The Beyond (A Devil's Isle Novel)

by Chloe Neill

  “There’s what we’re calling food,” Liam said, putting a bowl of postwar yaka mein in front of both of them. We’d adapted the New Orleans staple, using ramen noodles, canned broth, green onions, and beef jerky stewed until tender.

  Not quite the prewar classic. But close enough to fill the belly.

  “What’s the latest?” Gavin asked.

  “They hit two of the pumping stations,” Gunnar said, grimacing as he chewed beef. “Two guards dead, because Seelies are assholes.”

  “No objection,” Moses said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  Gunnar nodded, drank broth. “Everyone is running on empty. Exhausted. And tired of saying good-bye to friends. Which is why you have approval to go into the Beyond to obtain the elements necessary to complete the Devil’s Snare. Tomorrow.”

  I was simultaneously excited and terrified.

  He looked up at me. “The team will consist of Gavin, Liam, Claire, Malachi”—he shifted his gaze to Malachi—“and Captain Lewis.”

  Malachi’s answer was immediate. “No. She’s military, and they will see her as a threat.”

  “Then you better figure out a way to finesse that, because this is nonnegotiable. Commandant’s orders.” He wiped his mouth, met Malachi’s gaze. “She’s good in the field, and you know that. You’ve got trackers, humans with magic. You could use someone trained in field operations.”

  When Malachi didn’t respond, Gunnar picked up his spoon again. “And she’s outside waiting.”

  “Ooh, well played,” Tadji murmured into her mug of tea, smiling politely at Malachi when he looked her way. “I mean, you have to admit.”

  “I do not have to admit anything. I am under no obligation to—”

  “It’s an expression,” I intervened, before things got ugly. Eight years in our world, and he was still working on the nuances.

  “This party is going to be better than I thought,” Moses said, hopping down from his chair. “I’ll let her in.”

  “It’s not a party,” Tadji said.

  “It is now,” Moses murmured.

  I rolled my eyes, looked apologetically at Malachi. “Are you going to be okay with this?”

  “Moses or Rachel?” he asked dryly.

  “It looks like both are inevitable.”

  “And we’re all adults,” Burke said, pouring pepper sauce into his broth.

  “And that,” Tadji agreed.

  Moses came in, Rachel behind him. No fatigues today, just jeans and a fitted tank top that showed her well-toned arms.

  “Hi,” she said, and we nodded.

  “I don’t know most of you as well as you know each other, and it probably feels like I’m an unwanted appendage. But I’ve got skills, and I can handle myself. And I’ve got the Commandant’s backing.” A corner of her mouth lifted. “So if this goes bad, you can blame me.”

  “Get the girl a seat,” Moses said, and Liam pulled out a chair.

  “Do you need food?” Gavin asked.

  “No, I’m okay. Thanks.” She sat down and looked around the table. “But I do think we should review the plan and logistics.”

  “Agreed,” I said. “I’d feel a lot better if I had some idea where we’re going.”

  “Well, Claire, there’s this thing called the Veil.”

  Moses did the honor of punching Gavin in the arm.

  “I didn’t deserve that,” he muttered.

  “You did,” Gunnar said with a smile that looked a little cheerier. “I’ll go with you as far as Belle Chasse. The outpost will help you get through the first obstacle.”

  “Which is?” Tadji asked.

  “Court members guarding the Veil.”

  I lifted my brows. “Because they don’t want us in, or they don’t want anyone else out?”

  “Both,” Gunnar said grimly. “They like to keep the outpost soldiers on their toes, and they only want allies coming through the Veil to assist.”

  “Have any Consularis members tried to come through?” Gavin asked.

  “Not that we’re aware of,” Gunnar said.

  “And how do we cross the no-man’s-land?” Gavin asked.

  “I’d suggest distraction and slipping through,” Rachel said, “but we’ll want to see what the field looks like, and where they’re positioned, in the morning.”

  She glanced at Malachi, the question in her eyes obvious: Can you admit I’m right about this? Because we both know I am.

  Malachi just stared at her, and I realized we were going to have to talk about how they would manage being together on this little journey. Because we couldn’t afford distractions.

  “So, we make it into the Beyond,” Liam said, stretching his arm on the back of my chair so his fingers rested on my shoulder, to warm and reassure.

  “Wait,” I said, and looked up at Malachi. “What do you call it? The place we’re going? I’m assuming ‘the Beyond’ is our name.”

  He smiled. “It is called Elysium.”

  “As in the Elysian Fields?” It was a kind of heaven in Greek mythology—and the avenue that ran right down the middle of the Marigny. Of Devil’s Isle.

  “I wouldn’t presume to tell you the origin of human words,” Malachi said, and the smile was knowing.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d wondered how much of his world had bled over into ours over the course of human history. Maybe someone or something had slipped through the Veil, or the knowledge had gone through by some kind of magical osmosis.

  Malachi drew a folded piece of paper from his pocket, spread it on the table. There, he’d drawn a neat map, pale colors washed beneath tidy pen lines.

  “Did you make this?” I asked, leaning over.

