Whatever drug was in the IV worked fast. I could already feel my body relaxing and the pain melting into oblivion. Outside the truck, it was night and I could see we were at an airport. A small private jet was parked nearby with the staircase waiting.
Halfway up the stairs, I let myself slip into unconsciousness.
When the plane landed, I had no idea where we were. Out the window, I saw concrete and trees, but no signs that might give a hint about which airport it was. One of the men rotated the airplane door handle, and I felt the cool fresh air rush in from outside while someone else grabbed me by the arm and lifted me from the seat.
At the door, I squinted against the bright morning light and began the steep decent down the metal stairs someone had rolled up to the plane. I clung to the handrail as best I could with my hands tied together, but my legs were weak and my mind still fuzzy, I imagined it would only be a matter of seconds before my body gave out and I fell face first down the sharp stairs before me.
As if he could read my mind, the guy behind me took hold of my collar, like a leash keeping me in check, and yanked me backward every time my body threatened to go tumbling forward. On the tarmac, parked near the bottom of the stairs, a black windowless van waited to deliver me to Emerick.
On the ride, I slumped in the back seat, my head resting against the van’s interior wall. I willed my brain to stay alert, stay focused, but an unconscious tide pulled at my mind. Dragged it under into a strange place between sleep and awake. It was not the astral plane, that I knew because I could still feel the agony of my damaged and exhausted body all around me. No, I felt every jolt and jostle through the rough streets of this foreign place, the throb of my barely healing leg, the collective ache of every bruise and cut on my body, and the agony of not knowing if my friends were okay.
In my mind, Aaron still struggled for breath deep inside a cold, dark cave.
In my dreams, Caleb was forced to watch while strange men tortured his little sister.
Then, deeper, down a long corridor of horrors, I opened a door to a forest, rotten with decay and the sickly sweet smell of death. In my hand, I held a small scrap of leather, a thinly beaten hide. Behind me, the slow creak of the door made me turn and I watched the last few inches of escape collapse away until the soft click of the latch echoed through my head and the door disappeared.
Before me, in every direction, there was only the dark wild forest of death.
I was alone.
My eyes fell to my shaking hands, to the thin leather clutched between them. There were words, words inked in a dark liquid that had dried the color of rich earth.
As above, so below.
In the van, someone slapped my face.
The men pulled me from my seat and into what looked like an empty, underground garage. Their shoes echoed off the gray cement surface as they carried me through a set of double doors that led to an elevator. One man typed in a series of numbers into the keypad and the doors slid open before us.
“Give her here,” he said, and the man who had been propping me up handed me over. “I’ll take her down, you lot head back. The Below’s off limits except for the inner staff.” The other men looked at one another, a few seemed disappointed to not be going any further.
As the doors slid shut, it struck me as odd that it should be called such a place.
“Where are we?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
The man ignored me, he didn’t even glance in my direction. Answering my questions was obviously not part of his job—delivery only.
When the doors opened, Emerick’s man led me through a maze of dimly lit narrow corridors. The carpet beneath our feet was a deep blood red and the walls were covered in what looked like a dark blue fabric, like velvet. Ornate wall sconces lit the way, like a landing strip at night, to the two enormous wooden doors at the end of the hall.
Emerick would be waiting behind them. That much I was sure of.
When we were closer I could see the doors were solid, massive structures. In the center was carved an enormous square and compass, the same masonic symbol that was tiled into the entrance of the Wriothesley estate in Somerset. Around this were other symbols, the pentagram, the ouroboros, the ankh, and countless others that I didn’t recognize.
The man with me pressed a button on the wall to our left, a moment passed, and then I heard a deep clunk from inside the door, like a heavy lock releasing. Without another sound, the doors swung inward, controlled by some mechanism, and revealed the opulence of the great room they protected from the world outside.
I was pushed into the room, onto the black and white checkered marble floor. The ceilings were tall, with scrolled metal tiles and long burgundy drapes that hung to the floor. Instead of hiding windows, these drapes surrounded enormous gilded portraits of regal looking men. In the center of the room stood a massive mahogany desk the size of a freight car. The chair behind it was empty.
I thought of our long ride down the elevator from the garage and wondered just how far underground we were.
“Charlotte,” his voice came from my right. When I looked, I saw the stone fireplace and the bonfire roaring inside of it. Amongst the chairs and couches carefully arranged in front of the fire, Emerick sat, a book open on his lap, a cup of tea in his hands. “Come join me near the fire. It’s difficult to keep the rooms down here warm enough for my taste, seven hundred feet is pretty far down.”
A chill ran down my spine and made me shiver, and even though I tried to control it, tried to show I wasn’t afraid, he had seen it.
“Come sit, warm yourself by the fire and have a cup of tea. Once you’re comfortable, we can discuss what will come next.”
I walked to him, regretting every step but unable to do anything else. I worried about Emerick’s next.
The man who brought me down asked, “Will that be all sir?”
“For now Edward. For now.” Emerick looked me over, judged the situation. “I think I can manage from here. However…don’t go too far. One can never be too sure.”
