Then I ran.
My world became nothing but a blur of orange and searing pain. I stumbled twice when my legs went numb. I fell more times than I could count. My hair burned around my face, and even in the midst of such a horrible decision, I mourned for my auburn curls.
My eyes blurred with tears. I fell again, into fire deep enough to consume me. I couldn’t find my feet, or my balance, so I crawled. My skin sloughed off on stone that cooked my body. When the tips of my fingers burned entirely away and I could see the char of bone, I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and continued.
I would continue. I would always continue.
I visualized my dad’s face. Healthy Dad, who chuckled at his own jokes and called me “chickie” because the chickadee was fiercely proud and haughty. Dad who patiently taught me everything he knew, even when I had a hard time grasping concepts, because he knew I was stronger than I could ever imagine.
Suddenly, the heat and pain disappeared. I crawled forward several inches, eyes closed, before I fully comprehended the lack of noise and blistering heat. My body was no longer numb. I no longer hurt.
I opened my eyes.
Scott stood in front of me appearing slightly impressed. He held out a hand. “Well done, Brigitta. I admire your persistence.”
The hand I placed in his wasn’t charred bone and flayed skin. It was my hand, a little more pink and tender than usual, but intact.
“I have fingers,” I said dumbly.
I may have imagined it, but the briefest of grins touched his face.
“You have balls,” he corrected. He dropped my hand and led the way forward.
* * *
WE FOLLOWED A NARROW, CURVING pathway down the rock face of a new cavern. Far on the other side, faded in the darkness as if painted there, another opening loomed. Who knew how many caves we had left to pass before we reached the river?
“Who did you piss off?” I asked.
Scott glanced at me. “I’m sorry?”
“To get this job. ‘Gates of hell’ bellboy.”
He pursed his lips as if being called the ‘gates of hell bellboy’ wasn’t amusing. I thought it was amusing.
“I killed the wrong person.”
His answer took me aback. “You’ve killed people?”
“I’m a vampire.”
“But… a good one, right?” I said brightly.
“Sure. We can go with that.”
“Those exist, right? ‘Good’ vampires?” I stumbled as a pile of rocks gave way beneath my foot. My leg slid out from under me, and I pitched toward the edge of the path.
Scott grabbed my arm before I had a chance to fall. He righted me and waited until my gummy legs had found purchase again before letting me go.
“Thanks. Nice reflexes.” I listened to the rocks tumble one by one down into the ravine below. My heart hammered with every thud, because that could have been me.
“‘Good’ is subject to interpretation,” Scott said, answering my question as if I hadn’t nearly fallen to my death.
“Is saving my life in the hell bellboy contract?”
“No.”
“But you just did,” I pointed out. “Interpret that.”
A real smile crossed his face — brief and flitting, but real. “Touché, Brigitta.”
“You can call me Gitta,” I told him. “All my friends do.”
“I told you — ”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re not friends. Keep telling yourself that.” I punched him in the arm like a nerd.
He chuckled. “You’re a pushy witch.”
“And you’re a crabby vampire. We make a great team.”
“Against my better judgment.”
* * *
WE PASSED THE REST OF the cavern in silence, and then another. And another. Until I felt I would go crazy from the monotony and the eons of weight settling around me in the womb of the earth.
“This is insanity,” I told him, gesturing to yet another identical cave. “Are we walking in circles?”
“Feels like it,” Scott said. He didn’t stop walking.
“That’s not a real answer.”
“What do you think?”
I looked around me, noting all the identical stalactites. “It’s the same.”
“Is it?” He finally stopped walking and turned to face me.
I didn’t stop fast enough, and I collided with his muscular chest. He smelled of leather and a mixture of heady herbs that reminded me of Nature’s Magick. My mouth watered. My knees turned jiggly.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Scott said gruffly. He gripped my biceps and gently pushed me away.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to eat me.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re the vampire, not me!”
He set his finger just below my ear and trailed it agonizingly slow down my neck. His cold skin burned like the sun, worse than the fire I’d walked through, but so achingly good. He went further, over the hill of my collar bone and down the inner mound of my breast.
He leaned forward, his lips to my ear. “I hear every pump of your heart. Your blood sings to me. I want to taste you.”
Fuck. His finger remained between my breasts, as if he were testing the strength of my heart. Every word and motion had been predator-on-prey, but damn if my head didn’t tilt ever-so-slightly to welcome his teeth.
“Do it,” I whispered. I put my hands to his stomach, trailed my palms up his chest. “Bite me.”
He stepped abruptly backwards, my wrists caught in his vise-like grip. “Don’t test me, Gitta. Witch blood is the best there is. If I open your vein, you become mine. Neither us wants that.”
Heat puddled low within me. “Become yours how?”
His pupils dilated. One moment, his beautiful red-brown irises shone, the next, I saw nothing but black. His mouth opened, canines showing. He jerked me against him with a growl. “Stop.”
“If you’re telling me to stop being turned on, you’re going to have to let me go.” I pressed into him, molding us together, my breath coming faster. I tugged against his grip, and said huskily, “Hurt me harder, Scott.”
