“Get up, you stiff, old codger. He’s not here, and I don’t care if you hit your knees,” a girlish voice said.
“Yes, my Queen. How may I serve you?” Charon sounded older than he did when he spoke to Sabrina. This voice matched the withered hand she saw him with earlier.
Which is the real version of him, she wondered.
“Are you any closer to getting her? Somnus tells me she gave you a spell to take someone in their sleep, in addition to the visitation spells. Did you use it?” The girlish voice gave her demand with a waspish tone.
“I tried, my Queen. The magic is not mine to command. I will try again,” Charon lied.
“You damn well better get it right this time. I want that bitch dead before he finds her. I rule here and no upstart mistake is going to take that away from me! Now, I don’t care how you get the job done, just get it done fast,” the girlish voice said.
Sabrina worked to hold still. The lioness in her head wanted to pounce on this woman, to shred her to ribbons. The bezel grew hot enough to start burning her skin. Where her hand cupped the stone, hiding the rainbows, she felt a sting everywhere the light landed.
“Yes, my Queen. As you command, so shall it be,” Charon replied. More rough fabric rustled.
Clicking heels went out the door. The hovel grew silent once more. The rustling fabric and shuffling noises returned. The heavy, wooden door creaked and popped as it closed.
The shuffling changed to measured steps. “You may come out. I shall not cause you harm,” Charon rasped. The unused younger man’s voice returned. The measured steps stopped outside the bedroom door.
Sabrina pushed off from the wall and took her burning hand away from the stone. Fury raged inside. She wanted to follow the woman and ambush her. The lioness within encouraged this, laid her ears back, and roared in defiance. She might have given in to the impulse, but Charon blocked her path.
“You cannot attack the Queen. I feel your anger and understand, but she is not the only master to whom I must answer. There is another way,” Charon explained.
“I’ve never met her, and she wants me dead. What did I ever do to her?”
Sabrina did her best to calm the lioness. Dark rainbows and shadows emanated brightly from the stone. They seemed to want to cocoon her, creating a shield between her and Charon.
“It is not what you did but what you are,” he said. The raspy quality seemed to be clearing up the more he spoke.
“And what am I to her?” So many possibilities swirled in her mind. The lioness batted at them. Raw power tingled her skin, ready go on the offensive.
“She is a jealous goddess. You have caught the attention of Dis Pater,” he said as a matter of fact.
“Who?”
“Dis Pater. You may call him Pluto or Hades,” Charon replied.
“So. Back to my question. What am I to her?” Sabrina was determined to get answers. She prepared to use magic, if the need arose.
“Competition.”
* * * *
Brandon and Delilah waited as Farrell unlocked the door to his apartment. The sound of someone struggling to breathe came from inside. The rattling increased as Farrell entered.
The little man hurried to the bedroom, dropping to his knees beside his ailing wife. He stroked her hair with one hand and clutched her hand with the other. A single tear ran down his cheek.
“Camilla, my flower, Brandon and Delilah are here,” he whispered.
Her eyes fluttered as she opened them. A weak smile turned the corners of her lips up. “Sorry, boss, I’m going to be late for work,” she joked.
Brandon noticed her fingernails were turning blue from lack of oxygen. Her skin had mottled to a pale gray. Dark bags puffed under her eyes, making her sunken cheeks seem hollowed. The sight of her like this twisted his guilt into an even bigger knot. He felt responsible for her and nearly hesitated to ask for her help one final time.
Dropping to his knees beside Farrell, he laid a hand on her body. “Can you forgive me for putting you in harm’s way?”
A puzzled look crossed her face. “Why would you need to ask? I was doing my job,” she whispered.
“Had I known more about who we were dealing with, I wouldn’t have sent you out with Sabrina,” he confessed. Part of him wanted her to tell him to go fuck himself. He deserved nothing less.
