Dad’s face turned ruddy as a brick, and his mouth pulled tighter. “You’re certainly—”
“Efficient. I take a great deal of pride in that, sir. I've ordered supper from Palumbo's for you and Mrs. Luckett as well. I know you don't like to eat on the plane. It will be waiting for you at the front counter.”
He huffed and then pointed at Prudence. “I want to talk to you the moment I get back.” With that, he stormed out of her office.
She waited until he was out of earshot. “I owe you. Big.”
Connie turned around. The fake smile had been replaced by the start of some serious frown lines. “No, you don’t. If this works, we’ll all owe you. Now skedaddle. And take care with my brother. He’s all I have left.”
∙•∙
“Don’t ever hide behind a text again.” Jesse yanked back the brush barrier he’d made to cover Swift's secret entrance into Hell and tossed it aside with attitude. “I waited for you. You should have driven directly to my cabin, especially after finding the box. You don’t know who might have seen you carrying away what most likely contains the original scrolls.”
“We won’t know that until Swift opens it.”
“All I’m saying is, if you’re running late—call.”
“Every minute is precious these days. Driving to the cabin would waste an extra fifteen minutes on each end of the trip, not counting the drive from your place to here. I figure it saves me about an hour. An hour I could be sleeping.” She gripped the rope handle on the small door.
“I’ve told you before”—he spoke close to her ear—“stay overnight if you’re too tired.” His ragged breath, his low Tennessee drawl, his invitation that incited visions of not being tired at all, set flutters of want in motion.
An unwanted ribbon of shivers coursed down her back and into her belly. She couldn’t stay, though his couch pulled out into a bed. Sleeping so close to him without touching was a torture she wouldn’t endure again.
“I sleep better in my own bed and sleep is what I need.”
She tugged on the rope, but Jesse slapped a hand flat against the door and cursed.
“It’s the souls, isn’t it? They’re keeping you up. Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have let you take on anyone other than Ellie while we we’re looking for the scrolls.”
She twisted around. “You don’t let me do anything. I choose. And I’m not going to leave someone behind when I’m designed to save them from damnation.”
The extra souls she’d accumulated over the last couple of weeks also weren’t the only reason she didn’t sleep well, but Jesse didn’t need to know.
“I’m not saying never. I’m saying not now. We don’t know enough about your gift or its limitations for you to push yourself. And stop being pissed off because I give a shit about your well-being.”
Giving a shit about her well-being was only part of what she wanted from Jesse. But he’d made it perfectly plain he wasn’t going to share his secret.
She sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be testy. Sneaking out with the box was…difficult.”
Prudence thought about the close call with her father, almost sure he knew what they were up to.
“I’d have helped you if I could.”
“I know.”
With a jerk that hurt her shoulder, she hauled back the door. A hot blast of decaying earth rolled out, smacking her in the face. She choked and coughed on stench.
“Is it me or is the smell getting worse?” She cupped her hand over her nose as she walked inside.
“Men don’t detect degrees of stink. It smells, or it doesn’t.” Jesse stepped around her and set his fancy torch on its base. “Let’s find the next scroll tonight.” He clicked a button, and a soft glow illuminated the forgotten corner of the underworld.
The secondary access to Hell still gave her the chills, though they’d run more than a few missions.
She gazed up and around, thinking how much it might resemble the underside of a grave. The entryway was a hollowed-out swath of hard-packed red earth—walls, ceiling, and floor a single curved mass. Tree roots dangled twenty feet overhead like so many bony arms. The creek ran wide and fast at her feet.
At least there were no illusions to mess with her mind.
Grunting, Jesse hefted the wooden bridge leaning against the wall and dropped it over the narrowest part of the creek. He picked up his lantern by the side handle and pointed to the bridge.
“Watch your step. One of the boards is loose at the far end. I saw it bounce when it dropped.”
