by Bella Klaus
“Macavity?” I asked.
His ear twitched and he made a little sound in the back of his throat, indicating that he was paying me his full attention.
“Did you see a jar beneath those bushes?”
Macavity nodded.
I inhaled a deep breath but kept my voice casual. Any sign of excitement and the cat would use my desperation against me in the upcoming negotiations. “Could you roll it out, so I can take a look?”
Resting his front paws on my chest, he drew back with his eyes narrowed. I clenched my teeth. Not that I’d had many pals when I was growing up, but I’d seen enough human television to categorize Macavity as one of those over-curious friends who always asked why when you only needed them to just say yes or no.
“Why’s it taking so long?” Hades snarled.
Macavity’s left ear twisted in the direction of the sound. My heart sank. Great. Now he would want to know who was speaking.
I trusted Macavity not to tell anyone what we were doing, and that wasn’t just because he didn’t speak English, but voices carried, and we were so close to putting Hades back together again.
An idea dropped into the front of my mind. I reached into my pocket and extracted the sandwich. “Want some of this?”
“Hellcats eat meat,” Hades drawled, sounding as though I knew nothing about felines.
“This one has eclectic tastes.” I tore the paper casing and opened up the package, releasing the faint scent of chicken.
“He seems like any other avaricious hellcat to me,” Hades muttered.
Macavity scrambled down to the sandwich, trying to stick his nose in its box.
I held it out of reach. “Get me that jar, and you can have everything between these slices of bread.”
“Meow!” He reared up and pressed his paws on the crook of my arm, trying to pull the sandwich to grabbing level.
“I’m serious, Macavity,” I snapped. “No jar, no mouthwateringly delicious chicken.”
Hades groaned.
I ignored the incorporeal Demon King and focussed on Macavity. He climbed down from my lap and settled on the ground, staring from me to the sandwich. The challenge in his green eyes seemed to say that he wanted to see if this chicken was worthwhile before he went to the effort of retrieving the jar. Never mind that I’d caught the bloody cat rooting around beneath the fennel’s dense foliage.
“Macavity,” I said in my firmest voice. “Don’t act like you’ve never eaten Marks and Spencer chicken. No samples.”
“This is ludicrous,” Hades muttered.
“Meow!” Straightening, he glanced in the direction of the trees.
My heart sank. How much did I want to bet that there was a juicy bird up there that was far less effort to catch than earning a few pieces of sandwich filling? I separated the slices and picked out a piece of chicken and set it on the lawn. “Just one, alright?”
Macavity gobbled it up before peering up at me with a gleam in his eyes that said he wanted half the payment upfront before he even considered doing the job.
My stomach rumbled, making me sag. I separated the slices of bread, picked out bits of chicken, and tossed them on the ground. The clouds thickened, and the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the garden in gloom.
If I had crawled under the bush and not tried to bribe Macavity, I would have gotten the jar and the sandwich.
“You’re pathetic,” Hades muttered.
I pursed my lips. Not everyone was a cat lover.
“Careful.” His voice rose several octaves, sounding hurried. “A group of men are running toward us. If they see that jar, all three of us are finished!”
Chapter Twenty-One
I knelt in front of the giant fennel plant, my heart beating loud enough to muffle the wind. Sweat broke out across my palms, making the sandwich box I was holding slip a few inches. I tightened my grip, stopping its contents from spilling onto the grass.
“How far away are these men?” I whispered to Hades.
“They’ve just stepped onto the lawn,” he replied. “They’ll be with you in about forty seconds.”
I tilted my head to the sky, trying to think. By now, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the London skyline in a purple haze. A licorice-scented wind swirled through my hair, cooling down my mounting sense of panic.
Had Kresnik called them to approach me because I was getting too close to the jar of ashes or was this about something else? My throat thickened. Healer Calla had probably complained to someone that I had healed Aurora, and now some busybodies were going to confront me about undermining Kresnik’s punishment.
I shoved those speculations aside and forced myself to focus on at least looking innocent.
“Macavity?” I whispered.
The cat must have heard the urgency in my voice because his head snapped up. All traces of playfulness vanished, replaced by a sharp attentiveness that eased a little of my anxiety.
Meeting Macavity’s gaze, I said in a low voice, “Some bad men are coming, and I don’t want them to think we’re trying to get to the jar. Can you pretend you’re begging for food?”
“It doesn’t need to pretend,” Hades muttered.
Ignoring the invisible demon, I continued plucking out pieces of chicken from the sandwich and tossing them onto the lawn. Macavity batted a fallen piece with his front paws before gobbling it up.
“Oi,” said a gruff voice from above.
My spine stiffened. I turned my head and stared up into the face of one of the guards I’d met earlier, who had been encouraging Brother David to eat ashes. This one was tall and thin like Jonathan but with strawberry-blond hair that bordered on orange.
Behind him were two shorter men with broader frames, whose black hair, sallow faces, and flame-red hair marked them as brothers and probably demon hybrids. They had also been standing around the fire.
“What are you doing?” asked the man in front.
“Playing with a cat,” I said. “What’s that to you?”
