by Addison Fox
She struggled to sit up, but gave up when Kane’s hands pressed her back against the bed. “He’s right, Kane. I have to do this myself. The souls are inside of me. I have to deliver them to Hades.”
“Then I’ll go with you. You need a companion and I want answers. Two birds and all that shit.”
Four protests went up around him, hers louder than any of the others.
“Are you crazy? I won’t let you do that. You couldn’t speak an hour ago—that fight you had with the Destroyer weakened you so badly. You’re not going with me.”
“I’m fine. The poultice worked and you’re not going alone.”
Drake. Sweet Drake stepped forward. “Kane. We can’t support you on this. She lied to you and, as far as any of us can tell, hasn’t come clean about anything. And now this news between her and Callie. She’s a threat. You can’t go with her.”
Hot waves of shame prickled underneath her skin, crawling up her neck and onto her face.
Ilsa supposed she earned that—deserved it, even. But to hear it out loud hurt. Especially when the comment came from the kindest of these Warriors. Drake sat at the top of her list for warmth and a caring nature that belied his physical size and strength.
Even he thought the worst of her.
Kane’s voice was firm. “I’m going with her.”
Smug satisfaction filled his voice as Quinn pointed out the obvious from the far side of the room. “And just how do you think you’re going to get there, Monte? You’re too weak to port and it looks like Ilsa is, too.”
Kane shifted, lifting himself off the bed where he’d sat next to her. Ilsa watched as he stalked across the room to stand toe-to-toe with the Taurus.
Quinn’s grin faded at the direct challenge. His powerful shoulders hunched forward in battle stance as he prepared himself for Kane’s advance.
Instead of fists, Kane’s voice resonated through the room with its strong, deep pitch. “Quinn. I don’t ask you for much. I never even wanted assistance as I dealt with this”—he waved a hand at his body—“annual shit I deal with. But I’m asking you now. I’m asking you to port Ilsa and me to the Underworld so she can deliver those souls to Hades. She needs to be rid of them. I want to see that she delivers them safely, with no further harm to herself.”
Ilsa watched the dynamics playing out before her. What had begun as hurt feelings and wounded pride at Drake’s lack of faith in her had morphed into something entirely different.
As she watched Kane and his Warrior brothers, she noticed something that went far deeper than a Warrior’s pride.
She saw caring and support and family. The hard decisions and the difficulties that came when the ones you cared for did something you didn’t agree with.
“Kane—” Grey broke off, as Quinn held out a hand.
“Fine. I’ll take you to Avernus and no farther. After that, you’re on your own.”
Ilsa felt her own protest rise up, but Kane beat her to the punch. “Avernus is still a long hike to Hades’s chambers, Quinn. A long way to the River Styx. She’s in bad shape.”
Quinn’s voice was implacable. “That’s as far as I go.”
Kane held out a hand, but Quinn wrapped him in a large bear hug. Despite the show of affection, Kane’s disappointment was unmistakable. “You mean that’s as much as you’ll give.”
Ilsa swung her legs over the bed and struggled to her feet. How could he have missed this before?
How could all of them have been so blind? And how could she be so careless? And why was he worrying about her at all when he should be furious with her?
She’d betrayed him. Terribly.
But she needed him. Terribly.
“Why’d you do it? The blood?”
Those large eyes of hers met his gaze, the slight whisper of hope dying at his question. “I didn’t know you then.”
“That certainly didn’t keep you from sleeping with me.”
Her gaze dropped away as her words sharpened with a distinct edge. “Don’t use sexual intimacy as an excuse. It wasn’t like you were looking for a long-term commitment. You took what was offered.” A small, triumphant smile edged the corners of her mouth. “Took it willingly, as I recall.”
“We are going to talk about this.”
“The answer isn’t going to change, Kane.” A small sigh escaped her lips. “All I can do is help you get it back. Now, if we’re done with this, I need to leave.”
“Let’s go find Quinn, then.”
“I can do this. Alone.”
Regardless of his best efforts to stay angry, he’d already made his decision. He was going with her to the Underworld. They could worry about retrieving his blood once they got back.
“What’s the longest you’ve held a soul inside of you?”
Busying herself with straightening the covers on the guest bed, Ilsa didn’t meet his gaze. “An hour. Maybe a little more.”
“And that’s one soul? What about two?”
“I very rarely carry more than one soul.”
Well, shit. Didn’t that just make him feel all warm and fuzzy like Christmas morning. “So why do you have both now?”
“I didn’t want to waste the time it took to get Robert to Hades and then go after the second. Besides, if I’d waited, you’d have gotten to Alex first. If he’d laid there dead for too long, his soul might have seeped away, allowing him to roam the earth as a ghost. It’s hard to capture them once they reach that state.”
So this was about him? It was his fault? Like hell it was.
“So you put yourself at risk like this?”
“I needed to get to both of them last night. They were on Hades’s list and I had to get them before they did any further damage. I did my duty and I’d do it again if I had to.”
“And look where it’s gotten you. You can barely stand up.”
Those blue eyes, currently dulled with pain, lasered in on him. “You’ve got some nerve, bitching at me for overdoing it. Last time I checked, you had something far worse living inside of you, waiting to fuck you over six ways to Sunday.”
