In the lobby I looked down one of the plush carpeted hallways and caught a glimpse of the boardroom. The door was open just a crack and I couldn’t help wondering what was so important that Jake hadn’t been able to tear himself away to see me. Normally he leapt at the chance to spend time together. I crept a little closer, despite Tucker’s apprehension.
Through the crack I could see the shadows of about half a dozen demons illuminated by the fire burning in the grate. They were sitting around a long table with a decanter of whiskey and empty glasses scattered in front of them. They all had notepads except for one who was standing and presiding over the meeting. A PowerPoint presentation was in progress; its images drawn from the most catastrophic events in human history. I only caught a few as they flashed by; Hiroshima, Adolf Hitler standing at a podium, war tanks, wailing civilians, homes reduced to rubble after natural disasters.
I could make out only a fraction of the presenter, but it was enough to see how different he was from the others. For a start he was much older and wore a white linen suit while the others were in black. On his feet were cowboy boots, the kind with decorative stitching. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but I could hear snatches of what he was saying to the group. His voice was gravely and seemed to fill every inch of the room.
“This world is ripe for the taking,” he said. “People have never been more in doubt of their faith, more uncertain of God’s existence.” He seized a fistful of air to emphasize his point. “This is our time. I want to see multitudes falling into the Pit. Remember that human weakness is your greatest asset; ambition, love of money, physical pleasures … those are your best weapons. I want you to think big. Don’t focus on easy prey. Exceed your own expectations — I want to see a body count like we’ve never seen before. I want you to take down bishops, cardinals, generals, presidents! Rest assured you shall be richly rewarded.”
Then Tucker was tugging at my sleeve, pulling me back into the lobby.
“Enough,” he said softly. “We’ve seen enough.”
20
Hell’s Sweetheart
I was hoping to talk things over with Tuck, but once we got back to the hotel there didn’t seem all that much to say. We were both too deflated to discuss what’d happened. Not only had we possibly blown our one chance at escape but Taylah had paid the price for it.
I tossed and turned after Tucker left. Soon my pillow was damp with tears as I recalled the sound of the hellhounds tearing at my friend before dragging her into the abyss. To make matters worse, we’d been so close to home. Gabriel had been just on the other side of the portal and I could still remember the feel of Phantom’s spongy nose in my hand. Maybe I should have called out — maybe Gabe could have done something. But there was no use wondering about what might have been. The words I’d heard from the charismatic presenter in the boardroom kept replaying over and over in my head: People have never been more in doubt of their faith. I cried harder then and not just for Taylah. I wept because I knew it was true. Humanity had never been more vulnerable and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it from down here. Finally my tears dried up and I fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
I woke to the sound of urgent whispering. I blinked groggily, refusing to believe it could be morning already. It seemed like only minutes ago that my head had hit the pillow. Hanna’s wide brown eyes came slowly into focus. She was peering at me in her usual fretful manner and shaking my shoulder to rouse me. Hanna’s honey-colored hair had been wound into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, but I noticed that a few strands had escaped and fallen loose. They shone like threads of gold in the lamplight. Hanna could hardly be called optimistic, but somehow her presence always had a positive effect on me. Her affection was genuine and amid all the darkness surrounding me I knew her loyalty was something I could rely on. I sat up and tried to look more alert than I felt.
“You must get up, miss!” Hanna said, trying to tug back the covers. I resisted her efforts, pulling the duvet up around my shoulders. “Mr. Thorn is waiting for you downstairs. He wants you to get ready for an important outing.”
“I’m not interested in any of his outings,” I grumbled. “You can tell him I’m not going anywhere. Say I’m sick or something.” Hanna shook her head vigorously.
“He was very explicit, miss. He even gave instructions as to what you should wear.”
Hanna lifted a shiny, flat white box sitting on the floor beside the bed and placed it on my lap. I tore off the gold bow and waded impatiently through the layers of tissue paper before lifting out a garment unlike any I had hanging in my closet. Hanna gasped in admiration when she saw it. It was a vivid cherry-colored gown made of the softest crushed velvet. With its dramatic bell sleeves and brocade armbands, it was something you might imagine the Lady of Shalott wearing. With it came a delicate belt made of rings of beaten brass.
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Hanna, momentarily forgetting where it had come from. I wasn’t so easily seduced.
“What’s Jake up to now?”
