And although I want to keep checking mirrors, I simply can’t let that slide. I turn to face Ethan. “Forget it. You won’t receive a single thrax solider from any house. That’s what my Lincoln wanted.” My voice cracks a little when I say that last bit, but just picturing my lost love is making me weepy. I’d say it’s pregnancy hormones, but I’d be losing it even without that.
Plus, there’s more to this whole scene than missing my guy. The Earls just saw their King kowtow to some loser who looks like he belongs on the cover of Freckle-Faced Mean Kid Grows Up magazine.
Not on my watch.
Ethan gives me what can only be called an indulgent smile. Creep. “I realize that learning new things can be overwhelming, especially for someone in your condition…” He goes on to say more incredibly insulting junk, but I don’t care.
Every mirror now displays an image of Lincoln. My Lincoln. My attention is entirely focused on the walls. Once again, no one else seems to be able to see this vision of my true husband.
Last time, I saw Lincoln pounding on the mirror like he was trapped inside another dimension. Now, I realize that wasn’t the case. The mirror is actually acting like a window to where Lincoln is being held. He must have been pounding on the walls before. This time, I see my husband is imprisoned inside a large white room. People in hazmat suits are strapping him to a table while he struggles and screams.
I lose my fucking mind.
“You bastard!” I leap forward, knock Ethan out of his chair, and pin him to the ground. My tail does the same move it did with Evil Lincoln and points right at Ethan’s jugular.
“What is your problem?” cries Ethan. “Have you lost your mind?” His features tighten with genuine fear.
Even through my haze of rage, I know Ethan’s reaction means two things. One, Ethan can’t see my Lincoln in the mirrors; otherwise he’d know why my mind is toast. I’ve no doubt Ethan is behind my Lincoln’s disappearance. However, my seeing in mirrors must be something he didn’t expect. Second, Ethan is terrified of me.
As he should be.
“Where is my husband? Tell me now, or I use your neck as a kabob.”
A calm kind of sneaky washes over Ethan’s face. “Why, your Lincoln is right here beside you, Myla. Don’t you see?”
Voices echo behind me. Some small corner of my brain recognizes that Cissy has finally entered the room. I’m still too stuck on getting information out of Ethan to care, though.
“Start talking, Eth.”
Evil Lincoln kneels at my side. He has the good sense not to touch me this time around. “Myla, we’ve talked about these episodes of yours. They’re getting worse and they risk the baby. Don’t make things harder on yourself. Just go back to your chambers like a good girl, and everything will be fine.”
I keep my gaze locked on Ethan and his very puncture-friendly neck. If Evil Lincoln thinks that threatening me with house arrest will stop me, he’s way wrong. Those words only validate the fact that I have one shot at getting information from Ethan.
That would be now.
I’m taking it.
The arrowhead end of my tail makes a slow journey along Ethan’s jugular. “You better get chatty soon, Eth.”
The Razor Guards all reach into their jackets once again. Moving in unison, they pull out small guns. The Earls gasp and leap from their chairs.
Glad I have some kind of value here.
“Stand down,” orders Ethan. The Razor Guards replace the firearms into their long jackets. His gaze locks with mine. “What do you want?”
“Information.” My mind races through everything I saw through the mirrors. Those images—along with the toys Ethan has been so proudly displaying—combine to give me an idea. “You develop machinery on Earth.” My gaze flickers from the toy tanks to Evil Lincoln’s now not-so-droopy eye. An idea appears. “Tell me. Do you do create things that change people as well?”
“My Earthly business is clean.” Ethan’s pupils widen. “I don’t run any illegal labs.”
“Interesting. I didn’t say you did.”
For the record, there’s nothing more damning than denying you engaged in a crime that no one’s accusing you of. Ethan is definitely experimenting with people on Earth. Maybe that’s how he created Evil Lincoln in the first place.
The pieces start to fit together. The illegal labs…new magic combining with technology…and my Lincoln being strapped to a table for who knows what. Every nerve ending in my body goes on alert.
I know exactly why Ethan has my husband. Hunter Enterprises is doing some illegal stuff to thrax in these labs. My Lincoln is the latest test subject.