Kane gritted his teeth—the truth of her words was not lost on him. With an odd moment of clarity, he thought of his Leo brother Brody, who’d fallen in love with a mortal woman. Although Themis had granted Ava immortality after the battle for the Summoning Stones due to her ability to use the stones for the greatest good, their relationship had developed when Ava was a mortal.
At the time, Brody had been upset about it, concerned about living the majority of his days without her.
While Kane understood that—understood the bone-deep panic at the idea the one you loved would be taken from you—he couldn’t help but envy the Leo his relationship with a levelheaded woman.
“I can handle it, Ilsa.”
“Kane, you don’t need to go with me. I need Quinn for the port and that’s all. I’ll be fine after that.”
“For the last time, you’re not going alone. And with Quinn dropping you off at Avernus, fucking miles away from Hades, you’ve got a long trip. The payment to Charon to cross the first river is only the beginning. I don’t want you dealing with the little shit on your own.”
“He’s not that bad.”
Kane thought of Charon, the little demon they’d face first. Once they paid him the toll, he’d ferry them across the River Acheron, drawing them deeper into the Underworld. Throughout the journey, souls of the not-quite-damned were allowed to stand on the banks of the river, screaming their judgments.
Kane had seen it only once, shortly after his agreement with Themis to become a Warrior. As part of their training, each Warrior was instructed on the various leaders of the Pantheon. While Themis diligently avoided Zeus and Hera, she’d ensured her Warriors spent time with all the remaining Olympians. The gods were willing teachers and Hades was one of the best. Although Hades had been a warm and open instructor, Kane had needed only one lesson on the Underworld to know he had no interest in returning.
He’d not known of Il
sa then. Or that Hades had someone in his service, doing his bidding to fetch souls from above and take them directly to his throne for punishment.
“After Charon ferries us down the river, what’s next?”
“I usually skip that part and port directly to the River Styx. I’m involved when a soul is being delivered at the request of Hades instead of through natural death. The soul is placed in a locked boat decorated with skulls. I lock them in and send them on their way across the river, the final leg of their journey until they meet Hades and their final punishment.”
The poison that lived inside of him chose that moment to jab a new round of spikes underneath his skull. The hungry taskmaster had been surprisingly calm for the past hour, but the renewed pain indicated it had simply been lying in wait.
Kane ignored the pain and focused on the fact he had thirteen more days until Antares was at its zenith.
Thirteen.
More.
Days.
On a muttered expletive, he bore down on the pain and refocused on Ilsa. “This is bullshit. I’m going to convince Quinn to take us right there.”
“He won’t do it, Kane. Not if you come along.”
As Kane looked at her, the poison screaming in his head and her words ringing in his ears, he knew she spoke the truth.
Damn, why did it have to be the fucking Taurus who was his only choice? Drake and Grey had made it more than clear they agreed with Quinn on this and Kane knew he didn’t have enough time to contact one of his other Warrior brothers for help.
Shit.
The answer was simple. Unacceptable, but simple.
If he stayed behind, he could convince Quinn to do what needed to be done. Could convince him to take Ilsa directly to Hades.
Quinn would take them only to the entrance of the Underworld if he went along.
A sane man would have allowed her to do her job. Would have trusted she could manage her way to Hades’s throne room without further assistance.
But he’d be damned if he let her go without his protection.
Chapter Thirteen
Avernus, the entrance to the Underworld, was buried in the countryside of Campania, not far from Naples, Italy. A crater, formed as the earth’s crust cooled, Avernus had been the doorway to the Underworld since the dawn of existence. The far side of the crater held the entryway and it was near there that Quinn landed them out of the port.
The familiar scenery came back to him as Kane looked around. So like his first visit almost ten thousand years ago. The mid-May sun rode high in the sky and a bright forest rimmed the edge of the two-mile-wide crater, a portion of which had filled in to form a lake. Birds flew overhead, but no sound reached his ears.
Nothing, not even the bright blue of the sky, could diminish the cold that crept into his veins.
“This is the place of death. You can feel it. Nothing can penetrate the dark, stale stench death leaves behind.” The words fell from Quinn’s lips as he gave the spot his own look around, his hands on his hips. “I still think this is a seriously bad idea, Monte.”
Kane glanced over at one of his oldest friends and felt the steady anger he’d attempted to squelch at the house leaping up to swat at him. “If you cared that much, you’d take us all the way to Hades, so you’ve lost the right to comment on the matter.”
Never one to take a slap, verbal or otherwise, lying down, Quinn swatted back with his own retort. “You put yourself in unnecessary danger. For her.” Quinn shot a glance at Ilsa, who had moved a few yards away, apparently to give them some privacy. “I can’t be party to that.”
Maybe it was the poison. Maybe it was the residual anger he felt at the lack of support. Maybe it was just the place itself. Regardless of the reason, Kane lashed back. “No, you can be party to it, but your stubborn Taurus pride prevents you. Why don’t you just go on home? We’re fine.”
“What’s wrong with you? You were always the first to fight with us. The first to stand up, Monte.”
