by Krista Walsh
Shaking, Allegra climbed to her feet and faced the hound. The spirit was still glowering at the demon, its ethereal maw drawn back over very real teeth.
“How on earth did you lay hold of a spirit hound, Percy?” she asked.
He rose to his feet, trembling all over. Behind him, Emmett stepped out of the RV, his long face stark white in the glow of the lights inside.
“It was a souvenir from an encounter with the jinni,” Percy said. “I—I didn’t know if it would actually work. There was a possibility that once the energy was released, it would vanish. I just thought it was worth a try.”
The hound’s breath slowed, and it sat back on its haunches, licking its chops. In repose, it was a handsome beast — muscular and regal, with shimmering shades of gray woven into its fur.
Matthew approached. It eyed him warily, its hackles rising the closer he got.
“Tread carefully, Matthew,” Allegra said. “I suspect being dead will not protect you from those teeth.”
Matthew came to a stop a few feet away and extended his hand. The hound leaned forward and sniffed. Allegra braced for it to attack, but instead it moved closer and bumped against Matthew’s legs, plopped itself down on his foot, and started to pant.
Matthew raised a wide-eyed gaze to meet hers. “I can touch him. Actually feel him, as if we were both alive.”
A pang of jealousy grabbed Allegra’s chest, but she forced a smile. “At least you will no longer be alone in your exile.”
Despite her efforts, Matthew’s smile was full of sympathetic understanding. She turned away from him to hide the uncomfortable and unwanted emotions welling inside her.
“We cannot leave the vehicle here in front of the house,” she said. “We would be a beacon for trouble.”
“I know. We’ll take it to the backyard next door.” Percy squinted into the streetlight in the direction they’d come. “It looks like the fire is headed the other way. Let’s hope the wind doesn’t turn in our direction. If the tunnel gets blocked off, I don’t know how our guys are going to get back.” He frowned and turned toward the lights inside the RV. “I just hope I can get all the systems up and running quickly. I was able to reach you, but the others have gone quiet.”
Emmett’s phone rang. He jumped at the sound, then cleared his throat in embarrassment as he answered it.
“Cheryl? What’s wrong? I’m putting you on speaker.”
He held the phone out, and the others gathered around it, the hound staying close by Matthew’s side. Allegra felt a tickle on her fingers and looked down to find it licking the blood off her hands.
“The circle’s been in place for the last hour, but something’s changed,” Daphne’s mother said. “There’s a force pushing against it, like something inside is trying to find a way out. One of the women suspects it’s a counterspell, but it doesn’t feel that way to me. Do you know what it is?”
Percy sighed and shoved his fingers through his chin-length curls. “I have no clue. Can you keep it contained?”
“We’ll do our best.” A pause. “Is everyone all right?”
Allegra caught Percy’s gaze, then Emmett’s.
“Last we heard, Daphne’s just fine,” Emmett said. The smile he wore was tight and his voice was strained, but he still managed a light tone as he said, “You wouldn’t think otherwise, would you? Your daughter is badass.”
“The fact that she also believes that is what worries me. You’ll keep me posted, won’t you?”
“Of course,” Emmett said. His smile was gone.
He hung up and slipped the phone back in his pocket. “How much longer do you think we have before they break through the circle’s spell?”
Percy wiped his hand across his brow. “Exactly as long as we need, I hope. But if we’re dealing with spells and counterspells, that explains why we keep losing Matthew and the comms. It’s creating power surges. If it keeps up, either one will finally overpower the other, or we’re going to end up caught in the middle of a magical tempest.”
Allegra turned toward the prison, her demon eyes barely able to make out the imposing form of the fortress in the dark distance. Dawn was coming soon. They just needed to hold on and hope the others made it in time.
27
Molly guided her hand along the cold stone wall of the corridor. Without a doubt, she was lost. Even if she decided at the next turn to give up this stupid idea and go back to her cell to wait for Frank, she didn’t think she’d be able to find her way.
With every step, another wave of fear and adrenaline shot through her rattled and starving frame. It took every effort she had to keep her teeth from chattering. She was so focused on keeping her footsteps quiet that she was terrified she would miss the signs of someone approaching, so she kept scanning her surroundings, which in turn distracted her from where she was going.
Whenever possible, she tried to duck behind objects in her path, hoping they weren’t guards that would grab her when she came too close. Three times already she’d had to avoid voices coming toward her, and she knew only luck had prevented her from being caught. She could never be sure she wasn’t exposed to someone’s view. A nightmare lurked in the back of her mind that she was being followed, laughed at for her poor attempt to escape, and that in the next room or around the next corner, they’d get bored with the game and attack.
Would they take her back to her cell, or would they just kill her, deciding she wasn’t worth the trouble?
Her insides felt like water, and it was only because she kept slipping into her meditative concentration that she hadn’t thrown up a dozen times already.
Once more, Molly crawled into her mind to find her connection with Vera, but the fog continued to push her back.
