Hellfire Read online

  Table of Contents

  Hellfire

  Llaughing Llama Media, LLC

  Other Books by MH BONHAM

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The End

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  Chapter One

  Pick up your own copy of Prophecy of Swords now on Amazon!

  Other Books by MH BONHAM

  Hellfire

  Book Nine of the Ironspell Chronicles

  MH Bonham

  Llaughing Llama Media, LLC

  © 2020 by M. H. Bonham.

  Published by Llaughing Llama Media, LLC.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental.

  Cover by M.H. Bonham.

  Printed in the United States of America

  9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  Other Books by MH BONHAM

  The Ironspell Chronicles Series

  That Dragon was in No Way my Fault (Book One)

  A Date with a Werewolf (Book Two)

  Alchemist Rules (Book Three)

  Elfshot (Book Four)

  The Trouble with Bats (Book Five)

  Wolfsbane (Book Six)

  Oathbreaker (Book Seven)

  Winter of Our Discontent (Book Eight)

  Hellfire (Book Nine)

  The Swords of Destiny Series

  Prophecy of Swords

  Runestone of Teiwas

  Lachlei

  Daemons and Shadows

  Serpent Singer and Other Stories

  The King’s Champion

  Other Books

  Howling Dead

  Samurai Son

  Chapter One

  Most people don’t get to visit Hell before they die. How did I get this lucky?

  I stared at the cellphone for a moment before replaying the message left on my voicemail, putting it on speaker.

  “Ironspell, hand over Fenrir. We have your mother…” Azazel, the fallen angel, growled. “…bring the bitch…let him hear her…”

  Sabine, my mom, sounded more pissed than frightened. “Bob…don’t listen to these fuckers…oww…” The phone dropped and I heard the sounds of a scuffle. “…don’t you fucking hit me…asshole!”

  Azazel came back on. “If you want to see her alive, call us…oww! Bitch! Stop that…!”

  The message ended.

  Luna, my fiancée and daughter of Fenrir, came out of the shower, drying her long, blonde hair. She wore gray sweatpants and a blue t-shirt with wolves frolicking across it. “Was that Azazel?” She stared at the phone.

  “Yeah,” I said, wondering how much she had heard with her werewolf ears. “They kidnapped Sabine and want to exchange her for Fenrir.”

  She glared at me. “You’re not thinking of…?”

  “No, no, no. I would never trade your dad.” I held up my hands. Look, the thought did pop into my mind, but I quickly quashed it. Fenrir was the Wolf of Ragnarok. If he were let out of my control, he would bring about the end of the Multiverse. A bad day for everyone, which made me wonder why the Watchers wanted him.

  Never mind that Fenrir was an okay dude, and Luna’s father; bringing on Ragnarok wasn’t exactly on my to-do list for my lifetime. However long that might be.

  Luna relaxed with a sigh. I took a deep breath. She could be downright scary when she wanted to. “Sorry, I just had to be sure.”

  “No worries. I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to rescue her.”

  Our supposedly locked door flung open and Fenrir, in his much smaller human form walked in. With me naked and sitting on the bed, and his daughter, towel drying her hair after coming from the shower.

  I threw the covers across my lap, feeling more than just a tad uncomfortable.

  But I’ve gotten ahead of myself, haven’t I? My name is Bob Ironspell-Cabas, although everyone, with the exception of my mom, calls me Ironspell. I am a Denver police cop that got recently promoted to the Denver Wizard Task Force (or DWTF)—and no, the irony is not lost on me—and I’m now an immortal wizard, thanks to my acceptance of being Fenrir’s caretaker. I started out as a cop who knew a bunch of spells from the Internet and wizard magazines, saved the world at least twice, and somehow got wrapped up with the entire Norse pantheon. And the Christian pantheon—or is that monotheon? Okay, and I’ve had a bunch of Fallen Angels or Watchers who wanted to grab Fenrir, presumably to cause End Times, even though they claim the opposite. Can’t trust their word, really.

  Oh, and I’ve met a couple of archangels, too. So, don’t think only Hell has an interest in me.