“If it’s that important to you, then, I forgive you. I forgive your guilt, your refusal to love me, and your annoying habit of clenching your jaw when you’re mad,” she said softly. “But I thank you for bringing me and Eleanor together. She took away the insanity and made Farrell and I possible. It’s been the happiest months of my life.”
Farrell choked back a sob and laid his head against her body. He lifted his head and furrowed his brow. “My flower, Brandon and I need to ask you for one more thing,” he said. A hint of regret crept into his tone.
“Anything for you, Fang-face,” she whispered.
Fang-face? That was her pet name for him? Brandon worked hard to keep a straight face.
“Charon kidnapped Sabrina from her bed. We need to get to the underworld. If you agree, we can follow you with the help of Thane,” Brandon told her. He hated asking.
She lay quiet for a full minute, closing her eyes. She rattled in another desperate deep breath, coughing as she exhaled. She opened her eyes and nodded. “Yes,” she replied.
Camilla’s eyes flicked past the two vampires. “Will you be the one to take me?”
Delilah leaned over her bed. Kissing two fingers, she laid them on Camilla’s lips. Immediately, the dying woman’s breathing eased. “No, honey, that’s not my job,” the demoness said apologetically.
“That would be mine,” said a voice from behind the collection of friends.
Brandon glanced over his shoulder, knowing it would be Thane.
Thane leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed in front of him. “I thought I might find the lot of you here. Usually, the loved ones gathered around can’t see me. I stand back and wait until I’m needed, but I had a feeling this time would to be different.”
“Camilla has agreed to let us follow her to the underworld,” Brandon announced. He felt a certain amount of irritation toward the god of death. The casual attitude of the deity at such a serious moment smacked of disrespect. He held his temper in check, gritting his teeth.
“Why do you need to go there? It’s not like you can cross back without help.”
“Sabrina’s been taken. If you were hoping to use Sabrina to get your scythe back, now’s your chance. She’s there already. I want my wife back. It appears Charon has two things that don’t belong to him,” Brandon reasoned.
Thane walked around the side of the bed and sat down beside Camilla. “The choice is yours to make, but understand there may be consequences. If you agree to let them piggy-back to the river bank, you may be deemed an oath breaker. That means your eternity will not be spent in the Elysian Fields. You could be sent to the ninth level of Inferno. I hope you like the cold and Delilah’s company,” he explained. He waited for a response.
Camilla licked her lips and swallowed hard. Another ragged breath rattled its way into her body. “I understand,” she mouthed. Her strength seemed to be failing. “For her and for Eleanor, I agree to let them cross with me.”
Thane stood, turning to Brandon and Delilah. “I can’t guarantee your safety. Your presence will cause more imbalances. Delilah’s magic isn’t compatible. You and Farrell are already dead, but bound to your bodies. There will be no living blood to sustain you. Sabrina already created an imbalance when she tried to turn vampire. That imbalance will be what masks your presence when you arrive. The longer you stay, however, the more the imbalance will build. Eventually, there will be a price to pay,” Thane told them.
“I can’t speak for Farrell or Delilah, but I’m willing to risk anything for my wife,” Brandon said. On a soul-deep level, he meant every word. Without her, eternity held nothing for him.
; Delilah kissed her finger again and touched Camilla’s lips. “Brave wolf.” Standing up straight and giving Thane a wry smile, she said, “Thanatos, I wouldn’t miss this party for the world.”
Farrell stayed on his knees, holding Camilla’s hand. “I’m going,” he said with unwavering determination. There was an edge of a dare to his statement. His eyes narrowed. He wiped away the tears, kissed Camilla’s hand, and stood to join the others. “Just tell me what I have to do.”
Thane shook his head. “The things I do,” he said with resignation. “Okay, boys and girls. This is how this works. Hold hands. When Camilla’s soul rises, Farrell, you will reach out to her. Let her touch you. When I send her across, you and the others will be taken with her. I will be right behind you. Understand?”
Everyone nodded.
Clasping hands with the others, Farrell leaned over and kissed Camilla’s forehead. “I’ll be waiting right here, my flower.”