I grip Ethan’s chin. “You said before that you mixed magic with technology. What kind of magic are you using?”
Ethan’s face becomes the image of adult menace speckled with childish freckles. “Something of my own creation.”
I glare at him for all I’m worth. “Black magic isn’t anything new. And we both know how it’s powered.” When I next speak, the words feel torn from the bottom of my soul. “You must drain angelic souls to get it to work. That’s why you have those labs.” My voice cracks. “It’s why you took my Lincoln.”
Ethan has the nerve to roll his eyes. “You’re letting your imagination run wild. How would someone like me master black magic enough to drain someone as powerful as your husband?”
Evil Lincoln raises his hand. “And I’m right here, sweetness. Don’t you see me?”
“Talk,” I snarl at Ethan. “How did you get this magic? Tell me!”
The Razor Guards had been hanging back before. Now, they start to close in. They even pull out their guns.
All my Earls go into action. Moving as a single unit, they pull out their weapons, surrounding me and Ethan in a circle. Within seconds, the Earls create a human shield between the Razor Guards and yours truly.
A bubble of warmth moves across my chest. Awwww.
It’s nice to see the Earls have some sense of preservation for my well-being. I’m debating the best ways to make Ethan suffer when I realize there’s a female presence beside me.
It’s Cissy. She must have some in with the guards. I didn’t notice her in all the excitement.
“Myla, you don’t want to do this,” she says gently. “Let’s go for a walk.”
From the corner of my eye, I scan Cissy’s familiar outline—she’s tall and willowy with blonde curls that hang to her shoulders. Today she’s wearing the purple Senatorial robes of her office.
“Listen to your friend,” stammers Ethan. “Leave.”
“Please, Myla.” Cissy tugs on my shoulder. “We have to go.”
Now, I have no idea where Cissy wants to take me, but I do know one thing. I just got some decent intel. Chances are, my Lincoln is being held in a Hunter Enterprises lab somewhere on Earth. At this point, my chances of getting even more useful information out of Ethan are slim at best. Plus, the longer I straddle Ethan with my tail at his throat, the more I validate the lies about my being hormone-crazy.
I stand up, reform my garment into a robe, and address the room. “Thank you for protecting me, my Earls.” I gesture regally to Ethan, who’s still sitting on the floor and rubbing his neck. “I must admit, I did lose my temper on old Eth here.”
Ethan looks up at me. His eyes positively blaze with hatred. “You should apologize and use my correct title.”
Yeah, that is so not happening.
I ignore Ethan and keep my focus on the Earls. “Please know that my fury came in part due to my genuine concern for your safety. Mark my words: going to the Earth’s surface is a dangerous idea. No matter what technology has been developed, there is no protection from demons that’s superior to our defenses in Antrum. Lincoln and I have always been clear on this point.”
Evil Lincoln gestures toward the door. “Why don’t you take a break, babe? Let the real leaders handle this.”
I turn to him. “I am a real leader and a powerful one, too. Consider yourself lucky that I’m not za
pping you off to Hell this second.”
The Earls gasp, and I realize that the longer I stay in this room, the more I put my plans in danger. If they think I’m crazy, they might just go along with Lincoln and his house arrest scheme. And while I can fight a lot of people, there’s no way I can take on all of Antrum. And with my igni out of commission? I can’t rely on their help, either. For whatever reason, I keep calling to my little supernatural buddies, and they keep not answering. No wonder they went into double-screech mode last night. It was probably the last time they could talk to me for a while.
Still, all those realizations don’t help me in my present situation. Only one thing will: and that’s exiting the room. Working my most Queenly vibe, I turn to Cissy. “Perhaps we should take a breather.”
“I know the perfect spot,” says Cis. “There’s a Pulpitum near here that can take us to Purgatory.”
“Ah-ah-ah,” counters Evil Lincoln. “Myla must return to her chambers. That way, the royal physician can check her out at a moment’s notice.”
“We have doctors in Purgatory,” says Cissy.
The temperature in the room goes up about twenty degrees. I know what my Earls think about partially demon doctors treating the royal heir. None of them are fans.
