Unholy moley. I can see where this is going, and it’s not a happy place.
“I don’t have blue irises. You’re seeing things.” Not my best lie.
“Did you come here with Lincoln? You two disappeared at the party after your little Cunnus girl thing.” Her tiny eyes thin to slits. “I need to talk to the High Prince. Now.” She pokes my rib cage with her pointer finger. “I’ll have you know, he and I are basically almost-engaged.”
I take a deep breath. “Sure you are.” I want to kick her. So. Hard. “Focus, Adair. Remember the nasty worm demon?”
“Lincoln!” She yanks against me with all her strength.
I speak in the loudest whisper I can manage. “Adair, stay still.”
She drags us both a few feet across the stadium floor. “I know what you’re trying to do.” Panic flickers in her eyes. “You’re pretending to be the Scala Heir, aren’t you?” She shoots a desperate look at Lincoln. “Well, you’re not. I’m the Scala Heir. I’M THE SCALA HEEEEEEIR!”
Crap.
The Tinea stops. Angling its lumpy head, it sniffs through two jagged nose-holes. “Scala Heir.”
Oh no, it smells the scent of igni on me, just like Armageddon did.
Lincoln hacks away at the Tinea’s body, but the wounds heal as soon as they’re made. The only way to kill a Tinea is to cut all four wormy limbs at once. Which is why no one’s ever done it.
The demon plunges its arms into the ground, its body quickly burrowing under the soil of the Arena. It leaves behind a narrow hole in the stadium floor. I stare at the darkened pit, wishing I could jump in and hide for a little while. Maybe just until Adair’s dead.
Lincoln sprints in our direction. “Don’t move!”
“See, I was right. My Prince will save me.” Adair’s face twists into a haughty smile. “I’m thrax, and thrax know demons. That worm-thing was nothing to worry about.”
Ugh, I can’t believe she’s this thick. Leaning my weight on my right hip, I watch her hop about and call for her Prince. Oh yeah, I believe.
“The demon will resurface any second.” I grip her arm tighter. “Don’t move or it will show up right by your–”
“Lincoln! I knew you’d come for me.” She jumps up and down. Again.
I sigh. “Adair, you need to work on your listening skills.”
Lincoln stands beside the false Scala Heir. I release her arm; she cuddles into his chest. “Oh, my Prince! I was so frightened.”
Rage boils through me. Hands off, he’s mine.
Lincoln pats her back. “Everything will be fine, Adair.” His gaze shifts to me. “Myla, you said you’d keep her still.”
Sweet Satan! No way are my Adair management skills getting critiqued here. I set my fists on my hips. “I tried. She’s kind-of a bitch.”
Laughter dances in Lincoln’s eyes.
Adair rounds on me. At least she’s detached her cheek from his collarbone. “No one speaks to the Scala Heir in that manner!”
That did it. I raise my hand to shoulder height, ready to bring down a whole lotta igni pain on her blonde head.
Before I can get too far, the Tinea starts to resurface. Near our feet, the soil of the Arena floor trembles and rises. Rotor-like hands break through the ground. A lumpy head and wormy body follow. The leathery skin shimmers with mucus.
Adair screams her head off.
The quills on the Tinea vibrate, then fall still. The creature sniffs through its thin nose-holes. My mind snaps into battle mode. Anger at Adair, worry for Walker, and fear about the future…It all disappears as my mind starts calculating possible attack vectors and defense moves. The dance of battle begins.
The Tinea’s hole of a mouth stretches wide. Its lumpy head turns in my direction. “Scala Heir.”
My body goes into battle stance, tail arched over my shoulder. Lincoln and I are on the same side of the Tinea. Not the best way to attack this thing.
“No, no, no!” Adair leaps between me and the demon. “I’m the Scala Heir.”
Lincoln grabs her arm, trying to pull her out of the way. She won’t budge.
The Tinea’s wormy arms extend toward Adair, ready to stab through her belly, all in an attempt to get at me. My mind clicks through different moves and counter-moves.
Yeah, that’ll do it.
Crouching to the ground, I swing out my leg, slamming my shin behind Adair’s feet. The force of my kick takes her out at the ankles. Adair stumbles backwards, falling onto the dirt floor with a thump. The Tinea’s arms whiz harmlessly above our heads.