“I’m afraid,” she whispered. Thane laid a hand on her heart. “It doesn’t hurt. Death can be a friend, a mercy. No pain. No sickness. Nothing to ever cause suffering again. Do you want to rise alone, or do you want me to bring you out of this shell?”
“Help me,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes tight. She must have gripped Farrell’s hand hard.
He flinched, but stayed quiet.
Thane nodded in agreement. A warm light radiated from his hand. As he lifted his arm into the air over Camilla, the light followed him. When the glow faded, a healthy looking Camilla floated above her body.
She gave him a wide smile and looked over at Farrell. She reached out to him. When their fingers touched, a golden glow lit up the room.
“What’s that?” Brandon asked to no one in particular.
“True love,” Delilah said with a sentimental note.
Thane waved his hand past Camilla’s floating spirit.
Instead of fading away like the club manager, Brandon watched as a vortex of dark, swirling mist opened behind her. A bright light at the end made the vortex seem more like a tunnel. A tendril of energy threaded its way down the tunnel.
Camilla never took her eyes off Farrell. She mouthed, “I love you, Fang-face.” She laced her fingers with Farrell’s. When the tendril reached her, it wrapped around her waist and pulled her backward down the vortex.
Farrell gasped when he was pulled in next. Wide-eyed, he bit his lip.
Delilah actually giggled when her turn to enter the vortex came. She gripped Brandon’s hand tightly. Her cold skin needled his hand.
Brandon tried to stay focused on his goal, Sabrina. Somewhere on the other side of the light, his wife waited to be rescued. The vortex pressed in on him from all sides. If he needed to inhale, he would have been unable to get the air. The room grew smaller as he looked back.
Time seemed to cease. Brandon’s internal clock, tuned to the sun, felt out of sync. As he exited the light on the other end of the vortex, the feeling of being out of sync subsided. A void replaced it. He knew time held no meaning here. The sun never reached this place. He was safe, but felt odd without his internal clock.
Dripping water echoed around the rock-walled cave. The group stood on the banks of a slow moving river. The water looked like black ink lapping at the rocky bank. A rickety U-shaped dock with two burning torches on the far ends jutted out into the water. Two torches burned directly across the river on the other side.
“Welcome to the edge of Hell,” Thane said. “Don’t try to swim. In fact, don’t get wet at all. The water is full of old magic and will pull you down into its depths.” He pointed downriver. “Down that way are the rivers Styx to the right, leading to Tartarus, and Cocytus to the left, leading down to the Gates of Inferno. Straight across from us is the underworld, where the dead are judged.”
“What do we do now?” Camilla’s voice sounded as strong and as vibrant as it had in her youth.
Brandon spun on the spot to stare at her. His mouth dropped when he released she did not just sound young, she was young. She looked as she had when she first came to his territory over a decade ago. She still wore the flowing cotton nightgown she had on in her apartment.
“Close your mouth. You’re going to draw flies,” Delilah teased. She reached up and gave a light nudge on his chin with her finger.
“You…You’re…solid!” The first thing that came to mind blurted out of Brandon’s mouth. He reined in his shock immediately.
“And gorgeous,” Farrell added, beaming at her like he had on their wedding day.
“Yes, yes, she’s fabulous,” Delilah said, not paying them much attention. She patted her sides and the places on her skin-tight pants where pockets should have been. “Ah-ha! Here we go!” She pulled a coin out from her voluptuous cleavage. “Knew I had one somewhere.” She offered the coin to Thane.
“I’m afraid I can’t cross the river. My powers come from the underworld, but I reside between the realms. Get my scythe, and I will get you home,” Thane bargained. He vanished in a haze of shadows.
“You have got to be kidding me. Are we supposed to just make it up as we go along?” Camilla said, exasperated.