What had Frank hoped to achieve by leaving his key behind? Had he intended her to be here, feeling her way through these corridors and empty rooms to try to find an exit? Or had it been just another method of torture — let her out to explore, give her a few minutes of hope, only to dash it when she realized it was another illusion?
Despite all he’d done to her, she couldn’t bring herself to think it was the latter. While she hated the man, his regret and reluctance to hurt her made her believe he hadn’t always been a horrible person. He was a father, a family man, still trying to protect what mattered to him. It had made him selfish, and maybe a coward, but not malicious.
It would have been nice if he’d at least given me a few directions.
She swallowed her anger. The distraction of being mad at him wouldn’t help her now that she needed every iota of concentration to get through the next room.
Creeping forward a few more steps, she found herself at a barrier. She trailed her fingers across the stone and discovered a door handle. Carefully, she turned it and pressed herself against the wall beside it as she eased it open. If there was anyone inside, they would no doubt shout about the door opening on its own and come out to investigate. She could hide behind what she thought might be barrels to her left.
But no sound came and she released her breath. She slipped inside and closed the door. Quickly, she surveyed the room, her body picking up millions of clues about the negative space around her.
Although she had no idea what the objects were or what they looked like, she knew the room was large, with what she guessed to be furniture arranged around the walls and in the center. She didn’t detect anything living inside, but even so she moved as slowly and as quietly as possible, not wanting to do anything that might attract attention from outside.
After a tour of the room with her hand on the wall, she determined two of the walls had doors aside from the one she’d come through, but there was no indication of where either led.
Just as she was about to perform the necessary eenie-meenie, the door next to her opened.
She darted behind it, grabbing hold of the handle as it swung back to prevent it from whacking her in the face. A cold wind gusted through.
“Can’t be good if the bosses want ever
yone upstairs,” someone said, his voice so gravelly, Molly had to strain to make him out.
“Things are moving,” a second hissed, even more difficult to interpret. “It won’t be long now.”
As they moved farther into the room, Molly slipped behind their forms to go around the door and through it, ducking to the right so neither of the demons would see her when they closed the door behind them.
A sea spray washed over her face, sending her tumbling back into Frank’s visions. Was she standing on the edge of a brewing storm, about to be swallowed by the ocean? Fear wound through her stomach, but she forced herself not to think of it. Even being caught up in a tidal wave would be better than being back in that cell.
She drank in the smell of the salt air, amazed that she’d actually found her way outside. The fact that she was near the sea meant she was far from home, but that was a problem for later. Her heart was straining against her ribs, aching with joy, fear, relief, and more emotions than she could rationally name.
Keeping her back against the wall, she reached forward and breathed out when she came into contact with a metal railing. It was cold and slick, making her knuckles ache, but it guided her along a path that she slowly followed.
As she moved, her foot slipped and jutted out over the edge, sending her heart flying into her throat. She tightened her grip on the railing. Working to slow her breathing, she stretched her leg downward to see what might be below and found nothing but air.
Memories of climbing down the tree in her backyard flashed through her mind, but this was different. There she had an idea of what the landing would be like. Here she could drop into a pit of sea serpents for all she knew. It was better not to take the risk.
She dragged herself back and eased up onto both feet, sliding forward now to avoid another misstep. One step at a time — it was all she could afford to think of right now. This path had to lead somewhere, and as long as she remained outside she could find her way to freedom.
Without any idea of what time it was, though she assumed it was night by the lack of warm sun on her skin, or how long she’d been moving, Molly pressed forward. The wind blew around her head, drowning out all sound except for its rush. It vibrated through her skull until she felt dizzy, but she couldn’t afford to stop and let her mind settle.
The path declined, growing even more slippery as she descended. When it finally flattened out, she released her breath in a whoosh, but her heart stopped again when the railing ended.
That had to mean she was close, though she didn’t know to what. She crossed her fingers and prayed she was right, that she was almost free. With a deep breath, she cast her mind out to scan her surroundings. The building she’d exited stood tall and wide to her right. To her left stretched open space. Not wanting another slip, she took slow steps forward, working to remain on solid ground. Another step, and then another, and then the path gave out again and she fell to her knee, her other leg submerged to the thigh in ice-cold water.
Molly threw herself back onto solid ground.
It’s fine. Just a little water. I’ll go further up and try again.
Apparently her enhanced spatial awareness didn’t include element identification. Water and ground pressed back against her with equal force.
She had to keep moving. If nothing else, she had to work some warmth into her leg. Already her jeans were stiffening in the wind, and now she definitely couldn’t stop her teeth from chattering.
Favoring the knee she’d landed on, she limped back to the path and continued forward. She’d made it this far. She couldn’t give up.
She stumbled again, but this time a hand grabbed the back of her shirt and jerked her to her feet before she could fall.
Molly cried out and tried to wrench herself free, but the hand that held her was strong. A shape shifted over her left shoulder, and her heart stopped when a familiar deep voice rumbled next to her ear, “Little girls shouldn’t be up past their bedtimes.”
Lozak.