“Dammit, Gitta!” He pushed me away, rougher than necessary. “I’m not a good vampire. I’m not a good person. Stop being so fucking charming.”
“Well, I have to make up for your lack of charm,” I said hotly, rubbing my wrists.
He spoke over his shoulder as he walked away. “My name is Ras. The next time you call me ‘Scott,’ I’ll leave you behind.”
I searched for a witty comeback, something to take the sting out of my leftover libido. Before I could open my mouth, I caught sight of a shadow moving swiftly toward us — a black mass, aiming right for Scott.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The mass moved quickly and silently. I had a split second to decide to yell or act, because the set of Scott’s shoulders told me he was too mad at me to sense what was happening.
I ripped the gun out of my pants and fired.
My first shot went wide, but my second hit. The blasts nearly deafened me. I fell on my ass from the force — big for such a tiny gun. Either that, or I was a wilting violet.
Scott growled and lunged at the mass. A brief tussle ensued before another gunshot rang out in the cavern. I fell backwards, covering my head. Silence fell.
The vampire appeared over me, gun in hand. “You okay?”
“Yeah. What was that?”
“A hound. They feed on anything that moves. Fuck me for not sensing it. You saved my life.”
“Just returning the favor.” I sat up, stones rolling beneath my ass. “It’s my fault you didn’t sense it. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He tucked the gun back into his jeans and helped me to my feet. “I overreacted.”
We stared at each other, less than a foot of space between us. I reached out and brushed dirt from his cheek.
“Been doing this a long time,” he said, touching my face. “Never met a girl like you. I’m
not equipped for this.”
“Trust me, no one is,” I joked, sad as his hand fell away.
He glanced over my shoulder, then looked back at me. The briefest hint of emotion touched his eyes. “Round two.”
I turned to find the cavern had transformed into a New York street at night. People milled in front of bars, laughing and chatting. Horns honked in the distance. A light fog drifted around us.
And heading right for us, a woman.
I felt like I was looking into a mirror, except for the giant bump under her tunic and a few more lifelines around her eyes. She hurried down the sidewalk, an old Nokia cell phone pressed to her ear. The luminous smile on her face made me think she was talking to my dad.
She stepped into the street, looking both ways as she did so to ensure traffic was clear. It was late, and the sun had set. A few indistinguishable shadows passed me — others out for a stroll, enjoying the weather. I didn’t recognize the area of town, but it was clear of the usual obnoxious cars clogging up the roads.
Mom laughed. The sound ripped into me, and I stopped breathing. It was beautiful — a tinkle, so perfectly pure, so full of life.
A sports car parked on the curb gunned the engine and whipped into the street. I opened my mouth to scream, to warn her, but stopped before any sound came out. What difference did it make? This wasn’t real. I couldn’t change the past.
So, I watched the car plow into her. I watched her body fly ten feet through the air and skid across the concrete. The car squealed tires and drove away, smoke trailing from its undercarriage.
I rushed to my mother’s side and knelt, tears rolling down my cheeks. Her green eyes may as well have been mine, but glassy with death. Sirens filled the distance — the EMTs, coming to save me. I reached for her hand.
And she was gone.
I remained on my knees, staring at the place where my mother had bled out. Not a trace of her remained, though I couldn’t erase the memory of her broken body from my sight.
“Was that how it happened?” I asked through a throat edged in grief.
“I can’t say for sure,” Scott responded, “but this is the most truthful of all the tests.”
“What did this accomplish?” My voice was harsh. “Just to torture me?”
“They test you based on what’s reality versus what’s not. They want to know you can tell the difference here.”
I wiped away my tears. “Did I pass?”
“You didn’t react. Didn’t try to help her or change things. You knew it wasn’t real. Was that your mother?”
I hadn’t heard him speak so many words at one time. “Yeah. She was pregnant with me when she died.”
He didn’t respond. I didn’t feel it was necessary to fill the silence after watching my mother die.
“Did you know it was murder?” he finally asked.
I jerked to look up at him. “Murder? No, she was hit by a car.”
“That sports car?” Scott pointed at the space where we’d seen the car only moments before. “Come on, Gitta. It was waiting for her. That was on purpose.”
Forget that he’d used my nickname again, though it sent a thrill through me. All I could focus on were the words, On purpose.
I stood, a little shakily. “I can’t… someone murdered my mom? Why?”
Scott didn’t answer. I turned.
He was gone.
Not only was he gone, but the street had vanished, replaced by a tiny dungeon-like room with cut stone walls and nothing else.
“Scott?” My voice echoed dully. “Where are you?”
No response.
The room wasn’t big enough for him to hide, and really, he wasn’t the kind of vampire to play games, anyway. I made a circuit of the four corners, prodding darkness with the toe of my boot.
Nothing.
I sighed. My last test had begun before I’d had a chance to catch my breath. Maybe that was the way of things here in the Underworld. Fuck with the humans brash enough to attempt to gain entry.
A lamp flared to life behind me. I whipped around, bracing myself.