Yes, that saved her life.
And yes, I totally enjoyed kicking her.
Adair’s mismatched eyes look wide and glossy with fear. “That demon could have killed me.” For once, she sits quietly and keeps her yap shut.
Lincoln and I stand side by side, the Tinea paused before us. The creature angles its head-lump toward me. “Scala Heir.” It starts to burrow underground. Based on the angle, it’ll resurface right behind Lincoln. Not good.
I stare at the burrowing demon and scratch my chin. The thing’s pretty harmless in digging mode and there’s no way to cut its limbs underground. We’ve got a little breather. “Lincoln, remember when I said I owed you one?”
“Clearly.” Lincoln reignites his baculum. “I have big plans for how you’ll pay me back.” Before us, the Tinea has almost disappeared into the soil.
Shifting my hips, I spear it through the head with my tail. Spinning about, I slingshot the demon across the Arena floor. It slams into the opposite wall with a gooey thwack. “The Tinea was digging to resurface behind you. Now we’re even.”
Lincoln half-smiles. “Thanks, I think.”
Across the Arena floor, the Tinea regains its footing and burrows into the soil.
Lincoln’s eyes open extra-wide. “I’ve got an idea.” He splits the baculum so his broadsword becomes two fiery short-swords. Standing at alert, he waits for the demon to resurface. “Get behind me.”
Okay, I can see where he’s going. It’s easiest to finish the Tinea if we attack from opposite sides, but if we walk into position, the demon will know exactly where we are. We need the element of surprise.
I stand behind Lincoln, my body on high alert. Adair sits nearby, watching us with her jaw hanging open. My mind clicks back into battle mode, but this time with a difference. Now I calculate more than my own moves and counter-moves. I smile. Fighting as a team feels beyond awesome.
The ground before Lincoln rises. Rotor-like hands break through the surface.
My body tenses, a coiled spring ready to break free. Shifting my weight to the balls of my feet, I speak in a whisper. “Now?”
Lincoln’s voice is calm and low. “Not yet.”
The Tinea’s greasy head-lump breaks through the Arena floor. I want to move so badly; it takes all my focus to wait. Next, the demon’s wormy torso follows out of the hole. I shake out my fingertips, trying to release some of the tension. Finally, ropy legs pop out of the dirt and lock onto the ground.
“Now, Myla!” Lincoln bends over at the waist. Setting my foot onto his back, I launch myself into the air, somersault-twist over the Tinea’s head, and land behind the demon in a crouch. Lincoln raises his short-swords high.
That’s my cue.
As Lincoln brings his blades down through the demon’s arms, I swipe my tail through the monster’s legs. The creature pauses, shivers, then disintegrates into a puddle of brownish goop.
Sweet. Taking down a Tinea’s one for the record books.
Adair sits nearby, her face colorless. “You killed it. Together.”
Lincoln and I bump fists. “That’s right.” I wiggle my bottom. “We are a lean, mean demon killing machine.”
Lincoln laughs; Adair doesn’t. Surprisingly, she’s acting more shocked than arrogant, which is a nice change of pace. Gripping her elbows, she speaks through chattering teeth. “How’d you know how to fight like that?”
Wow. A question that doesn’t involve Scala Heir-relate
d whining. Adair needs to almost die more often. I jog in place, cracking my neck from side to side. “Lincoln broke the baculum in two, so obviously he’s going for the demon’s arms. And if he’s taking out the arms, then I need to get the legs. That’s the only way to kill a Tinea.”
The Prince wraps his hands about my waist. “Nicely done.”
I kiss the tip of his nose. “Back at ya.” Suddenly, I’m very aware that I’m wearing a skin-tight cat-suit and Lincoln looks yummy in his body armor. The air around us pulses with energy. If Adair weren’t staring at me like I was another Tinea, I’d totally kiss Lincoln right now.
The Prince reads my mind. “Later, Myla.”
I purse my lips, half frowning. “Got anything more specific for me on that?”
Lincoln frames my face with his fingertips. “There will be time for us. I swear it.” He’s talking about more than a kiss. Desire blasts through me. Oh, yeah. My eyes flare bright red.
The Prince leans in closer, his mouth outside my ear. “I think that’s a record for fastest time from zero to sparkling.”
