The Amber Lee Boxed Set

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The Amber Lee Boxed Set Page 57

by Katerina Martinez


  I hadn’t noticed the backpack over his shoulder until now. “All packed?” I asked.

  Frank nodded. “Only the essentials.”

  “Which includes?”

  “Beeswax, as in none of ya.”

  “Childish.”

  “But effective.”

  When it was ready, I poured two steaming hot measures of coffee into two mugs, dropped two sugar cubes and circled a spoon inside each a few times, and then dribbled a little milk into them before handing one to Frank. He thanked me and we drank in silence for a minute or so. I could tell he was contemplating the same things I was. Would we succeed? Would Collette live or die? Would we even make it out alive?

  I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind, as I often did, and bid them to stay there for the duration of the night. The thoughts were like vultures, ready to peck at my composure as soon as it showed signs of weakening, ready to tear holes in my mental fortitude until there was nothing left but a broken mess.

  Not today.

  Suddenly, footsteps. Aaron. I clocked Frank with a look that would have said cool it if looks could talk, and placed my mug on the kitchen counter before rushing to intercept Aaron on his way out of the bedroom. I had forgotten that he wasn’t wearing any pants. Oh Gods. Why wasn’t he wearing any pants? He was wearing boxers, at least. Phew.

  Frank perked up like a dog at feeding time and glided across the room.

  “Aaron, this is—”

  “Well hello,” Frank said, cutting me off and thrusting his hand toward Aaron. “I’m Frank, which makes you Aaron.”

  Aaron didn’t seem bothered about being half-exposed in front of another man and smiled. “That’s right,” he said, “Frank. I’ve heard of you. Good things, only.”

  “Good, because I’ve heard of you too. Good and bad,” Frank said with a playful wink.

  “Bad? Care to let me know just what’s been said about me?”

  “No,” I said, interrupting. “He won’t. Frank? A word?”

  Frank nodded and Aaron excused himself to go put on some pants.

  It was hard to tell in the dark, but I got the impression that Aaron’s cheeks had begun to rosy up. Was he flattered? Embarrassed? Reaching out with my mind and tasting Aaron’s aura would have been handy right about now, but I had to keep my promise and decided to keep my mind’s eye shut. I hadn’t read Aaron’s aura since he came home and I wasn’t about to start now.

  Aaron disappeared and Frank smiled like a child in a candy store. “God dammit, witch,” he said, “Why couldn’t I land a guy like that?”

  “Maybe because you’re thin and creepy?”

  Frank feigned dismay by pulling his neck back and grimacing. “Oh, I would be hurt if someone else had said that to me—but coming from you it’s pretty hilarious.”

  “Well played.”

  “He’s seriously pretty dreamy, though.”

  We crossed back into the kitchen and resumed sipping our coffees. “He is,” I said, “And he’s all mine.”

  “Yes, all yours. We know. Congratulations. Anyway, when were you going to tell me he was a werewolf?”

  I almost choked on my coffee. I hadn’t said that to anyone, least of all Frank. And with good reason, too! Frank would have wanted to touch and meddle and dissect, to figure out what made Aaron tick, what happened to the world around him when he shapeshifted, or to learn whether there’s truth in the rumor that a werewolf’s tail holds magick power. And all it took was one casual meeting of the two for Frank to figure it out.

  I should have known.

  “Under no circumstances can you repeat what you’ve just said,” I hissed.

  “I’m not going to. I’m just curious as to why you hadn’t told me. You must have known I would learn the truth eventually.”

  “Yes, well, I was hoping to avoid an awkward conversation.”

  “Yes, awkward. I think we’re passed that, now.”

  “Passed that?”

  “Amber,” his look turned grave, “I don’t have to remind you about the danger of—”

  The bedroom door opened and Aaron stepped out, forcing Frank to shut up. Aaron navigated the awkwardness of the kitchen without sensing it—at least, that was my hope—and stood next to me by the counter.

  “Hi,” I said.

  Aaron smiled and wrapped a hand around my waist. “So Frank,” he said, “I assume you’re going to be going with Amber tonight?”

