Devil’s Kiss Read Online Free Page B

was something else here upon which he might gamble. Leo had not gotten to a sixth cup of wine back at the Gypsy camp, so that bet could not be won or lost.
    A gleam at the base of the leaning columns caught his attention. He slowly neared and peered closer. Yes, something dully metallic appeared on the ground. As he edged closer, he saw that the metal was, in fact, a large, thick rusted ring, the size of a dinner plate. Whit thought at first the ring simply lay in the weeds. A second ring, exactly the same, lay some three feet away. Closer inspection showed the rings were attached to something in the ground. Whit crouched to get a better view.
    “Come and have a look,” he called to his friends.
    The men assembled around him, and the light from their collective torches revealed that the iron ring was affixed at one end to a large, square stone block. Whit handed his torch to Edmund and cleared away the rocks, weeds, and debris that nearly obscured the block, with Bram and Leo assisting. Soon, the block was completely uncovered. It was roughly three feet across and three feet long, with a metal ring set at each end.
    “Looks like a door,” said John.
    “If it’s a door,” Bram answered, “then we should open it.” His voice sounded slightly different from normal, a deeper, harsher rasp.
    At once it seemed to Whit to be not only the most sensible thing to do, but the most essential. A burning need to see what was behind the door seized him, as strong as any need to gamble. He gripped one iron ring, and Leo gripped the other after giving his torch to Bram.
    “On my count,” said Whit. “One, two, now! ”
    Both he and Leo pulled with all their strength. Whit’s muscles strained and pulled against the fabric of his shirt and coat, against the doeskin of his breeches as he dug his heels into the ground and fought to wrench open the heavy stone door. He grunted with exertion through his gritted teeth. Pull, pull! He had to get the door open.
    Bram, Edmund, and John shouted their encouragement, their eyes aglow with the same fevered need to breach the door.
    A deep, heavy wrenching sound rumbled up from the ground, as if the very foundations of the world were being rent asunder. Whit and Leo pulled harder, encouraged by the sound. Inches of stone emerged up as the stone slab rose in clouds of dust. Suddenly, with a final growl, the stone broke free from its earthen prison.
    Whit and Leo heaved the block to one side, and it thudded on the ground, barely missing John’s toes. But John didn’t complain. He, like the other Hellraisers, was all too captivated by the sight of the opened door.
    A black square, the doorway, and through it the scent of long-buried secrets came wafting up. It wasn’t a damp smell, rather hot and dry, the scent of singed fabric and burnt paper. Whit grabbed his torch from Bram and thrust it through the doorway in the ground. The firelight illuminated precipitous stone stairs that disappeared into the gloom.
    “A hollow hill,” murmured Whit.
    “I’ve read about them.” John gazed avidly down. “From ancient legends about fairy kingdoms.”
    They paused for a moment, each taking in the wonderment of an actual hollow hill. In silent agreement, they descended the stairs. Their boots scraped over the stone, and the sound echoed as they delved farther. They found themselves in an underground chamber. Whit could not imagine what kind of ancient tools had the strength to carve a large chamber out of solid rock, yet somehow, some ancient laborer had done just that. The room itself was almost entirely bare, just a floor and sloping walls that arched overhead. Whit was surprised at the height of the ceiling. He was a tall man, yet he did not have to stoop or bend in the chamber. Instead, he stood at his full height as he and his friends slowly turned in circles as they gazed at the incredible room hewn from a stone hill.
    Yet the chamber was not empty.
    “We have a companion, lads,” said