His gaze dropped to Macavity, who sat on his haunches and raised his front paws, looking like he was praying for more food. I sent the cat a silent word of thanks for his excellent acting skills.
“How did you get it through the wards?” the man asked.
“General Sargon gave him to me as a pet.” I pulled myself to my feet and met his glower. Did he and his friends only come to question me about Macavity, or was this interrogation going to lead to something else?
He bared his teeth. “A pet getting a pet of her own?”
My muscles stiffened, but a shot of adrenaline surged through my system, making me ready for a fight. Everyone seemed extra hostile today, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Valentine’s public display at the brunch briefing made them think I was just his blood cow.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Nigel,” he said with a leer.
I offered him a cold smile. “When you mock Our Lord’s second-in-command, you also deride Our Lord’s ability to choose his general. Are you questioning his decisions, Brother Nigel?”
He flinched. “Of course not.”
“Then kindly leave me alone and let me play with my cat.”
Brother Nigel glanced at the man standing on his left, who stepped forward. My lips tightened. What the hell was wrong with these men? Was this their petty revenge for how I’d confronted them the day they’d been encouraging Brother David to eat those ashes?
“Come with us,” he said. “You’re wanted.”
“What for?” I folded my arms across my chest.
“Are you questioning Our Lord?” he said, mimicking how I had asked his friend the same question.
I clenched my fists, my insides welling with frustration. This was classic bully behavior. They never came at you by themselves, and always needed back up. When one idiot faltered, another was ready to take his place. I exhaled my annoyance in a long breath.
“If you’d tell me what’s happening, maybe I wouldn’t ne
ed to ask you so many questions,” I said.
Brother Nigel raised his chin, seeming to have regained his ability to speak. “Lord Kresnik says you are to attend a ritual tonight. Will you come with us now?”
Every ounce of blood trickled from my face and into my plummeting stomach, leaving me lightheaded. This would probably be another attempt to extract my magic while Valentine was away on his mission. I smoothed down my cloak, trying not to seem like I was on the verge of fainting.
Palpitations squeezed my heart. I couldn’t leave this spot when we were so close to freeing Hades. Pulling back my shoulders and raising my chin, I tried to inject a bit of confidence into my words. “Tell me which ritual room, and I’ll go there myself after feeding the cat.”
“I’ll get rid of it for you.” Brother Nigel glared down at Macavity and stamped his foot. “Bugger off before I skin your hide.”
Macavity darted into the depths of the fennel plant, making the men snicker. I clenched my teeth, wanting to lash out with my nails.
“Right then.” Brother Nigel wrapped a meaty hand around my arm. “Let’s go—”
A low, guttural growl sounded from behind us that made my skin prickle into goosebumps. As it increased in volume, all the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my insides trembled.
I turned my head to find the entire fennel plant shaking. Something massive was in the bushes, and it was about to attack.
“What the hell is that?” asked Brother Nigel.
“Release my arm and it might go away,” I said.
The man shoved me aside and backed into his companions, who stared at the quaking plant with slack faces. All three men huddled together and covered their hands with fire.
I took several steps back, just in case a fight broke out, and hoped they wouldn’t be stupid enough to try to set the plant alight. Macavity probably still remembered his painful encounter with Jonathan and wouldn’t give these fire users the benefit of the doubt. Macavity made a rumbling motorcycle sound, accompanied by a few hisses.
“Don’t go in there,” I said.
They ignored me and continued toward the plant. Brother Nigel stuck his fiery hands into the dense foliage, parting it to reveal the green eyes of a giant leopard.
“What?” the man yelled, flaring his fire.
With a roar that made my eardrums tremble, Macavity lurched forward and struck out with a massive paw.
Blood spurted from Brother Nigel’s neck. He staggered backward, trying to stem the flow with both hands, but the dark liquid spilled through his fingers and seeped down the front of his donkey jacket.
The other two turned to run, but Macavity sprang out from the fennel plant, jostling Brother Nigel aside, and knocked the two men to the ground with his massive bulk.
I clapped my hands over my mouth and turned my head as the leopard savaged the two men.
“Miss Griffin,” Hades hissed. “The jar!”
I turned my gaze back to the fennel plant, where something glasslike protruded from within its dense leaves. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone was rushing to the men’s rescue, but found nobody else on this side of the grounds.
Just in case someone was watching through the window of Kenwood House, I backed toward the fennel plant, acting like I was cowering away from the leopard.
In the corner of my eye Macavity slammed his massive paw onto the back of one of the men who was trying to crawl away.
Uncertainty wrapped around my neck like a noose, and I froze on the spot, my mouth opening and closing. I needed to tell Macavity to stop, but if one of them survived to say he’d found me loitering around the fennel plant, Kresnik would guess our plans and seize Hades’ ashes. The Demon King might never get the chance to break free.
My chest tightened and I gulped mouthful after mouthful of air. I had to let Macavity finish, so there would be no witnesses.
Every limb in my body shook as I reached for the fourth set of ashes. The leopard’s snarls and snaps and the crunching of bones grated across my nerves, making the jar slip from my trembling fingers.