  “Going…?”

  I stared at the ground. “Its okay, Frank. He knows.”

  Frank pursed his lips. “Does he, now?”

  Aaron nodded.

  “Well,” said Frank, finishing his coffee and crossing his long, lanky legs. “I’m sure whatever this crazy witch has said about me is mostly true.”

  “She’s told me some things,” Aaron said. “I don’t understand a lot of them, though not for lack of her trying to explain things to me. I guess I’m just a simple guy.”

  “From what I’ve heard there’s little simple about you. But yes, I will be going with Amber tonight.”

  “To the… Underworld…”

  “That’s where we’re going.”

  “It sounds like a dangerous place,” Aaron said.

  “And it is, if what I’ve learned about it is even half true. Do you know much about Greek mythology?”

  “A little, but not much.”

  “Well, from what I’ve heard the stories are pretty accurate. It’ll be a dark, dank place where the dead go. It’ll be dangerous. Labyrinthine. Treacherous.”

  “So then you’ll keep my girl safe?”

  I looked up at Aaron and he looked back at me. I was starting to learn a lot about his facial expressions, like how his eyebrows would furl when worried, or how his jaw would clench when he was annoyed. They were mild emotions, but he put so much intensity into them. He wasn’t annoyed now, though, or worried. In fact, his face seemed somewhat plain; lips flat, eyes wide. I couldn’t read it.

  “Oh, trust me,” Frank said, “The red witch will have no trouble keeping herself safe. She’s feisty. I, on the other hand, may need some protection.”

  I smiled. I could feel my cheeks flushing. “C’mon,” I said, “You’ve been doing this way longer than I have.”

  “Yes, witch, but you’re different. You think things and they happen. Do you know how long it’s taken me to get good at what I do? Years. You’ve been at it for months and you can already compete for Gold in the Olympics.”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous, and I think that’s our cue to leave.”

  Frank shrugged and stood. Aaron didn’t know what to do with himself, but Frank helped. “I’ll leave you two a moment,” he said, and he grabbed his backpack and made for the front door.

  I looked up at Aaron. My resolve had been rock solid, until now. My hands were starting to shake, pressure was building inside my throat and my eyes were starting to glisten. The vultures could come, for all I cared.

  “Let me help you with your stuff,” Aaron said.

  “Really? You aren’t going to try and convince me to not go?”

  “I don’t want to. You’re a big girl. I have to let you do the things you need to do.”

  I reached for his cheek and stroked it. “Why are you so understanding?”

  “Because you let me leave. And you didn’t know when I would be coming back. I know when you’re coming back. And besides, from what I’ve just heard whatever is waiting for you in the Underworld has the Red Witch to deal with.”

  That made me smile. I turned my face away while my cheeks flushed. “Twelve hours,” I said, looking back at him.

  Meanwhile, Aaron walked over to the coat rack on the back of my closet door and pulled out my leather jacket. I hadn’t needed to wear it in a few weeks, but I figured it would be cold where I was going to go, so I slipped into it. Aaron then helped me sling my backpack over my shoulder and stood before me by the front door.

  “Twelve hours,” he said, pulling me close to him by the waist.


  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  “I’m going to wait for you.”

  Aaron pulled me close to him by my hips, tipped my neck toward his lips, and kissed me. I ran my hands through his hair and joined in, searching for his tongue, savoring him like a piece of chocolate cake. Gods, he was so rich. I could barely contain myself. Our foreheads pressed together when the kiss was over.

  “You better come back to me,” he said.

  I nodded, pecked him on the lips once more and made my exit. Frank was waiting outside in the cold, dead of night with only the crickets for company.

  “I bet that was tough,” he said.

  “It was, but he’ll be okay.”

  “You sure he won’t wet the rug? Rip up your upholstery?”

  I couldn’t take offence to the words that came out of Frank’s mouth. The laugh fell out of my mouth so fast I wouldn’t have caught it even if I wanted to! I was laughing so hard my sides were starting to hurt and the key in my hand had trouble finding the lock it belonged to.