I hesitated, uncertain, like a mouse in a corner waiting for the cat to strike—Emerick had a plan for me, that much was certain. Last year Franzen had warned me that the next time Emerick and I crossed paths, he would be prepared for me. There would be no dragging me into a basement while he figured out his next move, this time Emerick was ready.
“Sit Charlotte,” he gestured to the sofa behind me. “From what I hear you’ve been through quite an ordeal.” He sipped his tea and placed the cup and saucer on the coffee table between us.
A second later, I allowed my body to fold down onto the plush cushions. My exhaustion beating out my desire to defy him—I could only hope that, when the time came, I would have the strength to do what I needed.
“There we are,” he smiled at me and leaned forward to pour a second cup of the steaming tea. He didn’t bother to ask before adding milk and one teaspoon of sugar—exactly the way I liked it—and pushed the cup across the table to me.
I stared at it.
“Now, as I see it, there really isn’t any reason why we need to work at cross purposes.” Completely relaxed, he sat back against his chair, his arms resting comfortably on the upholstered arms at his sides. His chest rose and fell with the calm breath of quiet power.
He was in complete control.
“Easy to say from your position,” I said.
A small smile spread across his lips, as if he were impressed.
“It’s true, I do hold almost all the cards…but I generally do not play at games of chance.” He pulled at his pant legs and straightened their crease. “That’s not to say that you, Charlotte,” he leveled his eyes at me. “Don’t hold some cards of your own.”
My surprise must have shown on my face because he laughed out loud.
“Oh come now, a man does not get to be in my position without acknowledging the strength of his opponent. The resources that are playing against me. You have something I want Charlotte. Something I want v
ery much. I would be a fool to pretend otherwise.”
“And you have something I want,” I said.
“I have several things you want,” he corrected.
The threat made my insides twist. “Yes,” I said. “You have almost everything that means anything to me.”
He nodded sagely, as if we were having a philosophical discussion instead of teetering on the brink of his ability to destroy everyone I held most dear with nothing more than a simple and singular command to just one of his henchmen.
“Almost,” he acknowledged. “And truly, it wouldn’t take much to sweep up the rest of your clan,” he looked to the fireplace. “I’ve never much cared for genre writing.” His eyes met mine again. “Simple entertainment for the simple minded.”
I looked away, his threat against my father was plain to me. I took a breath, “What do you want from me?”
He sat up straight in his chair, folded his hands together and templed his fingers against his lips. His eyes held mine, the hungry lion about to devour the helpless prey. “The box,” he finally began. “Now that I have it, the real one, you will show me how it works. It requires keys, this I know, but the key keepers are devout and zealous fools that, unlike yourself, are willing to sacrifice everything, everyone even, to hold to their sworn duties.”
“They can’t be intimidated,” I interrupted.
“It is most irritating,” he smiled. “As we have seen, they would rather die than deviate from their cause. As they will only deal with you, or the next descendant—”
He meant Grace.
“You will collect the remaining keys for me.”
I stared into the fire, my thoughts spinning, I thought about my words carefully. “Before I help you, you will release Caleb and Sophie.”
Emerick smiled, as if I amused him, “You have much to learn about the balance of power as it pertains to the art of negotiation. Seeing as you’re very young, allow me to explain. You do not have any…power that is. While it’s true, you have the gift I require, the talent I need to exercise for my own needs…but I could just as easily be finished with you and your friends. Fortunately, for me, Franzen and Elizabeth have another child.”
My eyes riveted onto his.
“One much younger, much easier to groom. One I could, should I desire, raise as my own.”
He could, would, take Grace. “But you would have to wait,” I blurted. “She’s too young.”
“I’m can be a very patient man.”
With my eyes back on the fire, I thought about his words. He was bluffing. Everything he said was true, he could just get rid of me and my friends, and he could quite easily take Grace—but he did not want to wait. He was too close now. If he wanted to wait for Grace to grow old enough to collect the keys and solve the puzzle, he wouldn’t have bothered with bringing me here in the first place.
I licked my lips. Slowly, I reached for my teacup and raised the delicate china cup to my lips. The hot liquid was delicious and gave me the second I needed to think about what I would do next.
There was only one way—I just wasn’t exactly sure how I was going to pull it off.
Lowering my cup, I placed it carefully onto the saucer in front of me and nodded my head. “Okay,” I resigned. “I’ll do it. I’ll collect the other keys, finish solving the puzzle, and hand everything over to you.”
Emerick shifted slightly in his chair.
“But,” I added. “I want to know that my friends and my mother are all safe, and well cared for, first.”
“I can assure—”
“That’s not enough,” I met his gaze. “I will need to see them with my own eyes.”
Emerick sat back again, considering my request. He let several moments pass before he nodded his head, “Your friends are easily enough proved to be well. They are currently on the premises.”
I had hoped that this was the case but I didn’t dare let my emotions show on my face. It might have raised his suspicions.
“But your mother…well you will just have to take me at my word that she is not being harmed.”
