Chapter Five

The wraith is closer when we wake. He still doesn't dare to come too close, but he is closer than before, his gaze flicking between us and often lingering on me in a speculative manner lighting their depths though his face reveals nothing of his inner thoughts. I study him whenever I have the chance as we walk through the ruined temple. He is flickering less into his shadow form than previously, so his silhouette is easy to see between the candlelight of the inner temple that always seems to be lit and the dim sunlight filtering down through the cracks and missing sections of the temple's roof.

In the temple courtyard where the sunlight more freely shines down through the iron grating that extends as a protective barrier from one high wall to the other, his pale sculpted features are more defined even within the fog that slowly trickles into the courtyard, and the darkness of his silhouette even sharper and starker. He seems to suck up the light, leaving the blackness of his garb and hair like a black hole. He is like a dark angel of the abyss or ancient, night born celestial standing before me.

I would like to say that I am merely sizing up my prey in the manner that I frequently catch Jugong doing but that would be further from the truth than I would be comfortable admitting to. There is an otherworldly quality that seems to define him and sets him apart even here where the average human is merely a civilian ghost among numerous other beings who inhabit this world. Considering that I've been on the job for a few years now since my death, you would think that I would've become accustomed to seeing males so alien to me—especially since his appearance is not that odd. Aside the small black horns on his brow, he looks like any other attractive man, or perhaps some sort of pop idol, that girls my age had lusted over.

But that otherness that stems from him being a primordial race of beings born of the first energies of death and destruction is uncontainable and impossible to ignore. Even when his flames are tamped down, I can see still the subtle cold flicker of them in his gaze. Ice and shadows. Cold beauty with an icy touch so different to the warmth I cleave to when I am with Jugong. And yet, when Nygohl looks at me, those flames come alive and in the depths of the blue fire I swear that there is a scorching heat that seers into me that I can't help reacting to.

Regardless, I have to admit that he's definitely what I would have called my type. In fact, if this had been before I would have privately claimed "I lick him he's mine" dibs in my inner thoughts the moment I laid eyes on him.

"He is prey, not a prospective mate," Jugong unexpectedly grumbles as I lean forward and drink my fill from a natural spring that the temple courtyard seems to have been constructed around. "You look at the wraith too much."

My lips twitch with amusement as I straighten and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "Choosing a mate is not exactly in my immediate plans. Don't tell me you're jealous," I tease.

I wait for the strange growly coughing sound of the Giwung's laugh but Jugong doesn't even crack a smile. If anything, his expression grows more severe, his nostrils flaring. His wings and long tail twitch simultaneously, letting me know that he is a little more than just annoyed.

"You say that, but I know what I can smell and hear," he huffs.

Now I'm also frowning and feeling a little defensive. He can't possibly be able to determine anything from scent or smell, especially when I am having conflicting feelings here regarding his strange appeal. And most definitely, absolutely do not want a mate. I have enough on my plate without trying to navigate the feelings and needs of a male in addition to those I agreed to be saddled with when I decided to lure in Jugong. I would have to be insane.

I blame this forest and most especially being stuck in this temple with the haunting allure of the wraith rather than just being able to do my job and get it done with. I've never been forced into prolonged proximity with my prey before—it's not my department. I bag them and call for the pickup. But Nygohl's trick has turned such a simple methodology entirely on its head. I dry my hands on my pant's leg and squint over at the wraith in question.

"So what's the deal here?" I ask, gesturing to the grating above me. "What's with the birdcage? Just what sort of temple is this, anyway? You said that there was more to see but aren't explaining anything."

Nygohl turns toward me and his lips curve wickedly. "You are right," he agrees with shocking ease. Spreading his arms wide, he slowly circles in place, gesturing to the entirety of the space around us. "Although many of the carvings and décor came later before the temple was abandoned altogether by its keepers, this place was built to very specific specifications designed for the Haskan's purpose. Everything within this temple is designed towards those ends. As for that," he says as he points at the grating, his smile widening devilishly, "do you want to see?"

I squint at him suspiciously but then shrug. It is grating and pretty damn solid from all appearances. What exactly could he even do with it to be worried about? All the same, I ease my hand onto my blaster and take a step back closer to a snarling Jugong as I coolly return his smile.

"Go for it, Houdini."

He blinks slowly, his smile slipping slightly as his mind tries to figure that one out. Gods, sometimes I miss simply conversing with other humans—or at very least those demons and entities that work closely with them. One of them would be bound to know who the fuck Houdini is. Since I don't feel like explaining, I roll my hand in silent encouragement for him to proceed with his demonstration. His brows beetle for a moment, looking adorably confused, but plasters a faint smile back on his face as he lifts his hand over his head. The spirit flame ignites in his palm and steadily begins to grow, casting a paleblue light over the fog gathered around us and drifting from above in slow, gentle streams.

"I actually initially discovered this when I was flying overhead," he explains in a low voice. "It was startling to say the least."

I raise my eyebrows politely, not entirely impressed. As pretty as it looks, I'm not seeing anything that would get anyone I know worked up over. Jugong scoffs in a soft coughing sound that makes my lips twitch. Nygohl doesn't seem to be paying us any attention, however. His gaze is focused on the grating now as his spirit flame grows brighter and brighter as the flame flickers and jumps and grows reaching for the beams. Sighing, I fold my arms over my chest and lean back against the wall that is Jugong's chest as I watch the wraith working hard to prove some kind of point.