Delilah changed her appearance to the same perky blonde disguise she used for the mall. The outfit suffered from wear and tear, had blood-stains, and dirt smudged on the back. She gave the rest of them a sour expression. “I hate looking so disheveled, but I need to look like I belong here. Charon is a type of demon. He knows full well what to look for. The blood and dirt will help mask the scent.”
She walked out onto the dock. A bell appeared to one side of the torch. She rang it twice and stepped back from the edge.
Nothing seemed to be happening.
“I don’t think it worked. Ring it again,” Brandon instructed.
“It worked,” Delilah said, leaning one ear in the direction of the far bank.
Wood creaked and moaned. A heavy pole thumped rhythmically on the side of a boat. Thump, creak, thump, creak. Someone was coming.
Chapter 18
“Competition for what?” Sabrina asked, nonplused. She raffled through her mind, trying to find something worthy of making the Queen of the Underworld jealous. Zilch.
“The affections of her husband. He noticed you when you entered the netherworld and returned to the land of the living. She would take your life to protect her reign. He would seek you as a servant,” Charon answered, maintaining his distance.
“And what about you? You didn’t kill me, and you didn’t deliver me to anyone. What’s your agenda?” She hoped it was not what she thought it was.
“Companionship. You can touch both this shore and the other, as can I. Stay with me. Let me claim you for my own,” Charon said, as if it solved all the problems.
“I’m already claimed. That’s what it means to be married. If you wanted a friend, you could have asked,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her weight. She wanted the gesture to look like annoyance, instead of balancing her weight over her center.
“That is not the same thing. No one realm claims you as its own. You are fair game for anyone to take. Your magic is a blend of so many, not belonging to one or the other. You haven’t been designated a guardian of any treasure. No one knows what to do about you. This is one of the many reasons blending of the magic is not allowed. I can end all that. Stay and walk the two shores with me,” Charon requested. He stared at her in an uncomfortable way, seeming to wait for her answer.
Shocked, Sabrina found herself unable to speak. Did he really think kidnapping a woman would entice her to fall into his arms? For Pete’s sake, did he think a married woman would just throw her husband aside for the paltry reasons he just gave? And what about Camilla?
“You really need to get out more with living people. You don’t make friends by force. You don’t get a girlfriend by stealing women, and you certainly don’t endear yourself to a woman by hurting her friends. I mean, I know your job is limiting, but if you want a relationship, you’re going to have to go about
it a different way,” she said, very put out.
“Proserpina was taken by the master. She stayed,” Charon said.
Sabrina realized he truly had nothing to go on for an example. He simply mimicked an Ancient’s crime committed over three-millennia ago. Times changed. He had not.
She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. A thought occurred to her. “Okay. Let’s start from the top. Hi, my name is Sabrina,” she said, offering him her hand.
He seemed confused and did not accept the offering.
“You’re supposed to shake hands and introduce yourself,” she explained.
Charon’s expressionless, black eyes glanced at her hand and then back to her face. Stepping forward a few paces put him within arm’s reach of her. He put out his hand but did not take hers.
Sabrina shook her head and put her hand in his. She pumped his hand up and down a few times and turned it loose. “Now introduce yourself,” she prompted.
“But you know my name,” he said.
“I like a man who can manage good conversation. If I’m going to be here a while, you’re going to have to learn,” she told him. She never could lie well, but she hoped his lack of experience and social skills would make her less obvious.
“My name is Charon, the Ferryman,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, Charon. Tell me a little about yourself. Do you go up to Earth often?”
He laced his strong hands together in front of him. His sharp, dark features gave away no hint of emotion. “No. I must constantly remain by the river. It is my duty to safeguard the departed souls across the dark waters,” he replied.
“Tell me. If you have to stay here, how did you visit me in my bedroom and the parking deck?”
“Proserpina arranged to have Thanatos’ scythe taken for my use. I wanted you to come willingly, but the others interrupted. I could not use the scythe a second time. She sent my spirit in the wind the next time. You pushed me away with your magic,” he recounted, standing completely still.
The Jewel of Darkness [Celestial Jewels 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 14