  “I did.” His smile was faint, and looked slightly bashful. Not an expression I’d often seen on him.

  “It’s lovely,” I said.

  “Quit appraising the art, Claire.”

  I grinned at Tadji. “I’m head of acquisitions. I’m allowed to look.” I smiled up at Malachi. “When we’re back, if you wanted to sell this, I’d be interested.”

  “So, they make it past the Veil,” Gunnar prompted. “Tell us what we’re going to see in Elysium.”

  “The boundary between the worlds is located in a rural area,” Malachi said, pointing to the line along the bottom of the map. “Rolling hills, some of which is grassland, some forested.” With a fingertip, he traced a line to a dotted amoeba-like shape northeast of the original spot. “It is twenty miles to the city where the Citadel is located.”

  “We walk?” Gavin asked, and Malachi nodded.

  “We will walk. It is very navigable terrain. We should reach it within a day.”

  “It’s green and full of bugs,” Moses said with an unimpressed sniff.

  I looked over at him. “Not a fan?”

  “I prefer the city. Technology and magic. Not bird shit and bug noises.”

  “You do you, Mos.”

  “Damn right, Red.”

  Liam crossed his arms. “What about guards, scouts, police? Surely they aren’t going to let us tramp through their world?”

  “The Beyond is . . . different,” Malachi decided. “Movement among districts is not regulated. The world is peaceful, violence rare.”

  Liam lifted his brows. “But for the Court of Dawn?”

  “The rebellion was put down,” Malachi said, and there was no bravado in it. “And those who continued their rebellion came here. We may be questioned, but I will be with you.”

  “Commander of forces.”

  Malachi shifted his gaze to Rachel. “Yes.”

  “They’ll recognize your position, even after the time that’s passed?”

  “They will have been made aware that Consularis Paras were conscripted, that we didn’t leave or fight voluntarily.”

 
“And yet you made no move to return, even after the Veil was opened again.” Rachel’s tone was cold.

  “I have unfinished business,” Malachi said.

  “And would that not affect your relationship with the reigning Consularis?”

  “They are called the Precepts,” he said. “There are three. And I have no reason to believe that it would.”

  Chill tone or not, the air was beginning to heat as their stares grew fiercer.

  “When we get into the city,” Liam said, drawing their attention to him. “What happens then? Where do we go? Who do we meet?”

  It took five long seconds before Malachi shifted his gaze from Rachel’s face. “It’s approximately a mile to the city center. That’s where we’ll find the Citadel. We meet with the Precepts and we ask them for the Abethyl.”

  “And if they say no?” Rachel asked.

  Malachi looked at her. “I will convince them. They owe you that much.”

  “So we go in optimistic, but prepared.” Liam looked at each of them. “That work for everyone?”

  Rachel’s jaw worked, as if she were chewing the words she wanted to say. “Yes.”

  “Yes,” Malachi said. But it didn’t sound like he especially agreed with the notion. “The return trip will be very much the same. We cover the same ground.”

  “That sounds simple,” Gavin said.

  “The walk is simple,” Malachi said. “There is nothing simple about the Consularis.” He looked at me and Liam. “As I said, I’m hopeful that meeting you will help them understand the impact of their refusal to act, and that action has become a necessity.”

  Liam nodded. “We understand.”

  “What’s the contingency plan?” Gavin asked, and we all groaned.

  “You’re going to jinx us before we even leave,” Liam said.

  “It’s not a jinx to be prepared.” The words were almost prim. He looked at Gunnar. “They say no, and we can’t build this weapon, and then what?”

  “Tremé” was his simple answer.

  Gavin blew out a breath, shook his head. “But no pressure.”

  “I’d like to offer a prayer,” Burke said. “If that would be all right with you?”

  “We’re not much for church in this assemblage,” Liam said. “But we’ll take all the help we can get.”

  “Then let’s take hands, and bow our heads.”

  We all reached out, took the hands of the people beside us, made a circle of anticipation, fear, anger, hope. Of people sick of war, ready for peace and plenty. Tonight, we were a unit. A group, undivided. Tonight, there was possibility. And we had to hope we’d carry that with us tomorrow.

  “Heavenly Father,” Burke began quietly, an entreaty, and led us through it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  When the prayer was done, I touched Liam’s shoulder. “I’m going to talk to Malachi.”

  Liam’s gaze followed automatically to where the angel stood near the stairs on the other side of the room, looking stern and powerful and trying very hard to ignore Rachel, who was reviewing the map with Burke.

  “About the girl?”

  “About the girl.”

  “You think he’ll discuss it?”

  “I don’t know. But I have to ask. This trip is already fraught with damn peril. We don’t need to add soap-opera flare-ups to the mix.”

  “Be careful,” he said, and squeezed my hand.

  I made my way to Malachi. And stood in front of him for a good three seconds before he lowered his gaze to me.

  “Why don’t we go for a walk?”

  His expression didn’t change. “Why would we go for a walk?”

  “So we can talk.”

  “About what?”

  This was like arguing with a toddler. “About Rachel.”