Her stomach dropped, and her knees gave out. It didn’t matter. He’d already grabbed her and was throwing her over his shoulder. She struck her fists against his back and kicked his chest, but his grip didn’t waver.
By the up-down motion of his movement, she guessed they were walking, and Molly screamed from the pit of her soul. Her efforts had achieved absolutely nothing. A few seconds later, there was a slam, and the cold sea air was cut off.
She was once more a prisoner.
28
Despite the fact that they were in a prison surrounded by enemies with very little chance of escape and still hadn’t been able to reconnect with Percy, Vera couldn’t suppress a low buzz of optimism as she followed Frank Mulligan through the corridors. Not only had they made it inside, but they’d found a guide. And not just any guide, but Gabe’s long-absent father. How could she not feel as though the stars were aligning?
She couldn’t stop staring at Frank as they passed from doorway to doorway, even as she remained on alert for anyone to discover them. He looked so much like Gabe, it was uncanny. Gabe didn’t keep any pictures of his father in the house, but if she’d met him in good light, she wouldn’t have missed the familiar line of his jaw or the shape of his eyes. They even shared the same eye color, though Frank’s eyes lacked the gold flecks and snake-like pupils of Gabe’s when under pressure.
It was sad he’d never get to know that about his son. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been to raise a child you couldn’t look in the eye.
They reached a flight of stairs, and although voices echoed off the walls overhead, they couldn’t afford to stand still and wait. Frank led the way up the stone steps, keeping his back to the inside of the curving wall. Gabe followed behind him, while Vera took up the rear. She kept looking over her shoulder to make sure no one was sneaking up after them, but the corridors were oddly quiet.
The interior of the prison was exactly how she would have imagined it based on the exterior, though perhaps a little loftier. The ceilings were easily twenty feet high, the corridors fifteen wide. Each doorway seemed crafted to allow even the largest demons to pass through with ease. The structure had been designed to cage all manner of monster, and it had served its purpose. The lingering energy of horror and rage seemed to seep down the walls and hover in the air, coating Vera’s skin. She rubbed her arms, but it remained, like a stubborn film.
At least the air up here was much cleaner compared to the staleness of the floors they’d already passed and the putrid stillness of the tunnel.
At the top of the stairs loomed one of the massive doors. Frank stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Test number one,” he said, keeping his volume little louder than a whisper. “We’re close to where most of the preparation work is being done, on the first basement level. I don’t know where exactly our warlock is set up, but it’s bound to be somewhere through here. The area is heavily guarded by every magical security method they could come up with. If your DNA isn’t on file, it could trigger an alarm that’ll send the whole team down on our heads.”
Vera’s blood rushed in her ears. They had to take the chance. The only other option was to turn back, and she wasn’t willing to do that. She looked to Gabe, and he nodded.
Frank offered them a resigned grimace. Once the voices beyond died away, he slid his pass over the security panel beside the door and it swung open. He stepped through first to ensure the hallway was clear, then gestured for them to follow. Gabe took the first step slowly, his entire body braced for the shrieks of the alarm to sound. Nothing happened. Holding her breath, Vera climbed the last step and crossed the threshold.
Magic flowed over her skin, like walking through a beaded curtain. It poked and prodded, testing her authority to be there, then was silent.
She released her breath and looked at Frank, whose expression had sagged with relief. Jermaine hadn’t given her many reasons to be grateful for his interference in her life — though meeting Gabe had been a definite perk — but now sh
e could have hugged him for stealing a blood sample when he had. Before beating him soundly over the head.
Once they were through, Frank moved even slower than he had downstairs, checking over his shoulder every other step and keeping his head tilted as though to pick up the slightest noise.
The lights flickered on the walls and a wave of energy passed over them, raising the hair on Vera’s arms. Magic. Frank was right: Mayes’s plan was already in motion.
Vera’s stomach turned at the thought of what they were working to prevent. Enslaving everyone on Earth just so Mayes could make a commercial push to stay relevant in the otherworld — it was ridiculous. She’d heard similar arguments from other extremists over the years. Some of her kind argued that they’d lost their freedoms by needing to remain even more in the shadows. They didn’t want to blend in with the weak humans who could so easily be wiped out if all the species of the otherworld joined together. They wanted to take what they believed to be theirs and rise above.
Vera wished she could lock all those people in a box and ship them off to another dimension where they could play their games of war in a place where they would go unnoticed. Let them see what life was like in a world where demons reigned.
She enjoyed this dimension. She understood the purpose of the balance, and although she occasionally resented her role in maintaining it, she had no desire to see things change. Considering Mayes’s fear that he would see opposition if he went public with his plans, she suspected most of the otherworld saw things her way.
Hopefully they would appreciate the sacrifice she was prepared to make, even if they would likely never know about it.
As they walked, she kept her eyes peeled for Molly, every once in a while testing the connection with her without success. Whatever shield Frank had placed over Molly’s mind, it was effective. Vera hoped it would be enough to keep her hidden, wherever she was.