I really don't get paid enough for all of this. I only hope that if I humor him enough that just maybe when this is all done, he won't kick up a fuss and will come along peacefully for the transportation back to Lithera.

I am about to tell him to give up so that we move on to whatever creepy shit he wants to try and scare me with something shifts so suddenly overhead that I jerk back violently, my elbows slamming back into Jugong as I practically try to trample to make space between and whatever is now diving for the protective grating like a massive, clawed hand. Twisted and gnarled with the branch of an ancient oak, it reaches for us with three long fingers and a crooked thumb, each claw nearly as long and thick as my thigh. A low, rattling moan follows that only makes the wails of the dead growl louder in result until the thing screams in frustration as its claws impact the grating with enough force to snap several long claws, splintering them so that they fall harmlessly within the courtyard while the things shrieks, its clawed hand driving on the barrier as it is just joined by another, and the another.

Eight twisted hands batter the grating making it groan in protest, but it holds firm, raining broken pieces of what appears almost like wood on top of us. Jugong extends a wing protectively over my head as his other wing curls tightly around me to hold me in place against him so that I'm not hit by the debris raining down on us. Meanwhile, Nygohl hasn't moved even an inch. His head tipped back, he is watching the angry display of whatever monster is lurking outside of these walls with a small, knowing smile.

"What the hell is that?" I shout over the cacophony of monstrous moans and the slam of the large, inhuman hands.

His head tilts toward me even if he doesn't look my way, but it is enough to know that he is listening and hears me. He shrugs casually, his smile growing wider.

"I am not entirely certain if it has a name. It is some sort of native tree monstrosity. I suspect that they inhabit the forest throughout but appear to be slow breeding and long-lived and tend toward living a solitary existence—all the better for the rest of the underworld, I imagine," he murmurs. "Clearly a predator that responds to thermal signatures. My guess is that the temple's presence drew it and the grating was installed after some unfortunate… accidents, before it was finally abandoned."

Nygohl's chuckle is poorly timed as the hands slam down again at that moment and for the first time I'm realizing that these are all likely coming from a singular massive creature lurking within the heavy fog, and I don't know whether I should murder Nygohl for luring us into a death trap, or kiss him for getting us into the temple before that thing out there could make quick work of us the moment we got within range for it to sense Jugong's crazy-high body heat. The hands flatten with a reluctant groan of displeasure, dropping away like dying moths one by one.

"I can see why this place was abandoned," I reply drily and shiver as I pluck some moss from my hair, trying not to react to the fact that it likely had fallen from the creature and was part of its body. "Ents from hell is not exactly a great selling point."

I peer speculatively at the walls noting the elegant masonry and a large, ornate fountain at the center of the courtyard across from the small pool of the spring. The foundation clearly draws from the spring and was designed to impress any supposed visitor. Whoever they might have imagined that it to be in this fucked up place. Each wall is adorned with figures of infernal goddesses, each veiled like that of the queen in the reliefs, each staring sightlessly ahead toward the fountain in the center of the room, their hands lifted and bearing their different insignia that I vaguely identify as relating to the occult arts.

Also, not my department.

At each end of the room, however, there is a simple arched doorway—one that leads from the direction from which we came, and the other leading to a new destination. Yet there is something about this courtyard that suggests that there is a lot more to it than there seems.

The ghost fire winks out, and the wraith dusts his hands along his cloak. He's still wearing that unnerving smile that makes my stomach clench with unease and a subtle heat of something else beneath it.

"Ready to move on?" he inquires as he turns toward us expectantly. I stare back at him cautiously, uncertain whether or not he will try to kill me in the end. The unholy light in his eyes grows brighter as their flames leap eagerly as he launches into explanation. "The entry way and the rooms that extend off of it for visiting pilgrims is more just advertising for those same visitors and of little importance, but beyond the courtyard… its purpose begins to unfold quickly." He holds out his hand, gesturing to the far door that I had been looking at just a moment earlier. "It awaits just over there."

Of course it does.

My lips thin in frustration and I fight against the tight hold of Jugong's wing hugging me to him so that I can stubbornly put my hands on my hips.

"This is feeling a lot like a ride through a haunted house on Halloween. Why don't you just get to the point and spare me a trip through the Murder House here."

To my frustration he doesn't speak but merely shakes his head as he fades to a shadow and slips further away before materializing on the other side of the room and walking to the door. It seems that he is giving us little choice but to keep playing his game.

"Nothing had better jump out at me," I mutter sourly.

"If it does, I will sever its head with a snap of my teeth," Jugong solemnly assures me.

As sweet as the sentiment is, my nose wrinkles in disgust at the thought of having something foul caught between his teeth. Especially with his proclivity of keeping his head so close to mine even if it forces him to bend forward uncomfortably so that he is in optimal sniffing distance.

"Come on," I grumble. "And don't eat anything dead. I don't want to be smelling that for the rest of the time Nygohl confines us here."

Jugong huffs disdainfully but he doesn't protest the insult too loudly other than to inform that he isn't a scavenger. I call bullshit on that because I've seen him eat some pretty questionable stuff, but I am choosing to be the bigger person as I make a face at him and proceed to follow after the wraith, leaving the Giwung to follow me. Even so, I make a mental note to go back and check that fountain later—just to satisfy my curiosity—as I follow the wraith deeper in the temple.