  Seconds later Frank broke out too. It wasn’t like him to laugh like that, certainly not at his own jokes. Frank had a thing about people who enjoy themselves a little too much. But here he was, laugh like a seagull’s caw. It felt good to laugh.

  Despite everything that was going on, we were laughing.

  Chapter Thirteen

  If I thought the forest where Collette had been staying was creepy during the day, at night the place was downright ghastly. Crooked trees which should have been alive and blooming but were instead black and withered were jutting out of the ground, their leafless branches reaching for the sky. The air was cold and chilly, but no wind was blowing. And around our feet, tendrils of mist were writhing around, parting at our approach and quickly joining at our backs as if to trap us in the woods.

  When we reached Collette she was already waiting by the door to her broken cottage, but her visage mirrored that of the dilapidated building at her back. She was sunken, supporting herself against the stone with both hands to keep from falling over. Collette looked about ready to pass out, so I dashed the last couple of yards toward her and grabbed her by the waist.

  “I’ve got you,” I said, and she held onto me.

  “I am sorry,” she said, “I am weak.”

  “It’s alright. Damien, go inside and grab the bag of food I brought for her. We might need it.”

  Damien did as I asked and Frank helped me straighten Collette out.

  “Are you sure you can do this?” I asked, “You look like you need to rest.”

  “I have rested enough,” she said, “And I fear that if I close my eyes, I may never open them again.”

  “Then we have to get this started,” Frank said, “Before it’s too late.”

  Collette was in no position to argue.

  When Damien returned Collette led us away from the cottage, through the woods, and toward a cold, still lake. The lake couldn’t have been that deep, but the ambient darkness made it seem endless. The water was silent, lapping inaudibly at the rocks by its bank while a mantle of mist floated eerily above it.

  “Here?” I asked.

  Collette nodded. “Yes,” she said, “I cannot open a gate for us to enter without a body of water now, not in my condition.”

  “What do you need us to do?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Stand back, and be ready to enter the pond when I say.”

  “Enter?” Frank asked. “In there?”

  I was also worried about the idea of stepping into the lake. Not because it was the middle of the night—I had gone skinny dipping before—but I didn’t think that being soaked through would help us one bit in the Underworld. I shuddered at the thought of how cold it would be in there. But Damien stepped in.

  He placed a hand on my shoulder and uttered a few silent words. In seconds, my body temperature shot up. It was as if I had a fever but I wasn’t shaking or ill. After a few moments I got used to the heat to the point that I didn’t notice it.

  “What did you just do to me?” I asked.

  Damien repeated the process with Frank and then Collette. “It’ll take less time for us to dry off this way.”

  “That’s one way to do it,” Frank said.

  “Thank you, Damien,” Collette said, “Now, midnight approaches and I must concentrate.”

  We stood back as Collette stepped into the pond. Slowly, her form began to sink beneath the surface of the calm waters as snakes of mist circled around her—claiming her. When the water was at her waist she stopped and raised her hands a few inches off the surface. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but a cold wind was starting to blow in from behind us.

  At least, that’s what it felt like for a second.

  A second later, it seemed as though all of the ambient heat from around us was being sucked towards her. It wasn’t the wind that was moving; it was the warmth, the life. And with each passing second I felt my breath being sucked right from out of my lungs. Frank and Damien were also having trouble breathing, and we looked at each other with alarm, wondering when it would end.

  Only that it didn’t.

  The suction continued, and as I watched the thin layer of mist above the lake I saw it too get sucked into the calm waters of the murky lake. The surface was shaking now, tiny ripples forming directly beneath Collette’s palms and extending toward the shore. And as the ripples touched dry land, I noted that the water was blacker than even the night. No stars were reflecting upon its surface. No faces. No ambient light could pierce the dark.

  Then Collette plunged her palms into the water and the suction stopped. The lake fell still again. Stiller, even, than before. And colder, too. I just knew it would be cold. This would go down in the history books as the coldest lake I had ever stepped into. And when Collette glanced over her shoulder and nodded for us to approach my inner—warmer—self screamed in protest.

