood shed out next, sending its head back with a crack. Anything to keep it and those razor-sharp spines on its body further away. Some of them fred, flexing as they backed away. Poisoned? They looked hollow.

  The second one was keeping pace with us, mocking ughter coming out of its open mouth as it lunged at the horses, snarling.

  Forcreek veered to the side and I cursed as I went off-baalnce, tail grabbing at one of the handrails as the hound lunged forward.

  I sliced with my saber, but its jaws closed around my wrist, and I screamed as its teeth sliced through flesh. My other hand reflexively grabbed at its eyes, hitting one of its rgest, a glowing orange that burst into pus as I sent a tendril of rot through it. With a howl, it released my hand, a bloodied torn mess as it writhed on the roof.

  I didn’t give it a respite, falling on top of it, hand forced into the widening hole where its eye had been. Flesh bubbled and popped as it burst apart, turning into a gory, sticky mess. Teeth popped out of its jaw with wet noises as the third one lept up onto the roof only to fall with a snarl while the carriage came to a stop.

  Breathing heavily, I looked at the bubbling mess, and-

  “How much do you think you can make out of this?” Versalicci asked me as we looked at the collected mess from the fight.

  It still bubbled in spots, flesh continuing to necrotize as traces of Infernal energy continued working on it.

  “Not much,” I admitted. “Flesh is necrotized, very little workable we can use for repcement organs. Perhaps as food for the devils?”

  -forced me to look away. No. No trips down memory ne today.

  I rolled off the roof, falling to the street surface below, stalking to where the st hound y, a trio of neat holes punched in its head, face frozen in mid-snarl.

  I cut at the hound’s neck with my saber, slicing through flesh to no response even as I cut down to bone. I paused, then pulled it out and grabbed the hound's body, holding its head in pce with my hoof as I yanked the body.

  “Do you have to do that?” Forcreek protested.

  “One of them didn’t seem very bothered with half its face missing,” I countered. “I’m not going to assume it's dead till I’ve broken something.”

  It was painful work, especially with blood still streaming from my other hand. Nothing had fallen loose, but those teeth had carved holes in that I’d need to treat after. Both of us being from the hells only mattered so much when it came to poison and disease.

  With a final wrench and a crack of bones, something severed. The head didn’t come off, but the body hung off it in such a way the cord had to be severed. I let them both fall to the ground, taking a moment to just breathe.

  The sound of gunfire broke the silence.

  The stones underneath me shattered as bullets ricocheted. Pain fshed in my legs, and I stumbled as I moved back, making for the carriage. The carriage door shuddered, shattering as multiple bullets punched through, and Derrick screamed inside.

  Forcreek was up in the carriage bench, frozen as the volley ended and I stumbled towards the carriage, pain coursing through my leg with each step.

  “Move!” I yelled, reaching the back.

  The carriage jumped into motion and I barely pulled myself up before it started racing down the street. Back towards Bishop Derrick’s manor.