My mouth curves into a semi-snarky grin. “You’re such a competitive little creep.” And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Stepping back, I exhale a long breath. We can’t afford to stand around cracking jokes. “I need to find Walker. I’m late to the bunker as it is.”
Lincoln’s brows arch. “I need? Do you think you’re going alone?”
I mock-frown. “I thought that was the plan.” Lincoln’s staying with me? Wow. A bright spot in an otherwise bleak day. My heart lightens.
“When Armageddon invaded Purgatory, the plans changed. I’m not going anywhere until I’m certain you’re safe.”
I kick the ground with my heel. “I’d tell you to join your people, but you won’t listen to me anyway.”
Lincoln shoots me a sly grin. “And secretly, you totally want me around.”
My cheeks turn pink. Am I that obvious? “That too.”
“Knew it.” With a wink in my direction, Lincoln turns to Adair, offering his arm. “Can you walk?”
She keeps her hands to herself, for once. “I’m fine.”
“Very good.” The Prince tilts his head. “I’m afraid you must travel with us until we can get you home.”
“That’s okay.” Adair’s voice is barely above a whisper. I eye her for a long moment, my forehead creased in thought. Our fight with the Tinea demon changed her somehow, but I can’t put my finger on it. I shrug. Whatever it is, she’s certainly less irritating.
“Hello, there!” Walker limps toward us, his arm raised in welcome. I’m happy to see that his skin’s a healthier shade of pale. Around him, the stadium looks pretty much deserted. “I can portal everyone to the bunker now, if you’re ready.”
My gaze shifts between Walker and Lincoln. With my two favorite guys along for the ride? I’m more than ready.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Exiting the portal, I step into the dim light of the bunker’s main chamber. Walker, Adair, and Lincoln follow behind me. The space is huge, square, and made of poured concrete. Industrial lanterns dangle from long ceiling cords, casting halos of light on the floor. Steel shelves line the walls, each one overflowing with supplies. Metal folding chairs lie unopened in stacks. Mom, Tim, Cissy, and Zeke wait along the opposite wall.
I wave to them. “Hey, guys.”
No one speaks. That’s odd. “Don’t all say hello at once.” I grin.
Still no reply. The hairs on my neck stand on end. Alarm rattles through my body. Twisting about, I glance at the communications console. The monitors are still dark. My forehead creases. Everything was supposed to be turned on by now.
I gesture to Cissy and Zeke. “What are you two still doing here?”
No one says a word. Tim and Cissy huddle closer, taking a few steps away from the others. Adair scuttles off to a corner and skulks, sitting with her arms wrapped about her knees. At least she isn’t screaming.
My forehead creases a little more. Why is Cissy anywhere near Tim? This is off, way off. The alarm bells in my body ring louder, setting my teeth on edge.
Walker frowns, pointing his long arm toward Tim. “Why haven’t you transported the young quasis?”
Tim’s black eyes flare red, his mouth twists into an evil grin. “Why? You have to ask why?”
A bolt of chilly fear runs down my spine. I never liked that Tim.
Walker bares his teeth. “Answer my question, TIM-29.”
“Because I know who this one really is.” Tim points his bony finger toward Mom. “You’d never accept being a seamstress, Senator. You’re plotting against the ghoul government, you and that witch you call a daughter. I chose to side against my people once, when I decided to work for you. I won’t make that mistake twice.” He tells a good story, but the tremor in his voice hints at a different tale. For Tim, this is about more than being a patriotic ghoul. He still cares for my Mom and he’s pissed she doesn’t like him-like him. He wants revenge.
Tim spins Cissy around. He holds a short spear against her spine. “This weapon’s covered in poison. Make no mistake; one scratch will kill her. None of you move.”
Oh, damn. And here I thought Tim was so adult for helping out even though Mom loved Xavier. My wrath demon spews fire into my veins. What a whiny little loser! I glare at his bony hand on Cissy’s arm. So help me, if he hurts her, I’ll rip his head off. And that’s just for starters.
Lincoln speaks in a low and deliberate voice. “We came from the Arena. The demons attacked everyone, ghouls included. The Oligarchy barely escaped with their lives. We’re on the same side, friend.”