“It’s this one.” Niall pointed from the other side of the creek. He must have materialized, sensing they’d arrived.
She crossed, mindful of the damaged board.
“How are the souls?” He appeared more solid, less ghost than usual.
“They’re vocally quiet, but their sorrows weigh pretty heavy.”
“A good argument for not taking on any more.” Jesse removed the bridge and hid it in a carved-out niche behind some roots. “We need to find that damn door. You may be the Vessel, but I don’t think you’re meant for long-term storage.”
“Or spy work. I feel like everyone’s watching me. Especially Dad.”
Jesse regarded her with a hard stare.
“It's why I was late. He wanted to have a heart-to-heart.”
“Great.” He slapped his hand to his forehead and massaged his temples. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. Connie came to my rescue.” She swung her backpack off her shoulders. “In fact, he should be out of our way for at least a week, thanks to her. He might have missed me altogether if Boone hadn’t been hanging around my office.”
“Boone?” Jesse sounded genuinely surprised, like she wouldn’t interact with other Runners. “Why was he ‘hanging’ around?”
“Tagged him to carry the box for me. And you know him.” She tore back the zipper to rummage through her backpack. “He’s a talker.”
He crossed his arms over his puffed out chest and made a face like he’d tasted something sour. “Yeah. I do know him.”
Sheesh. What was his problem tonight?
Not wanting to waste more time, she located the page with Swift’s instructions for Niall and removed it from the backpack. Since the shade couldn’t hold the page, she’d increased the font size for easier reading.
“Do you know where this is?” She raised the page above her head to his eye level.
The spirit’s eyes roved the paper, and then his massive form seemed to shrink. He dragged a hand over his mouth, pulling it into a frown.
“Well? Do you know or not?” Jesse tapped his foot, a new habit.
“Yes. I’ve been there. Don’t know why, but I had wanted to meet Ugolino.” He paused, and for a change, she knew it wasn’t to be dramatic. “That’s a lie. I wanted to say I stared into the face of pure evil and know I wasn’t like him. To know for certain, I wasn’t…” Niall trailed off and then shook his head and closed his eyes. “This scroll must be big for the Cannibal Count to guard it. I swore I’d never go back.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Like always, they fell through the fissure holding onto each other. Unlike always, Jesse didn’t set her down gently or linger longer than necessary with his hands on her waist.
No wonder. Their mission meant sneaking past the infamous Ugolino, the count that devoured his grown sons to save his own life. Any form of tenderness would feel plain wrong.
Though reluctant to return and witness the worst spectacle he’d experienced in his long life, the shade trudged dutifully ahead of them.
“Look, Princess. If you want to hang back on this one, I’ll understand. I don’t think—”
“That I can handle it?” she blurted, pissed off he’d suggest such a thing.
“I was going to say I don’t think I could handle it. Ugolino may have started out life a good man, but he turned batshit crazy at some point. Probably when his enemies shoved him and his family in prison. Proved he was a disho
norable asshole deep down, just like they thought. That’s how he wound up down here and how Rodin chose to sculpt him preparing to wolf down his kids. And it’s fucking famous. The hideous centerpiece of the fountain at the Paris office.”
“The master’s obsession and strength was always about capturing the human condition during times of trial.”
“This Kiss isn’t. It’s pretty hot.”
“Depends on how you look at it. The Kiss depicts Francesca and Paolo from Dante’s Inferno. Paolo was Francesca’s brother-in-law so, hot or not, they’re big old cheaters. Originally The Kiss was a relief on the Gates of Hell, but Rodin removed them.”
“At least they didn’t eat anyone. Damn. I’m seriously creeped out. If Swift hadn’t insisted he needed this scroll, I’d bag this mission.”
“We can’t bag the mission. Get your mind in the game.” She shot the order a little too harsh and knew it.
“I am in the game.” His brows furrowed deeply. “What’s with you? Why you touchy all of a sudden?”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you. You’re all…different.”
“Me?” He snorted. “I’m not mysteriously late or hiding behind texts or—flirting with notorious man-whores.”
Boone? She laughed out loud. He couldn’t be serious.
“One.” She held up an index finger. “I can’t help being late sometimes. It’s part of any job. Two.” She added another finger. “I did hide behind the text, and I’m sorry. I wanted my way, but I can’t promise I might not do it again. And three.” She added a final finger and then dropped her hand. “I don’t flirt with Boone or anyone else. But if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your damn business. You’ve made it perfectly clear you don’t want a personal relationship.”
Jesse corralled her into a corner of the tunnel, pinning her in on both sides with his arms. Bending at the elbows, he lowered his face to within inches of hers.
“Don’t you dare act like I don’t have feelings—for you. You fucking know better. Our relationship has been more than professional from day one.”
Her heart pounded as she fought the urge to kiss him. His face was that close. “Then why don’t you—”
“I can’t. And be glad for it.” He slapped the wall and then pushed off. “I can’t ask you not to be with someone else, but I expect the courtesy of not rubbing it in my face.”
“I didn’t rub any—”
“Are we raiding Ugolino’s coffers or not?” Niall turned and pierced them with a ghostly stare.
The heat of embarrassment rose into her cheeks. “Sorry. We were—”
“Inappropriately distracted. After what I told you, I’d have expected a little reverence for our weighty mission.”
Embarrassment morphed into shame.
“Everything is connected,” Jesse said. “The Prophecy, the roles we play, our relationship. I’d expect you of all people to understand.”
“I do. But I also know the sun will soon set on Ugolino, and we don’t want to be there when it does.” He raised a finger. “Priorities.”
“Priorities,” she repeated, giving him a nod. “Let’s go.”
The shade maneuvered between them. “I think it best Jesse use his sight to lead from this point forward. Gifts need to be honed as much as skill.”
Behind her partner, they wound through long tunnels of pyrite, the surface rough with sparkly bits, the air dank and musty. No one spoke a word, but she felt the aftershocks of so much exposed emotion down to her sweaty socks.
After about ten minutes of uncomfortable silence, a schuzz, like the tossing of a distant ocean, echoed through the passage.
“What’s that noise?” she asked Niall.
He shushed her with a finger to his lips as they descended a bend so narrow and steep she had to place her hands on each side of the corridor for balance.
To her relief, the path widened near the bottom. She heaved a sigh, only to suck it back on a gasp. Their route ended at the source of the deafening sound.
An aqua waterfall, more powerful than it was beautiful, rushed with the intensity of a runaway train. Water plummeted into a chasm on either side of a narrow, worn path.
“I'd say it was stunning if it wasn't in Hell.” She searched both sides of the tunnel, looking for a hidden road that circumvented the treacherous falls. “And blocking our way. How do we get around it?”
Jesse stared at the rush of water as if he could change its course.
“Not around.” Niall sighed so hard she thought he might shrink. “We pass through.”
“Pass through? We'll be pummeled to death.” If she was going to die in Hell, it would be saving a soul, not here.
Her partner skimmed his fingers along the satiny surface and then pulled them back. He rubbed his thumb once over all four. “No, we won’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” He stroked his index from the bridge of her nose to the tip.
“Dry?” She reached out, gingerly plinking a finger against the turquoise shaft. “So this is an illusion? Not real?”
Niall waggled a finger at them. “You know it will be far more complicated and treacherous.” He pointed along the ground under the falls. “The path continues over the chasm, but see how it tapers?”
She crouched and examined the change in the track, not liking the few feet she could see. “Looks like a balance beam.”
“Precisely. And you know what happens when you fall off a balance beam.”
“The judges ding your score.” Jesse stooped beside him and squinted at the trail.