Clearly, Evil Lincoln has the same thought. “Perhaps it might help if a few of the Razor Guards accompanied you to your chambers, my sweet. You need to be seen by Antrum doctors and safely.”
“I’ll pass, thanks.” I loop my arm with Cissy’s. “My best friend and I will go right back to my chambers. The guards can alert you when we arrive. Good enough?”
A muscle twitches by Evil Lincoln’s eye, and I wonder if it will start drooping again. “Of course. Be safe, my dearest love.”
“Sure thing.” I address the room. “Goodbye, everyone.”
As Cissy and I march out the door, I know one thing for certain.
There is no way I’m being held hostage. Cissy and I are finding a way to Earth and after that? I am rescuing my Lincoln.
Chapter Seven
Cissy and I turn down another corridor in Arx Hall. While the honeymoon palace was all dark wood and earth tones, everything in here sparkles with gold. I’m not really focusing the scenery, though. I can’t wait for me and Cissy to reach my chambers. Once we’re alone, we can lay out a plan to leave Antrum and find my Lincoln.
As we speed along, Cissy shoots a nervous glance over her shoulder. “This place gives me the creeps,” she whispers.
When I reply, I take care to keep my voice low as well. “That’s because a pair of Razor Guards are following us.”
“How do you know?”
“Let’s just say I’ve learned a lot on demon patrol.” Actually, my education on tracking comes from Lincoln, who’s simply the best hunter in the after-realms. But I can’t mention my guy’s name without tearing up, so I don’t add in that part.
“What should we do?” asks Cis.
“Ignore them. Once they confirm we’ve gone into my chambers, they should go back to the summit. There are other thrax guards around who can ensure we stay put.” And those are easier to avoid.
Cissy purses her lips. “But we aren’t staying in your chambers, are we?”
“What makes you say that?”
“I know my Myla.”
In reply, I give her a wink. Cissy knows that means, Hells no, we aren’t staying put.
Cissy and I pass a bunch of thrax guards, enter my royal chambers, and shut the doors tight. I call it my chambers, but this place is more of a mini-house than anything. Cissy and I make our way into what would be a living room back in Purgatory.
I plunk down onto a comfy leather couch. “We can talk freely here. Lincoln and I put in ton of silencer spells.”
Cissy sits down beside me and launches into a rapid-fire series of questions. “Why were so many people at that summit? Who’s that freckle-faced guy? And what’s wrong with Lincoln?”
It takes a while, but I explain how Lincoln’s been replaced by an evil body double with a droopy eye; that this whole summit thing is just a ploy to get thrax troops onto Earth; and how Ethan is the creepy mastermind behind it all. After that, I tell her how Ethan has lured all the Earls to his side by promising them easy demon patrols. It all starts with Touch The Tech, an event Ethan is holding on Earth.
“So what’s this event about, exactly?” asks Cissy.
“It’s Ethan’s first demon patrol with his souped-up technology. The Earls are so excited to run the patrols, they’re ignoring red flags right and left. Ethan is not planning to improve demon patrols for our people. He kept talking about new kinds of demons that humans could see—he said they were a threat to his company.” I close my eyes tightly, trying to put the pieces of information into a larger picture. For now, I can’t. “There’s something else going on at that event, but I can’t worry about that now. I need to find Lincoln.”
Cissy rubs her forehead. “I don’t get it. Why would Ethan put Lincoln in a laboratory? I mean, if he wanted to replace your Lincoln with a fake, why would he keep the real deal alive?”
I take in a deep breath and force the words from my mouth. “Ethan’s building a bunch of machines—tanks, planes and other human stuff—that he’s combined with thrax magic. Supposedly it’s all for demon patrol and uses good magic.” I make little quotation marks with my fingers when I saw good magic. “But it’s really black magic.”
Cissy narrows her eyes. “I don’t know a lot about black magic. How would that affect your Lincoln?”
“Black magic works by using the essence of an angelic soul. Real angels are hard to capture, so the most common sources are thrax. It’s best to drain them in their prime, just after adulthood.” A knot of grief tightens my throat. “That’s why Ethan took my Lincoln and is keeping him. Ethan wants to take my guy’s soul energy. I must find my Lincoln before his energy is drained. Once that’s gone, he’ll die.”