  Malachi’s jaw tightened, and seeing it was like watching the curtains being drawn across his emotions.

  “We’re going into enemy territory,” I pointed out, “where we’ll have limited resources and no easy way out. I want to know the history, because I don’t want whatever that was flashing back on us.”

  “It wouldn’t flash back.”

  “I know you don’t want to tell me—that you prefer to keep your private life private. I don’t have to tell Gunnar, Liam, or anyone else the details. But we need to know.”

  Malachi didn’t answer. But he walked toward the door, bell ringing as he stepped onto the sidewalk. He didn’t want to talk, but he wanted to talk inside the store even less.

  Tadji reached me, watched Malachi move down the sidewalk. “Where is he going?”

  “Outside. I’m harassing him about his history with Rachel.”

  “Good call. That’s a powder keg.”

  Something crashed behind us in the kitchen, then rolled across the floor.

  “And speaking of which,” she muttered.

  “I’ve got it!” Gavin shouted from the back.

  “He is a bull in a damn china shop,” Tadji said.

  There was more banging, and I shook my head. “Not my drama,” I said, and walked to the door.

  “Gavin, what the hell are you doing?” Liam asked.

  I didn’t wait around for an answer.

  * * *

  • • •

  I found Malachi on the steps of the former Louisiana Supreme Court building, his wings extended. But the look on his face was more sulking teenager than commanding angel.

  I climbed up to meet him, crossed my arms, and stared him down.

  “I bear no animosity toward her,” he said after a very long time.

  “You have feelings for her.”

  “I might have had. If circumstances were different.”

  “If she wasn’t a Containment captain, and you weren’t a Consularis commander?”

  Malachi’s eyes widened. “She told you?”

  “No. I used my impeccable powers of deduction.”

  As if in response to the sarcasm, he closed his wings with a rush of air that blew my hair back.

  “You told me you met while closing the Veil,” I said. “She was special forces.”

  He stared at me, as if determining whether I might simply give up and walk away. Then he relented. “Yes. She was sent to New Orleans when Containment agreed to work with Sensitives to close the Veil the first time. We lived in a camp near the breach, worked day and night to come up with a protocol that might work.”

  “You got to know each other,” I guessed. “And then what happened?”

  “She jailed two Consularis Paras—trusted friends—because they fought against humans.”

  I lifted my brows. “So she did what the law required, and what virtually every Containment officer would have done.”

  “They were Nephilim,” he said. Those were fairylike creatures with delicate wings, like more petite versions of Malachi’s. “They’d been in hiding for months, waiting for an opportunity to go home again. I told her not to turn them in or to send them to Devil’s Isle. She did it anyway.”

  “She disobeyed your orders and betrayed you.”

  His chin lifted. “Yes.”

  “Devil’s advocate?”

  “The devil doesn’t need an advocate.”

  “Be that as it may, we were at war. Rachel had orders.”

  “She disobeyed me.” He looked absolutely baffled that I didn’t understand that was the most important element of the story.

  I arched an eyebrow. “Since when are you the king of humans? Why should she have obeyed you?”

  “Because I asked her to.”

  The bafflement on his face was priceless and telling.

  “At any rate, they were part of a convoy sent from the breach back to New Orleans. But the convoy was sabotaged, and they escaped.”

  “It was sabotaged,” I said dryly. “The
convoy in which your friends were being transported.”

  “The saboteurs were not found.”

  “I bet. Total coincidence that they were your friends, and you’d objected to their imprisonment.”

  “I was right.”

  “You were both right. And unfortunately, that made you both wrong, and put you in conflict with each other.” I watched him for a moment. “Okay. Let’s go back to the store.”

  Malachi’s brow furrowed. “That’s all you want to know?”

  “For now. You’re both alpha, and you both did what you thought was right. I can live with that.” I glanced at him. “Can you live with it?”

  There was a moment of silence. “She was a competent leader.”

  Coming from him, that was as flattering as praise got.

  * * *

  • • •

  I gave Liam the details on the way back to the gas station. Once inside, we began assembling gear for the trip.

  Backpacks were first, already hanging and ready in the shelter-within-a-shelter my father had built in the basement. We packed water-filtration tablets, thin nylon hammocks that could double as shelters, fire starters, pocketknives, a first-aid kit, and some short pikes of cold iron that made handy weapons.

  We carried the backpacks upstairs, testing their weight on the trip to the kitchen, then put them on the counter to add food.

  “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

  “What’s that?” I asked absently, and tapped fingers against my lips as I considered what we’d want to bring on the trip. I’d raided the stash for granola bars, nuts, protein bars, and a few MREs. I considered bringing some precooked rice or quinoa, maybe a bag of dried fruit. How did one pack for a trip into a magical land? Because I bet we wouldn’t be offered Turkish delight.

  “I want to talk about us.”

  “What about us?” No, it was probably better to travel light, so we could be quick when necessary. The nuts and protein bars would provide calories, and maybe we could supplement by foraging, or finding food in Elysium City.

  “Claire.”

  “What?” I looked back at Liam, found him staring at me. And I couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes.