by Anne Hope
Finally two words pierced the deafening hush. “Holy shit.” It was Regan who’d spoken them. Then a cacophony of voices rose in unison to bombard him.
Jace ignored the shocked murmurs of those crowded around him. Overhead, a horned owl soared with outstretched wings, its flight desperate and furious. It let out a mournful cry as it fled.
Guided by faith alone, Jace stretched out his arms like the bird’s wings and leapt into the dark, vaporous abyss.
He fell and fell, whizzed past rough, clay walls to swim in a sea of mist. A strong, sulfurous smell assaulted him, convinced him he’d just bought himself a one-way ticket to the underworld.
Jace hit the ground, landing in a crouch. Vaulting to his feet, he checked the scabbard attached to his belt. The sleek, gleaming sword Cal had given him before they’d taken off still hung securely in place, coated in angel’s blood and ready for the kill. Humidity dampened the air, permeated his clothing and sent a chill traveling along his spine. Vapor trickled from his mouth with each breath he exhaled.
Disoriented, he aimed a glance above. Had the others abandoned him? If they had, he’d still see this through. He wouldn’t leave this hellhole without Lia. He couldn’t.
A thud punctuated the stillness, then another and another. One by one, the Watchers landed and came to stand vigil beside him.
Regan scanned her surroundings. “What is this place?”
“Some kind of trench.” Marcus’s hand rose instinctively to rest on the hilt of his sword. “Question is, where does it lead?”
Cal walked ahead of them, his gaze trained on the shadows teeming in the distance. “I think we all know the answer to that.”
Lia couldn’t tell if it was night or day. The hours blended seamlessly, one trickling into the next, like the steady flow of water. She’d slept for a while, exhausted by her tussle with Athanatos, weighed down by heavy thoughts she was unable to shake.
She couldn’t let this creature steal her light; she knew that. To do so would be to allow the Ancient to win and destroy Jace, a man she loved beyond guilt or grief or reason, even now when her soul was in tatters. The more the two distinct segments of her spirit fought to break apart, the more that love struggled to hold them together. She couldn’t bear to lose him, too. Jace was all she had left in the world worth fighting for.
As though he’d sensed her strength returning, Athanatos swept back into the opulent chamber, his long black cape billowing behind him. Lia’s heart thumped out of control.
A humorless smile curled his full lips. “Did you enjoy your nap?”
“Go to hell.”
“Look around you.” He gestured to the dank, stone walls hemming them in. “I’m already there. Hell isn’t fire and brimstone. It’s emptiness and obscurity. It’s living in another’s shadow for all of eternity. It’s having to rely on creatures you loathe for sustenance. Hell is being granted unlimited power you can barely use.”
And she’d believed Jace had issues. “How is screwing with my mind going to change any of that?”
“It won’t. But it may just remove a threat that has been hanging over my head for nearly two centuries.”
Lia pulled at her bonds, but they remained stone-hard and unyielding. “Could you at least remove the stone shackles? They’re cutting off my circulation.”
He waved his hand and the bindings crumbled to dust. Relieved, she rubbed her bruised wrists.
“Never say I wasn’t a gracious host.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
If Athanatos caught the sarcastic timbre in her voice, he didn’t let on. Instead, he palmed her head and pinned her to the headboard. She struggled, tried to claw his fingers off her, but she was no match for him. His strength exceeded even Jace’s. In a matter of seconds, he crawled inside her psyche.
Lia moaned as a crippling wave of images flared to life within her again.
Jace had no idea how long they’d been walking, when the trench morphed to tunnels that forked out in all directions. Following Lia’s silent call, he picked the one on the far left.
“Is this what I think it is?” Regan took in the stone walls surrounding them.
“The catacombs,” Cal answered in a deferential tone. “Jace’s instincts were correct.”
“How can we be sure we’re going the right way?” Marcus remained skeptical.
The pressure around Jace’s wrists and ankles suddenly abated. Before he could make sense of it, he doubled over, vicious snapshots of his past scrolling through his mind.
He gripped his head. Fell to his knees. Every vile thought he’d ever had, every unfeeling act he’d committed in his worthless existence played out like a movie in his brain, including his slow, skillful seduction of Cassie. But worse yet was the graphic depiction of his unfaithfulness and cold, calculated betrayal.
Then, as though someone had pressed fast forward, the slideshow sped up until Jace was thrust back into the whispering woods, kneeling in front of Cal, taking the blood vow.
Lia struggled to break free of Athanatos’s hold, to keep him from showing her these vicious images that tore painful strips out of her soul. But his grip was firm, and her strength was quickly waning. She didn’t even have the energy to beg him to stop.
She tried to block the pictures exploding in her head, to fortify her heart so that it wouldn’t shatter beneath the assault. She couldn’t allow Athanatos to shake her faith in Jace. Her love for him was the only thing holding her together. The person he was, the things he’d done were gone and buried. It was what he did from now on that mattered.
The scene suddenly morphed. In her mind’s eye, she saw Jace kneeling across from Cal, his arm resting on a stone altar. Lia heard the words they spoke, grasped their meaning, and her very spirit shriveled.
“Do you swear your allegiance to me and no other?”
“Yes.”
“Do you agree to live a life of celibacy devoted solely to the Watchers’ cause?”
“Yes.”
“Do you swear to live by my rule, follow my orders without question, even forfeit your life if necessary?”
“Yes.”
He’d done it. Jace had taken the blood vow.
“He’s joined them.” Athanatos echoed her thoughts. “He’s abandoned you.”
“No.” Just when Lia believed she couldn’t hurt any more, pain ripped through her.
“He’ll have no choice but to obey Cal now, and Cal demands complete devotion. There’s no room in his life for you anymore.”
“Stop it! Just stop it.” But even as she rejected Athanatos’s claim, a part of her heard a seed of truth within it. That seed took root inside her, expanded until it crushed her hope.
Why, Jace? Why did you turn your back on us?
Any chance of building a life with the man she loved vanished in a puff of smoke. It was over, the future she’d envisioned gone. Like Cassie. She had no one now.
Despair snowballed in her chest, a black hole siphoning away her strength, her sense of purpose, her very will to survive.
Sensing her defeat, Athanatos gripped her chin and inclined her head. “Finally. You’re mine.”
When Jace opened his eyes, he lay on the damp, mud-caked ground, staring up at a dozen or so Watchers, who studied him warily. “What happened?” he asked.
“You just had some kind of seizure.” Regan grabbed hold of his hand to help him to his feet.
The mother of all headaches pounded behind his temples. “No, not a seizure. A trip down memory lane.” He ran rough fingers over his face. “I know this is going to sound really corny, but I just saw my whole life flash before my eyes.”
A shadow fell to darken Cal’s pale features. “Athanatos,” he muttered, more to himself than to the others. “He’s figured it out. He’s trying to sever the link. To break Lia in half.” He captured Jace’s gaze, held it. “It’s the only way he can destroy you.”
Jace’s stomach sank. “Then we’ve gotta get a move on, speed things up. We can’t let
him succeed.”
“No,” Cal agreed, “we can’t.”
They hastened down the gloomy passageway until they reached another fork in the road. Jace stilled, hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” Cal asked.
“I’ve lost the connection. I can’t sense her.” His fingers stroked the locket.
“Come on, Lia, speak to me.”
But the gold remained cold, void of the energy that had been guiding him. “Why can’t I sense her?”
Cal’s grim expression said it all.
“No.” Jace refused to believe it was too late. If Lia no longer existed, he’d know. The part of him that had come alive in her arms would curl up and die. “He hasn’t broken her. Lia is too strong. She’ll fight him until we get there.”
“That’s a fine thought, but how will we get there without you to guide us?” Marcus argued.
“You can take over,” Cal told him. “You’re the best tracker we have.”
“My power doesn’t work down here. There’s too much dark energy, too many conflicting signatures.”
