Promise: Caulborn #2 Read Free Page B

stretched, and padded toward the kitchen.
    “Good morning, Vincent.” I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of the voice coming from behind me.
    My Commander Courageous action figure strode across the top of the dresser and planted his plastic fists on his hips. Clad in a scarlet body suit and green gloves and mask, my childhood hero posed proudly in his “I’m a hero, dammit,” stance. Aside from being an ultra rare collectible, this action figure served as a vessel for an adviser my father had sent me years ago, just before I received worshippers. My father, Janus, the Roman god of doors, had to stay away from my mom and me to ensure we stayed safe from his enemies, and Commander Courageous was one of the guardians he left behind. I’ve never learned who the being is behind the mask, but he always gives insightful advice. “You’re going to have company today, Vincent.” Courageous said with a smile. “I’ve arranged a new instructor for you.”
    “An instructor? For what? I know how to control my powers, and I’m caring for my followers. What more is there?” Courageous was silent, having reverted back to a normal action figure. When it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anymore, I headed to the kitchen.
    Where a gateway to Hell had opened.
    The scents of sulfur and brimstone choked me, and a greasy smoke filled the kitchen. On the other side of the gateway, a hellhound sniffed the air. The thing was as big as a Harley and probably weighed twice that. Luminescent yellow eyes regarded me, and I shivered at the intelligence that glimmered there. The hellhound’s thick red and black fur bristled as it walked forward, stepping through to my kitchen. “Sorry,” I said to the hound, “but my apartment has a strict no pets policy.” I telekinetically threw it backward. My initial guess was wrong; the hellhound easily weighed three or four times what a Harley did.
    It got back to its feet and snarled, belching out a cone of flame. I put up a telekinetic shield and deflected the fire back through the gateway and countered with a pyrokinetic blast. The hound made a sound like laughter. Dumbass. It’s a HELL-hound. You can’t hurt it with fire. I telekinetically hurled it again, hoping it would lose interest.
    “Stop playing with it, Corinthos,” a voice from my left said. “Just seal the gateway.” I stole a glance at the speaker. Forculus, another Roman god of doors, had his sneakered feet up on my kitchen table, a chocolate-frosted donut in his hand. He regarded me with gray eyes as he bit into his donut and then cocked his head toward the gateway in a “get on with it” gesture. My gaze returned to the hellhound, which had regained its feet and was shaking its head. It looked up at me with pure hatred blazing in its yellow eyes. Shit.
    “How?” I asked.
    “Concentrate on the gateway,” Forculus said. “Feel the energies that make it up, and then tie them together.” I hastily reached out for the gateway with my mind, trying to sense whatever made it work. As I did, the hellhound charged. I abandoned my probing and threw out a telekinetic barrier. A second later, the hellhound slammed into the barrier full force. I strained to hold it in place as the creature pressed against it. But, the hellhound snarled and punched through. Pain exploded in my head as the barrier shattered. I was disoriented and couldn’t concentrate enough to bring it back. The hound charged forward again and leapt for the gateway, jaws open wide. The spittle on its teeth and tongue shimmered as it hurtled through the air. I put my arms up over my face, knowing the gesture wasn’t going to afford me any protection. Forculus snapped his fingers and the smells of brimstone and sulfur vanished.
    “Put your arms down, boy.” The gateway and hellhound were gone. I lowered my arms and turned to Forculus. He’d put his feet down and was rubbing the heels of his palms against his forehead. He lowered his hands and regarded