I shook my head. “Before I do anything for you, you will show me Caleb and Sophie. Right here, right now. And then, we will go together to see my mother.”
Emerick sighed, “As I have said—”
“She’s not here,” I finished for him. “So we will go to her in the astral plane.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Private Prison
Now it was Emerick’s turn to try and hide his emotions. He sighed, turned his head from me, and stared into the fire as if contemplating my proposition.
But I could tell, the idea of getting inside the astral plane excited him. He wanted it and would, after he let enough time pass while he pretended to consider, agree to my plan. I wondered if, after all this time, he still was unable to cross into the astral plane without assistance.
When he turned his eyes back onto me, his desire was obvious. He couldn’t hide it and I realized that he hadn’t—he couldn’t—cross over on his own.
Not without my mother, and now, not without me.
I wondered, why didn’t Hayden do it? Unless—
Emerick suddenly stood up. “Come,” he commanded. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
On the wall opposite the large main doors I had entered the room through, there stood a smaller door. More ordinary than the ornately carved double entrance, this door looked as if it contained nothing more than a closet.
I followed Emerick, bracing myself for what I was about to see and do. I watched as he opened this simple door and walked into, not a closet, but another very long corridor. A blast of cold air swept over my body and made me shiver.
Unlike the opulence of the blue papered walls leading to Emerick’s office, this corridor was nothing more than four long concrete slabs, stretching away from us into a long box that ended abruptly at another concrete slab. Along the walls, a series of industrial looking doors were evenly spaced, each with their own keypad and large levered handle. After several feet I realized what this was.
Emerick’s private prison.
Seven hundred feet beneath the Earth, locked behind what appeared to be sound proof doors—how many people did he have trapped down here.
I stared hard at one of the doors as we passed, was there a person being caged in there?
Halfway down the hall, we stopped and I watched as Emerick quickly keyed in a code too fast for me to memorize. The device beeped and a small light turned from red to green right before I heard the sound of heavy tumblers inside the door sliding and clicking into place.
Emerick turned the handle and swung the door open.
The room was pitch black.
He was keeping them in the dark. Dread clawed at my skin and my throat tightened. “Why is it dark?” my voice cracked and exposed my fear.
“Darkness is such a simple psychological control…and so very effective. Lights!” Emerick commanded and immediately the small cell was flooded with the garish glare from the flood lights above.
In the corner of the room, curled into a tight ball, Sophie sat with her head buried in her arms.
A strained cry rose up my throat and escaped before I could swallow it back down. Without thinking, my hands reached out and I moved towards her, but Emerick was quicker and grabbed my arm.
“Sophie,” I whispered as I tried to pull my arm free from Emerick’s iron grip. She raised her head until I could see her bloodshot eyes.
“Charlotte?” she asked blinking. She strained to see me as her eyes adjusted from the pitch black she had been kept in to the now blazing bright room. “Charlotte?” her voice cracked on her fear.
“Yes, I’m here”
Still blind, Sophie began crawling towards the sound of my voice but Emerick was already pulling me back out of the room. “Wait,” I pleaded, but Emerick ignored me.
“Charlotte?” Sophie cried. “Don’t leave me here!”
“Lights!” Emerick commanded again and the room
plunged back into the darkness that swallowed Sophie into its depth.
“No!” she cried. “Please! Charlotte!”
“Lights! Lights!” I shouted as Emerick closed the door between us and Sophie, but nothing happened. My voice didn’t work on the controls. “I’m coming for you Sophie! I’ll be back!” I cried into the crack just before Emerick shut the door on Sophie’s scream.
This time, I watched with a laser focus as Emerick keyed the pad that opened the next cell. Caleb was being kept in the room next to Sophie and as soon as Emerick turned on the light, I could see that it was Caleb who had been hurt in order to make Sophie talk. Both of his eyes were swollen and purple and dried blood was smeared across his cheek and down his neck from his split lip.
He too sat in the corner, but his arms rested on his knees and his head leaned back against the wall behind him. When Emerick opened the door, Caleb raised his head and tried to gaze casually in our direction, even though I knew the light was blinding him just as it had Sophie.
Caleb was putting on an amazing front, but I could see his hand tremble. “Caleb,” I resisted the urge to run to him, certain that Emerick would yank me quickly from this room as well. “It’s Charlotte, Sophie is okay and I’m coming. I swear I’m coming back for you both!”
Emerick shut the door on my words.
Seeing them left me shaken. I wanted to rip them out of those cells and run as far and as fast away from this place as possible. It made me desperately regret ever letting them help me in the first place.
Ms. Steward’s words haunted me. I was a very dangerous person to love—but far worse, was being loved by me. My love for them was the leverage Emerick now used to get exactly what he wanted.
“My mother,” I whispered. “Now you will show me that she is safe.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Astral
Back in the sitting area, before the roaring fire, I tried to forget that my friends were terrified and suffering a hundred yards from where I now sat. I tried, desperately, to quiet my mind.
Midheaven (Ascendant Trilogy Book 2) Page 22