“Don’t open it outside,” Hades yelled in my ear. “Put it in your pocket.”
There was probably a good reason, but the sound of Macavity attacking those men blocked my ability to think. I slipped the jar into the pocket of my cloak and sprinted across the lawn.
As I reached the trees that bordered the walkway of Kenwood House, I turned to find Macavity dragging the last of the bodies into the giant fennel plant.
“I take back everything I said about your cat,” Hades said into my ear. “He’s a marvelous companion.”
“Do you think he’ll eat those men?” I whispered.
“Judging by the way he devoured those chicken pieces, I would hazard a yes,” Hades said with a chuckle.
A shudder took control of my insides, and I continued along the path and around the corner. Now that Macavity had stopped snarling, the gardens fell silent, save for the pounding of my feet hitting the paving stones and the thudding of my heart.
“That’s four jars done,” I said between ragged breaths. “Where do I find the last?”
“That one will be tricky,” Hades replied, his voice low with defeat.
My footsteps slowed as we passed the ballroom’s tall, arched windows. “Why?”
“Do you remember that candelabra?” he asked.
“The one you said operated the wards?”
“Not quite,” he replied. “Neither the candles nor their holders maintain security.”
My brow furrowed and I continued toward the doors that led to the ballroom and placed my hand on its wooden surface. “What difference does it make when I’m going to blow the candles out?”
The door wouldn’t budge, so I stepped back and checked for handles.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “We’re not going to Kenwood House. You need to fetch the firestone heart your mother said held enough power for you to escape.”
“Alright.” I walked toward one of the few fire doors that opened from the outside and led to the Flame. “But I still don’t understand why you don’t want me to find that fifth jar.”
Hades remained silent for several heartbeats, making me wonder if he had lied about knowing a way to defeat Kresnik. If everything he had told me was true, then they were evenly matched. I wasn’t sure if Titans were stronger than Greek gods, but Prometheus lost his power, reinvented himself as Kresnik, and now had to rely on stealing magic from others.
Hades also appeared to have lost his godly power but was a King of Hell. That had to count for something, even if he was just a pile of ashes.
His sigh filled my ears. “Kresnik arranged for one set of my ashes to be mixed in clay, flattened into a disc, etched with mocking glyphs, and turned into a placemat.”
I paused. “What? Why?”
“He wanted to make sure that if I ever broke free from my jars, I could never become whole.”
My mouth fell open. “So, what was the point of collecting all the jars, then?”
“Would you want your body parts to be stored within glass receptacles?” he asked.
“No, but what about our agreement? And Valentine’s heart?”
He remained silent.
I ground my teeth. The bloody bastard had tricked me into doing all his dirty work and offered me nothing in return but a pack of lies and a ring that might get me killed. “I’m going to hold this jar hostage until you help me escape.”
“Fine,” he replied without a trace of guilt.
Each footstep weighed like concrete as I trudged around the house toward an entrance that would lead us to the Flame. How dare that demon lie to me? It was partially his fault that Valentine was now in Kresnik’s clutches. If he hadn’t pretended Aunt Arianna would be executed, we would never have gone to the Supernatural Council, the demon doctor would have removed the firestone, and I would have restored Valentine to life.
My pulse pounded the beat of a war drum, and I clenched my fists.
What use was raging about Hades when Kresnik would send out another group of people to drag me to his ritual? With Valentine away on a mission and unable to protect me, my only way out through the wards was by regaining my power.
I stepped through the door that was halfway down the stairs, shouldered off my cloak and rolled it under my shoulder.
“Why are you taking off your only means of protection?” Hades asked.
Still bristling at having been duped, I said, “Everyone recognizes me from the cloak. If they’re searching for me, that’s the first thing they’ll look out for.”
“There are enough redheads in the Flame who look exactly like you, I suppose.”
His implication that I was unremarkable blew over me like a breeze. A lot of the people here were half-siblings or related to Father Jude. It was no surprise that I would blend in among them.
I pushed open the door and hurried through the hallway, passing fire users who were all headed in the direction of the ritual chambers. As soon as I felt the energy of the room I used to occupy, I slowed down to feel out which of the doors belonged to Aurora.
Her room was identical to mine—sparse with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a view of Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, and the London Eye. The observation wheel rotated, glowing crimson in the darkening sky.
“Under the pillow,” Hades said.
“Right.” I mounted the bed and slipped my hand beneath the covers.
My fingers brushed against warm stone that pulsed under my fingertips. I pulled it out to find a gemstone heart shaped like a beef tomato but with an enlarged fifth chamber that pointed downward into a rounded point.
Hades whistled. “Impressive.”
“Know a lot about supernatural hearts, do you?”
“I’ve torn out a few in my time,” he said, his voice light with pride.
My breath quickened. This was a lot of firestone to put in a person’s blood and over eight times the weight of the bracelet. The firestone heart was an amber so deep that it appeared black in the places where it dipped and curved around the contours of my organ. It was about a third larger than Valentine’s, which made sense, since it had formed a crust around my heart.