“The demons attacked, eh?” Tim scowls. “And whose fault is that? You forget, I worked with the Senator for years. She’d never give up on the republic. She’s still scheming and fighting, mark my words.”
Mom’s voice is calm and soothing. “Please understand, Tim. I’m not the same–”
“Spare me.” He turns to Mom, eyes blazing. “I’m not sure how you’ve angered Armageddon, but you’ll pay for it. The Oligarchy are coming.”
A new portal opens; through it steps the Oligarchy in their deep red robes. The Scala lies on a stretcher between them, the old thrax’s eyes closed in deep sleep. The portal disappears.
Bands of anxiety bind my shoulders and neck. The Oligarchy are here? The whole reason for this little bunker excursion was so I could hide from power-freaks like them. Once they know who I am, they’ll try to control me. Rage and frustration careen through my body, tension coils through every muscle. Damn, damn, damn!
I grit my teeth, forcing my breathing to slow. Stay calm, it’s only the Oligarchy. These aren’t the scariest monsters in town, by far. It’s not like Armageddon’s here.
Tim’s sneer melts into a look of awe. “Mighty Oligarchy, I bring you a prisoner to appease our invaders.” He gestures to Mom. “Senator Lewis.” Next, he points directly at me. “And that one may pretend to have special powers. Don’t be fooled.”
The Oligarchy set down the Scala’s stretcher. “Excellent work.” Their heads swivel in unison as they survey the room. “And this place is safe from demons?”
“Yes, it’s surrounded in angelfire.” Tim nods his head so vigorously, I’m shocked he doesn’t get whiplash. “It’s the perfect place to conduct your negotiations.”
The Oligarchy nod. “And you’re certain this plan will work?”
Tim’s huge black eyes beam with pride. “Yes, it’s like I told you. Senator Lewis would never really become a seamstress. She’s been planning to restore the old republic. Believe me, this is why Armageddon invaded. Get rid of the Senator, you’ll get rid of him too.”
I sigh. Tim doesn’t know how Mom changed after she lost Xavier. He can’t imagine Senator Lewis doing anything but fight. My mouth droops into a frown as I stare into the Oligarchy’s open, gullible faces. They’re grasping at any straw rather than face the truth about Armageddon.
The Oligarchy let out a low hiss, the
n speak in unison. “The King of Hell arrives any moment.” Their heads turn in a single motion, scanning the room. “Let us hope that handing over the Senator is enough to appease him.”
My jaw drops. Armageddon invades Purgatory and this is the master plan to drive him out: hand over my mother? Talk about living in a dream world. My insides twist with worry at the thought of Mom in the hands of that fiend. Who am I kidding? Any of us could be handed over to the King of Hell. It’s across-the-boards terrifying.
“You told Armageddon where we’re all hiding?” Mom rolls her eyes. “He’ll come here all right, but not just for us.”
The Oligarchy look around the room, their gaze pausing on the Scala and then Adair. “We see the Scala Heir is here as well.”
Tim rushes to Adair’s side, pulling her up from the floor. “Yes, mighty Oligarchy. She’ll be useful to you. If the Senator isn’t enough, you can negotiate with her as well.”
The Oligarchy’s eyes flare bright. “Yes, most suitable.”
Adair struggles under Tim’s grip. “I’m not the Scala Heir. It was all a fake.” She points directly at me. “She’s the one. She’s the Heir.”
My back teeth lock. Now she decides I’m the Scala Heir.
The Oligarchy let out a gurgle that I’m guessing is their laugh. “You’re whatever Armageddon believes you to be, little girl.”
Adair staggers backwards until her back hits the concrete wall. “But I’m not the Heir, really.” All the color drains from her face.
“It won’t come to that.” The Oligarchy hiss in what I’m guessing is meant to be a comforting tone. “Armageddon will take the Senator and leave.”
My stomach churns with an unpleasant realization. The Oligarchy may be grasping at straws in offering Mom to Armageddon, but they aren’t all that stupid. They brought the Scala in here and are acting nicey-nice with Adair for one reason: they’ll give Armageddon anything he wants in order to save themselves. And the King of Hell wants his son back. No doubt, he wants whoever succeeds the Scala too.
“Don’t worry, Great Scala Heir.” The Oligarchy bow slightly to Adair. “The plan is perfect. Handing over the Senator will work.”
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