  “Do you mind knocking?” I squeaked as I reached for my underwear and jeans.

  Fenrir had black hair and a clean shaven face. He had golden eyes that every werewolf had, that marked them as the powerful wolves they were. Fenrir in his human form towered over me—when I was standing—by several inches, and I’m not a short man at six foot flat. He was overly muscled even in this form, and wore jeans with a black t-shirt that said, “Wolves Rock!”

  Fenrir looked mostly annoyed. “Like I haven’t guessed what you two have been doing? The noise alone is enough to cause the dogs here to howl.”

  My face turned red and I sputtered. Damn those werewolf ears. Of course he had heard our lovemaking, even several rooms away.

  Due to our latest adventures, we were in Asgard, the universe of the Norse gods, and were staying in Tyr’s residence, Gladsheim. Tyr—for those who aren’t current on their Norse mythos—is the god of laws. He’s the order to Fenrir’s chaos. He also lost a hand to Fenrir by breaking an oath. Something you never want to do, or risk losing your power.

  “Oh, Daddy, don’t embarrass Ironspell.” Luna used her charming, little girl voice with him. “He’s so sweet for a non-shifter.”

  He turned his eyes to his daughter, and his gaze softened. “I know, he’s a good man. And I appreciate what he did in Muspelheim, with my rescue.” He paused. “But I heard Azazel over the phone. He has your mother?”

  Again, damn the werewolf hearing. “Uh, yeah.” There was no point in denying it. I managed to slip into my underwear and jeans. “He wants you.”

  “What are you going to do?” Fenrir stared at me hard.

  “I think you already know I’m not handing you over. But I have to think about how I’m going to rescue her.”

  My unofficial partner, Elryn, walked in. The Light Elf wore her standard battle armor and looked healthy, despite having been stripped of her powers, regaining those powers from another source, and then having her powers restored. “And you weren’t going to talk to any of us?”

  Damn Elven ears. They’re almost as bad as a werewolf’s.

  “Uh, I think I just heard the message.” I glared at her. “I haven’t planned anything.”

  “Why the Hell not?” Tuzren, my daemon, flew in. He was a two-and-a-half foot entity from another plane. Unlike the Watchers and Fallen Angels, he wasn’t a Christian demon, but a creature who had been summoned by some wizard, found him wanting, and left him to scavenge in our own Universe. I had found him Dumpster-divin
g, and took pity on him. He looked like a gargoyle, complete with horns, a demonic face, bat wings, and an arrow-shaped tail. He even had pebbly-gray skin.

  “Sheesh! Everybody out!” I stood up and waved them all to get the Hel out of our room. “We’ll talk about this after I get my shower.”

  They all stared at me.

  I glared again. “I mean it.”

  Fenrir shook his head and chuckled. He turned and nodded at the other two. “Come on. We’ll talk at breakfast.”

  “Some people’s kids…” Tuzren grumbled.

  Elryn laughed.

  The door closed and I stared at it. Luna sidled up to me and gave me a hug. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

  I kissed her, still feeling uneasy. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  ~ * ~

  The shower did wonders for my attitude, if not my hangover from the previous night. I had spent most of the night drinking and talking with my dad, Evrardin. He had died saving the world while mom was pregnant with me, which meant neither of us had seen each other. I knew he’d want to come along for the rescue, but that wouldn’t work. He had no corporeal presence in my Universe, that the Norse gods called Midgard. In fact, had he not been one of Tyr’s champions, he would’ve gone to Helheim, the Norse place of the dead. Unlike the Christian Hell, Helheim was a place of rest. People pretty much lived the way they did before they died; some actually got reincarnated after hanging out there for a while. But I digress.

  Dad would have to sit this one out. I was the only one in the family with a body.

  As I rinsed the soap off my sore muscles, I wondered what immortality had bought me. Gods can die, contrary to popular belief. It’s just ridiculously hard to kill them because they heal fast. I didn’t think I healed as fast as a god, but I knew I wouldn’t age as long as I held up my end of the bargain with Surtr, the Lord of the Fire Giants. Technically Surtr was a Jotun, but he was for all intents and purposes as powerful as one of the Aesir and Vanir, or Norse gods. Surtr and Freyr—who was the Vanir fertility god—were destined to kill each other during Ragnarok, as they had in previous Ragnaroks, making Surtr on-par with one of the heavyweight Vanir. I offered everyone a way out of the cycle by keeping Fenrir out of the Nine Worlds of the Multiverse.