“Try,” Cal urged.
With an uncertain nod, Marcus placed his hand on Jace’s shoulder. “Your signature is practically identical to Lia’s. If I focus on it, I may be able to block out all the interference and get a lock on her.”
Jace’s impatience grew as Marcus stood there meditating, or whatever the hell it was he was doing. Still, if it helped them find Lia, he was all for it.
Marcus finally opened his eyes. “I can’t get an exact fix on her location, but my gut tells me to go this way.” He pointed to the right. “I sense darkness in its most concentrated form.”
“Athanatos,” Cal guessed. “If we find him, we find Lia.” He instantly headed down the path Marcus had indicated, and the others quickly followed.
Jace sprinted after them, wet clay covering his shoes, dampening the hem of his pants. They took a ninety-degree turn, leapt out of the tunnel, and entered a circular chamber. Flickering sconces cast shadows on the walls, dancing ghosts guarding dozens of empty prison cells. No, not prison cells. Dungeons.
Jace’s wariness skyrocketed. The stale air smelled of burnt matches and candle wax. “What the hell is this place?” Plumes of steam rose from their mouths to fog up the air.
“This is where the Nephilim once kept their prisoners,” Cal explained. “Souls were stronger back then, whole. The Nephilim had to work much harder to steal them. So they kidnapped their victims, usually children because their essences were the purest, and kept them here, in these cells, until they broke them.”
A moment of silence passed between the Watchers, Cal looking somber, Marcus grave and focused, Regan revolted. She walked into one of the open cells, retrieved a tattered, handmade doll from the corner. “I wonder how long this has been here.”
Cal took the doll from her. “Too long,” he whispered. Sadness swept over his tired face, making him look old and beaten. “We have to keep moving.” His voice betrayed none of the turmoil his face had portrayed only seconds ago.
Before they could venture forward, a change came into the atmosphere. Black energy congealed around them. Jace tunneled his vision, scanning the darkened corners of the catacombs. A group of Kleptopsychs was heading their way.
“They’re coming.” Regan had seen them, too.
Marcus’s sword cleaved the air, his fluid movements matched by all those who stood behind him.
The Watchers took a step forward just as a dozen or so Kleptopsychs burst into the chamber to deliberately block all the exits.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
With a cold, victorious smile, Athanatos lowered his face to Lia’s, pinned her to the headboard, and prepared to administer the kiss.
She shuddered, jerked back. “No. I won’t give it to you. You can’t take it.” Jace might have given up on her, but she wasn’t ready to give up on him. Not yet.
Athanatos retreated, surprised by her resistance. “You’re trying my patience,” he growled.
He dug his fingers in her hair and brutally crushed her mouth with his, sucking the air from her lungs. Her soul shivered, fought to break free from her body, but she held on to it with nothing more than the power of her will.
She wouldn’t die. Not before she saw Jace one last time. Not before she looked into his eyes and knew for a fact that he’d forsaken her.
Athanatos released her with a violent shove that sent her head slamming into the headboard. “I will win,” he promised. “It’s just a matter of time.”
A rap on the door pried his attention from her. He raised his hand, and the door flew open. “What?” he roared.
One of his guards entered, looking cowed. “We have a situation, my lord.” The creature kept his head bowed and refrained from making eye contact. “There was a flood in the water chamber. Several Kleptopsychs have drowned.”
“Diahann.” The Ancient’s deadpan expression betrayed no emotion, but the cold timbre in his voice could’ve frozen the sun. He turned to the guard. “Get me Kyros. Now.”
The Kleptopsychs closed in on the Watchers, deadly blades raised, and the ding of metal striking metal began to echo through the catacombs. A tall creature with bright red hair and intense black eyes swung his sword at Jace, throwing him off balance. Jace fell on his back, managed to roll out of the way, just as his attacker sliced the air with his blade. Hopping on the balls of his feet, Jace returned the blow. The sword struck the Kleptopsych in the throat. Blood, smoke and white light instantly gushed from the wound, and the creature shriveled and fell.