“And now that I choose something you don’t, you remove your support. Turn the mirror on yourself, Quinn. This isn’t about me.”
The bull backed away, his features harsh and craggy in the bright light of the sun.
Without another word, he disappeared into the ether.
Ilsa returned to his side, her steps slow, but steady. “I’m so sorry, Kane. I know that was hard for you. This won’t take long. I’ll get these souls to Hades and port us back to New York. And then we can concentrate on getting you well.”
Her cheerful tone did nothing to lighten his mood, nor could it penetrate the gloom that descended over a person in this place.
Maybe it was the dismal atmosphere or the sheer truth of their situation. Despite coming clean about some things— namely the job she fulfilled for Hades—Kane realized he still knew practically nothing about Ilsa.
He didn’t know why she’d drugged him six months ago. He understood how she did it and now he even knew about the blood vial, but he still had no idea why she’d targeted him in the first place.
He’d ignored that simple fact in the rush of seeing her again, but why had she left?
And why wasn’t he busy getting the answers he’d sought for the past six months?
Kane looked at Ilsa, trying to force some much-needed objectivity into the situation. Nothing but bright, guileless eyes stared back at him.
Voice low, he kept his gaze level with hers, seeking answers from her body language. “Why did you burn me six months ago? Who put you up to it?”
While he’d originally believed himself burned by all of MI6, nothing had changed with his freelance employer. They continued to call him for jobs and it was as if Ilsa had fallen off the radar.
Even St. Giles had left the subject alone. He’d simply given him other assignments as they’d come up. It was as if Ilsa was a ghost who’d flitted in and flitted out, never to be seen again.
“Burn?” The bright gaze was quickly replaced with the wary fear of the hunted. “Why did I drug you and leave you, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“I know you won’t believe me, but there are no answers for that.”
“There are always answers.”
“Please let me do this. Let me deliver the souls. Can you give me that?”
He wanted to say no. Wanted instead to rail and holler until she told him why she’d left. But the slim set of her slumped shoulders and the bleak wintery gaze that dulled the bright blue of her eyes suggested defeat.
What piece of the puzzle was he missing? What elusive piece of knowledge would solve the mystery? And why, despite the fact he’d still not figured it out, was he unwilling to leave her alone?
Taking Ilsa’s hand, Kane turned them in the direction of the entrance. Hidden from human eyes, the portal was accessed by stepping onto what looked like an immovable boulder.
Although few humans ever tread there—the depressing and ominous atmosphere usually a large enough deterrent to keep a person out—human behavior wasn’t absolute.
As his gaze traveled the vast edge of the crater, Kane had to acknowledge the gods had hidden their lower realm well.
Ilsa stepped upon the boulder first, shifting her weight to make room for him next to her.
As the boulder descended into the earth below, Kane had the fleeting concern that he might never see blue sky again.
Ilsa stepped off the boulder and felt Kane fall in behind her. They moved through a long, narrow passage, the walls damp with moisture.
She placed her feet carefully as she passed through the small enclosure, the dirt floor full of rocks and sediment. The limited light and the rocky pathway made it necessary to proceed with caution in the best of situations, but it was her increasingly exhausting internal battle and Kane’s weakened state that demanded a slow, steady pace.
Ilsa knew most people associated the Underworld with heat and fire because they didn’t truly understand it. Although the five rivers that converged down there were filled with boiling wate
r, making it very humid, the heat wasn’t some sort of endless fire that waited to gobble up souls.
Hades’s realm was a plane of existence, just as Poseidon ruled the sea and Zeus the heavens.
It was earth and her inhabitants they all fought over.
Although there were those who wanted to compare Hades to the devil, or even to death, he was truly neither. He simply ruled over the Underworld, ensuring order and process met all upon the start of their postlife existence.
Over the years, Ilsa had come to realize that Hades was a benevolent god. He wasn’t evil, nor was he an unjust punisher. He simply had the job very few others wanted to touch. She’d often thought of him as one of the kindest, warmest members of the Pantheon. His love for his wife, Persephone, shined from him in great, harmonious waves and he genuinely grieved over those he was called to punish.
She had watched tears rim his eyelids whenever she delivered what Hades called an unredeemable. A soul who had no goodness or light and who was forced into the darkest realms of the Underworld to serve out the remainder of his or her days.
At those moments, when Hades’s grief was so expansive, Ilsa always wondered what he’d seen in her when he’d offered to help her and give her a place in the world. She wasn’t sure if he knew about the deep desire for vengeance against Themis and his brother Zeus, which beat in her chest with the sound of war drums.
“Can you see up there?”
Kane’s question pulled Ilsa from her thoughts. “It shouldn’t be too much farther and the path will open so we can walk together.” In fact, she could see the opening to the path about one hundred feet in front of them.
Once on that path, they’d walk for another mile or so, before meeting Charon at the River Acheron. Ilsa hadn’t seen the ferryboat master in quite a while, as her usual delivery method brought her far closer to the end of the journey.
Would he remember her? And how would he handle the fact she brought a companion with her?
Charon had always been a wee bit touchy, his devotion to his job legendary. It was that very devotion that concerned her.