  Now, the Watchers were looking to put us back in that cycle. In other words, bring about End Times, for some god-awful reason. Maybe they thought Fenrir would give them an edge. I seriously doubted it. After all, the prophecies point to the bad guys losing—and, if you subscribe to the Norse version—the world gets reborn and the whole cycle starts all over again.

  I turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the towel rack. Despite being in Asgard, Tyr’s home had modern amenities such as liquid soap, shampoo, toilets, showers, and electric razors. In other words, all the comforts of home. I guess the gods remodel as Humans invent more things. Clever ape-descendants that we are, we at least give them technology that they used to use magic for.

  And they say most mortals don’t have magic. Just get on the Internet and you’ve got more knowledge than the wisest man in ancient times. I rest my case.

  After drying myself off, shaving, and getting dressed, I now had a plan for rescuing Sabine, only I’d have to check with someone before I started. I chuckled as I looked at the new clothes Gladsheim gave me. Black jeans and a black t-shirt saying “Ninja in Training.” Okay, maybe the house knew something I didn’t?

  Yeah, Gladsheim is sentient. So is my Tiny House at Earth. Long story about that for a later time.

  I walked out of the bathroom and saw Luna had gone ahead to breakfast. Gladsheim already made the bed and a dozen Norwegian Elkhound puppies were sleeping on it, making it look like I had a gray comforter over the blue one. One of the puppies looked up at me sleepily and made a sweet whine. I walked over and rubbed his head gently before feeling a sharp nudge on my shin. The mom Elkhound was there, and I knelt down and rubbed her ears while she licked me.

  You had to like dogs if you stayed with either Tyr or his consort, Zisa. Gladsheim seethed with dogs, puppies, and wolves. In some ways it was odd because Tyr lost his hand to Fenrir for violating an oath, and Tyr was destined to die by Garmr, the Hellhound that guarded the gates of Helheim.

  I stood up and left the room, walking down the immense hall that separated Gladsheim’s main hall from the guest rooms. At that moment, a large gray, Alaskan Malamute walked up to me and nudged me hard. I petted him, but he seemed impatient, and continued to nudge me to the right. Then, he looked at me in the eyes. I nodded. “Okay, I get it. You want me to follow you.”

  The Malamute nodded. He led me past the gray stone walls covered with exquisite tapestries with images of various Sagas. He then nudged me toward an oaken door bound in iron. I pulled on the handle and walked through to see Fenrir, Tuzren, Elryn, Luna, Evrardin, Loki, and Tyr sitting at an oak table eating what looked like porridge from a nearby pot, a carved piece of meat, and pizza.

  Pizza? I blinked. “Is that…?”

  “Yep, that’s Beau Jo’s pizza!” Tuzren held up a slice for me to see. Sure enough, it was a deep dish pizza with ranch sauce and what looked like chicken, mushrooms, and pepperoni on it. He had already grown to Human size, thanks to the pizza. Beau Jo’s pizza, for some reason caused the little Daemon to grow. By his size, I could tell he was just getting started.

  “Umm, how did you get Beau Jo’s pizza?” I asked.

  Tyr grinned. “Your daemon told me about the pizza, so I had it specially shipped in. Costs a bundle, but worth every penny.”

  I scratched my head. “They deliver to Asgard?”

  Elryn looked up from her greens. “Yeah, I was able to put in an order for salad.”

  Evrardin shook his head and took a bite of pizza. He closed his eyes in utmost bliss. “Gods, I almost forgot about Beau Jo’s.”

  “How could you forget?” Tuzren looked askance.

  The Malamute wooed at them. Tyr laughed. “It’s okay, Haegl, get yourself a slice. Just don’t slobber on the other pieces.”

  “Haegl? That’s his name?” I looked at the god.