Scott sat in a metal folding chair, his arms and legs bound with rope. His long hair flopped inelegantly over his face, but his gaze never wavered. He met my eye and held it, his beautiful, enigmatic expression giving me nothing. The lamp hung above him, illuminating him beneath a warm, golden cone of light.
“Scott?” I asked, confused.
He rolled his eyes. “Why must you continue to call me that?”
I grinned, my tension eased by his eye roll. “Because I love the idea of a vampire named Scott.”
“Of course you do.”
A second lamp awakened, and I turned to the opposite corner, unsure what to expect.
Never in a million years would I have expected my father.
He sat in an identical cone of light, his arms and legs bound like Scott’s. He looked tired and worn, his thick black hair lank against his neck. Black lines traced roads up his neck and decorated his face like the deltas of a well-worn river. The poison.
“Hey, chickie.”
“Daddy… Is that really you?” I took a step toward him, shocked. The emotional trial had obviously been fake — I felt as if I’d been dreaming the entire time, especially since it started with the death of a woman I’d never met.
But here, I was aware and the room was cold. Had he been pulled to the underworld just to test me?
I looked over my shoulder at Scott. He didn’t move.
Then a third lamp popped on, and I faced a robed figure who held a wicked gun in his hand.
Instinct made me reach for the gun at my hip. My hand met nothing but my jeans and Scott’s jacket. The gun was gone.
The robed figure pointed his weapon at Scott and then swiveled it to my father.
“Choose,” it intoned in a garbled bass.
“What?” My heart began to pound.
“Choose.”
I couldn’t stop myself from seeking Scott’s face, imploring him with my eyes what I was supposed to do. But he remained mute and immovable.
“Chickie? Where are we?” my father asked, gazing around the room. “Jerick said you went out. You’ve been gone a long time.”
I stared at him. He looked like my dad. He sounded like my dad. But my dad had fallen into a deep and impenetrable unconsciousness hours before.
One day left.
“Choose,” the robed figure barked.
“Fuck off!” I snapped back, irritated at his prodding.
Scott laughed.
There was something in that laugh that rivaled the sound of my father’s voice. Something real and raw. Something as pure as my mother’s tinkling giggles. I moved away from the robed figure, Scott’s mahogany eyes following my every move.
“I think it’s sad you live down here alone,” I told him. I knelt on the ground in front of him and leaned into his knees to look him fully in the eye. “You’re beautiful. And there’s kindness in you, under all that crabby vampire.”
His chest rose and fell like an ocean beneath his shirt. I slipped my fingers up the fabric to press a palm over his heart. It didn’t beat, not like mine. I felt a lazy glug-glug, intermittent and barely there.
“I want to know you,” I said.
His eyes grew hard. “Is this goodbye?”
“No. I don’t do goodbyes.” I leaned forward, my lips close enough to touch his. “The other,” I said loudly, and kissed my vampire as the gun fired at my father.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I didn’t see the lights fade or the ropes binding Scott fall away. His strong hands lifted me onto his lap, opening my legs so that I straddled him, and the kiss deepened.
I thought his lips would feel cold, the way his skin did. If they were, I didn’t notice, too lost in the sensation of his mouth and tongue and his gentle hands roaming my body.
“Did I pass?” I asked breathlessly, reaching for the hem of his shirt. I ripped the tee over his head, sending his blond hair into a riot. As hi
s shirt fluttered to the ground, I buried my hands in hair so soft it seemed unreal. I didn’t really need to be told I had passed. Nothing was real here.
Nothing except Scott.
“Yes,” he answered, lips crashing back to mine.
He tugged his sweatshirt off my shoulders, and my sweater, letting both fall away from us. He eased me to the floor, trailing kisses down my neck. He unbuttoned my pants, and I lifted my hips to help him peel them away, both of us laughing as they got stuck on my boots.
Then I was naked atop the cold stone floor, Scott’s clothes piled around us and his hard body pressed against mine.
He kissed me softly, even tenderly, and then pulled away. “We can’t go back from this, Gitta.”
“I’ll need you to explain that to me later,” I said. “I don’t have time for it right now.”
Then I shifted just enough for him to fill me.
I gasped at the shocking cold of his body inside me, until he began to move. His lips passed over mine, to my neck, where he nipped at my skin. Heat hung between us, and I moaned.
I clutched at his back, afraid if I let go I’d float away. I angled my head. “Please.”
He licked my neck, and then his teeth pierced my skin.
The sensation of him moving inside me and my blood pouring into him was too much. I let go of everything and rode the waves of his passion.
Time moved. The planets aligned. I remained wrapped up in him, happy to postpone my journey into hell for just a few moments longer.
* * *
WE PASSED THROUGH A DOOR in the dungeon wall and emerged on the open banks of an underground river.
“The River Styx,” I murmured. Even after everything I’d been through, it still seemed strange the place existed.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Scott asked. He’d been subdued since we unraveled our bodies and dressed to leave. More subdued than usual, I mean.
“I have to. I’ve come this far.”
He nodded. “I can accompany you in the boat, but I can’t go any further than that.”
Fragile Magick (Descent Trilogy Book 1) Page 7