“Oh, Myla. That’s terrible.”
Normally, I’d enjoy a few minutes of sympathy from Cissy. But right now? Nervous energy zings through my body. It’s like I could crawl out of my own skin. I scrub my hands over my face. “Look, sitting on the couch is making me crazy. You want in on helping me?”
“You know I do.”
“Then, it’s time for us to leave Antrum and find Lincoln. Let’s hit the Arx Hall Pulpitum.”
“Okay. How will we get past these guards, though?”
I stare at Cis for a few seconds before the little gears in my mind put things together. “That’s right. You and I mostly hang out in Purgatory.” I gesture around the room. “Arx Hall is lousy with secret passages.”
Cissy gives me the side eye. “No way.”
I stroll to the far wall and knock on one of the doors. “See this? It looks like a regular closet.” Turning the handle to the right, I open the door.
Cissy leans forward on the couch and squints. “It is a regular closet.”
“Only when you open the door by turning the handle to the right.” I glance inside the opened space. The closet is lined with shelves of bottles that are filled with cleaning goop.
“So, what’s the trick?” asks Cissy.
“In this case, it’s all in the handle.” I close the closet door and tap the handle in question with my pointer finger. “Now, most handles only turn clockwise. But with this one, when you turn it to the left, the shelves slide away and—voila—you have a passage.”
“Excellent.” Cissy stands, too. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s get out of here.” I grip the handle. “One, two three.” I turn the handle to the left and open the door.
But no secret passage appears.
Instead, a wall of black fire rolls out to meet me. On reflex, I crouch to the ground. Like last time in the study with Lincoln, dark flames engulf me, but they don’t actually burn. My gaze locks on Cissy. She was too far away to be affected, so she just stares me, her mouth open.
For a moment, my mind returns to the la
st time I saw a display of black magic power: when Ethan took my Lincoln. My mind blanks. Fear and hurt zing through my nervous system.
Once the smoke has cleared, I force myself to focus again. There should be a passage beyond the opened door. There isn’t. What should be a hidden corridor is a solid wall. My jaw tightens with frustration.
Damn you, Ethan.
Cissy rushes to my side. “Myla, are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I start pushing on the black plastic wall with my palms. My tail tries jabbing it as well. “There shouldn’t be a wall here.”
Cissy touches the dark surface. “How did this happen?”
“Ethan did it somehow. It’s just like when he sent that arrow to Lincoln. We saw a wave of black fire, and then the mirror turned into this vortex.”
“But there wasn’t an arrow this time. How did he do it?”
A realization appears. “Wait a second.” Leaning over, I examine the door. Sure enough, the handle is not some old-fashioned L-shaped job that’s the standard here in Arx Hall. Nope, this is now a sleek metallic number, all black, with little rune notches in it. I’ve seen that exact pattern before. Ethan carved it into the arrow that took my Lincoln away.
In other words, this handle is definitely one of Ethan’s creations.
A sickly feeling crawls up my throat. Ethan probably sent Evil Lincoln in here with a bunch of hardware that could block up every secret passage. He’s been planning to trap me for ages.
My inner rage demon roars to life inside me. “That butthead!”
Cissy gasps. “Did you say butthead?”
“I’m trying to be more Queenly,” I growl. “And Queens don’t swear.” Much. I think.
“Okay,” says Cissy slowly. “Which particular butthead are we talking about here?”
“Ethan.” I rattle the door. “He made this handle and laced it with black magic.”
“Got it.” Cissy nibbles on her thumbnail for a few seconds. “Wait. Maybe he didn’t get to all of the doors. You said your chambers had lots of secret passages.”
I snap my fingers. “Good thinking.”
With that, I rush from one secret passageway to the next. First, I check on the one in the pantry. Then the bedroom floor. After that, the hallway closet. None of them have any obvious machinery like the first handle. Unfortunately, all of them are still totally booby-trapped. The second I pry them open, I get a poof of black flame and an impassable wall.
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