  But I advanced, fearless, into the lake and Frank and Damien followed.

  Together we stood, waist deep in black water, the warmth in our bodies slowly draining away, drip by drip, stolen by the necromantic aura that the lake itself was giving off. Even Damien’s magick wasn’t strong enough to keep the cold at bay. Not so long as we were standing in the water.

  “And n-now?” I asked.

  “Now,” said Collette, who was looking altogether healthier already, “We dive.”

  And she dove.

  The water didn’t move. Collette disappeared beneath its surface, but the water remained entirely still. Damien immediately dove in after her, and I followed. The water was dark and impossible to see through. Black as night. Blacker still! But it was water, and moving through it wasn’t difficult. Only, I had no idea where I was going or for how long I needed to go!

  I brushed up against someone—Damien, maybe—and searched for his fingers to wrap them around mine. He pulled, and I followed. But then someone tugged on my leg and released me a moment later. I thought it was Frank, but I couldn’t see anything! My heart was pounding, now, hammering against my head so hard that not even the muffled underwater sounds were audible. But at least Damien had me and I was following him deeper into the black.

  I felt something with my free hand. A torso, I thought. Or a backpack. The person squirmed around and grabbed me by the arm and pulled, but I was already being pulled in the other direction. Suddenly, something didn’t feel right. The hand I had been holding until now clamped tighter against my wrist.

  Then there was a flash of light, bright enough to pierce the dark, and I saw Damien on one side of me, and something else on the other. Something old and bony and altogether not right grinned at me from a lipless mouth filled with cracked yellow teeth. I screamed, and bubbles flew from out of my mouth.

  Damien pulled with one hand and pushed his light into the corpse’s face. The creature let go and receded into the dark, but I was already choking. Damien swam as hard as he could, guided by the light emanating from his right hand, but all around us th
ings were trying to grab hold of whatever they could.

  They tugged on my jacket, my backpack, and my feet. I didn’t know how much longer I could hold on. My heart, still pounding against my temples, was growing weaker and I saw Damien’s light began to dim, and dim, and dim. I was going to die. We weren’t five minutes in to the Underworld and I was going to drown!

  But I couldn’t drown. Not here and not now. I had to fight!

  I tugged on Damien’s arm and he pulled me up, the two of us beating and kicking with our legs and free hands until we broke through the surface! I choked in a breath of stale air and coughed out the black liquid that had been pooling inside my mouth and lungs, coughing and gagging and hacking, but I was alive and for the most part safe.

  “Frank!” I said, and my voice echoed back to me. Were we in a cave?

  “Here,” said Frank. He wasn’t far. In fact, he was climbing ashore.

  “Are you okay?” Damien asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said, but my heart hadn’t calmed down. “Thank you.”

  Damien helped me toward the shore, which wasn’t made of sand but, rather, rock, and I climbed out of the black pool which was now behind me. I took the backpack off and dropped onto a flat rock, breathing through the shock of what had just happened.

  “Is everyone okay?” Collette asked.

  “Yeah. Fuck. What was all that?” I asked.

  Collette stood. Her body was surrounded in a halo of steam, rising from every inch of her body. And despite the darkness I was distinctly aware that her posture seemed firmer, taller, and stronger. I couldn’t see her face clearly, but I was sure that the bags under her eyes were gone and that her skin had returned to its natural, beautiful shape.

  She had said that the Underworld would replenish her strength and I knew, now, that she had meant what she said.

  “Ze Underworld has its guardians,” Collette said. “Shades who cannot find rest, who submit their will to the power of ze Underworld in exchange for immortality.”

  “Immortality?” Frank asked. “They’re already dead.”

  “Yes, but death is only a new beginning.”

  Damien stood upright and scanned the cavern. None of us could see the ceiling, but we were sure we were underground someplace. I stared at Damien from my rock and wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten to me in time. I tried to block the image of the person—thing—that had grabbed me, but I couldn’t shut it out. I guess, really, I didn’t want to. This was the Underworld, and things were undoubtedly about to get a whole lot stranger than that. But, at least, we had made it through the gate.

 

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