  “Yeah, he’s quite a force of nature.” Tyr grinned as the dog walked over to the carton of pizza and snagged a slice. He dropped it on the ground, laid down, and held it between his two paws as he ate.

  I stepped over Haegl and grabbed a couple of pieces. As I did, more slices appeared. I nodded and grinned. “Everlasting pizza. This is Heaven.”

  “Gladsheim.” Tyr corrected me. “No pearly gates or harps.”

  I nodded. “Gladsheim.” I took a deep breath. “Have you guys filled in Evrardin, Loki, and Tyr about my mom?”

  Evrardin looked blank. Loki and Tyr exchanged glances but said nothing. “What’s going on?” my dad asked.

  “The Watchers have kidnapped Sabine.” Loki held up a piece of pepperoni and mushroom pizza and examined it. “This is damn good pizza.”

  “What?” Evrardin leapt to his feet.

  Loki glanced at my dad. “Well, you have to admit Beau Jo’s makes excellent ‘za.”

  My dad looked livid. “You knew about Sabine?”

  “Of course I did.” Loki nodded. “She’s giving them Hel down there.”

  “Mom’s in the Christian Hell,” I muttered. “Great. Just great.”

  Evrardin turned on Tyr. “You knew! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Tyr shrugged. “And do what, exactly? We found out the same time as your son. We don’t mix it up with other pantheons for a reason.”

  “Why is that?” I mused.

  “Causes too much war among the gods.” Tuzren had grown well beyond basketball player’s height. He stuffed another slice in his mouth.

  “You might want to tone down the growth.” Tyr eyed him appreciably. “Soon, you won’t fit in here.”

  “Oh yeah, right.” The Daemon snapped his fingers and shrunk to about five feet tall. He turned to me. “Long time ago, the gods signed a treaty to not attack each other directly. They can only war through proxies
…”

  “Humans.” I frowned, thinking about all the death and destruction caused in the name of gods.

  “It’s a stupid rule,” Tyr remarked. “But it’s one we all abide by, lest we lose our powers.”

  I stared in puzzlement. “You mean all the wars Humanity has fought over gods is because one god or another has riled people up to fight for them?”

  “Yep.” Loki shook his head. “I couldn’t cause as much chaos as some of the other gods have. So, I just sit back and watch.”

  “But many gods have wiped out whole armies. Take Yahweh, for example.”

  “Ah, but he attacked humans and temples. Not the actual gods from other pantheons.” Tyr nodded.

  “But what about Sabine? The Watchers aren’t gods.”

  “No, but they fall under the Oath anyway. The demons of Hell are kind of their own pantheon in the Christian belief, even if they aren’t labeled gods. So, too, are the angels. If you think about it, they’re kind of their own demigods beneath their trinity.”

  A thought occurred to me. “Then, their claim on Fenrir would violate the Oath.”

  Fenrir, who was in his human form, nodded. “Unless a proxy were to give me to them. And even then, if Lucifer or one of the archdemons tried to coerce me, it would destroy their powers.”

  I blinked. “Don’t they know that?”

  Loki shrugged. “They may be trying to get through a loophole in their religion.”

  “Loophole?” Elryn frowned. “What loophole could they possibly exploit?”

  “Judaism made a number of gods into demons in their religion. Many original demons were actually names of Canaanite gods.” Tuzren finished his pizza and sighed. “Christianity continued with turning unpopular gods into demons, and popular ones into saints.”

  “But those aren’t the actual gods, are they?” I scratched my head.

  “Most cases, no.” Tyr studied me carefully. “But some of their saints inherited qualities that the older gods possessed. For example, Saint Olaf took on qualities of Thor and Freyr.”

  “So, how is this a loophole?” I bit into my pizza and fell silent as my mouth entered Nirvana.

  “The Watchers believe that because their legends are from different religions, it’s easy to claim yet one more demigod from the Norse pantheon. Plus if they have a mortal hand over Fenrir, they’ll be able to get around the oath.” Tuzren took another bite of pizza. “Only you’re no longer mortal. But they don’t know that.” His voice sounded muffled as he chewed and swallowed.