“And you do not want to be dinged. It’s an illusion over the path only. One misstep and the weight of thirty-five hundred pounds per square inch will mash you like overcooked potatoes.” He stood, moving onto the trail in front of them. “Follow my every step. Do not waver one inch. And be hyper alert. I can’t be sure what will greet us on the other side.”
More nervous of falling than confronting the notorious Ugolino, she lined up behind Niall, her feet toe-to-heel with her arms outstretched.
“Not so fast, Princess.” Jesse barged in front of her, taking her by the wrists. “One—you can’t hold your arms out. The water will pull you down.” He lowered her hands to her sides. “And two—Niall doesn’t know what we’ll find. Only there’s a cannibal waiting for us.”
“One time only. He was a cannibal of convenience. Not a real cannibal.”
“I can’t believe you’re drumming up sympathy for a pyscho. He ate his two dead kids to save his own life. That’s fucked up no matter how you look at it.”
“It’s not sympathy. I’m trying to remain positive.”
“Remain smart instead.” Jesse guided her in front of him. “We’ll keep each other steady.” He wrapped his large hands around her waist and edged up so close behind her that she could feel his thighs nudge her bottom. “On the count of three, start with your left foot.”
With Niall leading and Jesse balancing her, they slipped to the other side without so much as a falter.
Sunshine bright as any summer afternoon glistened off a damp lawn of bluegrass mowed to a perfect inch-high buzz cut. Trimmed hedges of low boxwood and tall yews formed the perimeters of the lush gardens filled with colorful flowers and ornate topiary shrubs.
Happy, squealing children, ranging between the ages of two to maybe twenty, ran from one end of the bucolic space to the other in what appeared to be a spirited game of tag. On the surface, she might have believed they’d walked into paradise.
She instantly learned the truth. Waves of terror emanated off the children, so strong the sensation almost bowled her back into the falls.
“I can tell you are not fooled,” a masculine voice said from behind her.
She turned to see a hulking, slump-shouldered man stand up from a bench beside the waterfall.
Head bowed in shame, he mumbled, “It's all my fault. My fault they are damned.”
A far less frightening, less imposing figure than Niall had led he
r to believe, she didn’t hesitate to speak her mind to the famed Ugolino.
“Yeah. It is. Your selfishness overpowered their desire to pass into Heaven. They’re loyal to you. So loyal they avoided the light of Heaven and waited for you to die. Then you dragged them down here.”
He didn’t reply or lift his head.
“Don’t you feel any regret?” When again he didn’t answer, she focused on the children. “I thought you had only two sons. I count eight.”
Finally, he raised his long face. Never had she seen so many wrinkles or eyes set so deep in the sockets. He stretched his lips thin, swallowing hard before answering.
“My two boys’ souls have been split, over and over, so I may watch them in each phase of their life. Multiplying my torment.”
“Have the demons ever harmed them?” Jesse avoided the Cannibal Count, keeping his sights on the open field.
“Not as much as I.” His dark eyes glazed with sorrow as he braced an arm on the bench for support. “And I will do it again. I will consume my own children by the set of the false sun.” He smoothed a palm over his bare pate. “You can see the demons, young man?”
Jesse looked over his shoulder at them. “Yes. They’re disguised as children, but I see their real faces.”
“You possess the blessed sight then.” Speaking as if to himself, the man lowered onto the bench. “And you found the path. There were rumors the Pathfinder and Vessel were coming, but I didn't believe them.”
“Rumors? How are there rumors?” She couldn’t believe any of the damned would know about the Prophecy.
“You can’t expect to run all over Hell’s creation and not be noticed. And there are those who watch. And report. I am well acquainted with the consequences of informers.”
“Report to who?” Her stomach braced, afraid of the answer.
“Who cares,” Niall said, impatiently. “The sun will set soon. We must complete our purpose.”
“I’m with the ghost.” Jesse hitched his jeans. “Let’s get on with it. We've come for the scroll.”
Rule Breakers, Soul Takers (Hell Runners Book 1) Page 24