Two Kleptopsychs charged Regan. Quick as a heartbeat, she vanished and reappeared behind them, cutting them both down.
One by one, their opponents fell, but new ones just as swiftly appeared to take their place. The Watchers were severely outnumbered.
Cal stepped forward and raised his hands. Instantly, their enemies soared to the ceiling, where they remained fixed, as if gravity had ceased to exist.
Jace stared at the guy with blatant awe. If Cal’s powers weren’t what they used to be, he could only imagine what he’d been able to do before they’d waned.
“I can’t hold them for long,” Cal said. “Marcus and Regan, go with Jace. Find Lia. Now.”
Jace was more than happy to comply.
“Hang in there, Lia. I’m coming for you.”
“Hang in there, Lia. I’m coming for you.”
The words resounded in Lia’s head, a soothing mantra, healing what was broken. It had been an eternity since she’d heard Jace, felt him reach out to that part of her that had once belonged to him. Now he was here, so close, telling her to hang on. He hadn’t abandoned her.
But he’d taken Cal’s sacred oath, which meant he was forbidden to love—to kiss her and hold her and make love to her. His place was with the Watchers now, a world that was off limits to her. Still, his nearness reawakened her hope.
In the far left corner of the stodgy room, Athanatos stood conversing with Kyros. They mentioned Diane’s name a couple of times, spoke of the flood in the water chamber, then Kyros said something about a disturbance in the western tunnels.
Athanatos sneered. “The Watchers.”
Kyros nodded. “I’ve sent a group of soldiers to divert them.”
“How did Cal and his dogs gain access to the catacombs? My shields are impenetrable.”
“It looks like they came in through the doorway you opened for me the day I escaped from the Watchers’ complex.”
So Regan was right. That was how he’d made it back to The Beach Palace with the angel’s blood so quickly.
The Ancient’s jaw twitched. “I made sure to seal that entrance.”
“Well, obviously they found a way to gain access to it.” Kyros shot Lia a greedy look, ripe with disgust. “They’re coming for her. They can’t fulfill the prophecy without her. You must hurry and take her light before Cutler can.”
“She’s not ready yet. I need more time.”
“Time is running out. T
hey’re almost upon us.”
Silence stretched, cold and silky. “How much angel’s blood do we have left?”
“Not much,” Kyros replied. “We used nearly two-thirds of our supply at The Beach Palace.”
“Then you’ll just have to make every drop count.”
“I intend to.” Kyros turned to leave.
“Don’t venture too deep into the western tunnels,” the Ancient warned. “I plan to raise an obstacle or two.” He balled his hands into fists, and the entire chamber quaked menacingly.
“Understood.”
As Kyros slunk away, Athanatos lifted his arms, his palms facing the ceiling, his blank gaze riveted on some distant point beyond the walls.
The ground rumbled in response, and Lia grabbed hold of the bed frame to steady herself. Athanatos had forgotten to restore her shackles. Or maybe he simply hadn’t bothered because he figured she was too weak to attempt an escape.
Finding her balance, she crawled out of bed and inched toward the door Kyros had neglected to close. As quietly as her soft-soled shoes allowed, she circled the chamber until Athanatos’s back was to her, then made a beeline for the exit.
The urge to run seized her, but she tamped it down, afraid of drawing the Ancient’s attention. Instead, she carved a steady path toward freedom.
She was almost there, just a few more steps…
The door clunked shut.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Athanatos asked in a saccharine whisper that startled her worse than a scream. “I’m not done with you yet.”
The deeper they got into the Kleptopsychs’ underground world, the more the scene morphed. Clay gave way to stone. Multi-colored pebbles formed mosaics on the gray walls, though Jace couldn’t really make out a pattern. At even intervals, stone columns rose to break the monotony. Each new tunnel mirrored the last, meant to disorient and confuse.
“We’re lost,” Regan moaned. “Marcus, any idea where we’re going?”