“It’s for the parade,” Hanna said. She dropped her gaze and I had the distinct feeling she was holding out on me. I folded my arms and gave her a questioning look.
“The prince wishes to present you to the people today,” she finally revealed.
“What people?” I rolled my eyes. “This isn’t some medieval kingdom.”
“His people,” Hanna explained quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”
“Because I knew you would get upset. This is an important event; you cannot refuse.”
I hunkered down determinedly under the covers. “We’ll see about that.”
“Don’t be foolish, miss.” Hanna leaned toward me earnestly.
“If you don’t go willingly he will drag you there himself. Today means a lot to him.”
I looked at Hanna and saw how fearful she was of Jake’s wishes being defied. She’d be horrified if she knew about the trip to the Wasteland. As always it made me wonder what the consequence of my noncompliance might be. No doubt Hanna would be held accountable. My resolve faltered and I threw off the covers, climbed out of bed, and dragged myself into the shower. When I emerged, I saw that Hanna had made up the bed and carefully laid out the gown along with the black satin shoes that went with it.
“He doesn’t really expect me to wear that?” I asked. “It’s not a costume party, is it?”
Hanna ignored me. Her eyes were still darting nervously toward the door as she hastily helped me into the dress and hooked it up at the back. Despite being made of velvet it felt as delicate and weightless as a second skin. Hanna made me sit while she tugged at my hair to create elaborate side braids, deftly weaving satin ribbons through them, before lightly dusting powder on my face and midnight blue eye shadow on my lids.
“I look ridiculous,” I said irritably, examining myself in the cheval mirror.
“Nonsense,” Hanna replied briskly. “You look like a queen.” I didn’t want to leave my hotel suite to participate in what promised to be another one of Jake’s garish events. My room was the only place where I felt halfway comfortable and secure, but a jittery Hanna took me by the arm and ushered me out the door.
In the lobby there was a small party waiting for us, most of whom I recognized from the night of the banquet. When I stepped out of the glass elevator, the cluster of people waiting fell suddenly silent as they examined me. I looked around for Tucker but couldn’t find him. Jake, who had been pacing agitatedly up and down the lobby, came toward me looking relieved and approving at the same time. He shot Hanna a vicious look, no doubt blaming her for our delayed arrival.
Jake took my hands and held them up in order to take in my appearance. A smile of appreciation lightened the usual surliness of his face.
“Perfect,” he murmured. I made no move to acknowledge his compliment. Jake himself was dressed so formally in his gloves and tailcoat he could have belonged to an eighteenth century portrait. His hair was immaculately
tied back and his coal black eyes were alight.
“No biker jacket today?” I asked drily.
“We must choose our fashion to match the occasion,” he replied amicably. He was relaxed again now that I’d made my appearance. “You forget how much of the world I’ve seen. I can pick and choose my fashion choices from the last two thousand years, but I find anything preceding the last century to be a little dated.”
I spotted Asia in the lobby throwing me toxic looks. She was wearing a slinky copper gown with a plunging neckline and slits that reached the tops of her toned thighs. Her pearly lips shone like mirrors as she sidled up to Jake wearing a sulky pout.
“It’s time we got going,” she said. “You ready, Princess?” I knew she wouldn’t rat us out to Jake for fear of exposing herself, but it still made my skin prickle uncomfortably when she addressed me directly.
A pink convertible limo was waiting for us outside. The driver got out and robotically opened the doors for us. When we were seated, Jake said something to him in a language I didn’t understand and he started the engine.
We drove until we came out onto an open road. It was the first time Jake had voluntarily let me venture outside the underground tunnels. At first all I saw was a scarlet sky, lit by ferocious reams of fire. A seething mass crawled across it, marring the horizon. It seemed almost alive, twitching and writhing, until I realized it wasn’t a shadow like I thought, but a swarm of locusts. I’d never seen anything like it before. We drove as if in slow motion, steam rising from the pavement. After what seemed an eternity the car finally turned onto a road, flanked by the charred ruins of various vehicles. It was a desolate landscape that called to mind the setting of a sci-fi movie, where the hero finds himself forced to survive the aftermath of a nuclear war.
I couldn’t say for certain where we were. Other than my brief and botched excursion into the Wasteland, I had never been beyond the tunnels. I was puzzling over our location when through the haze I started to make out bedraggled figures lining the road. Then I saw the crowd — hundreds, thousands of them — waiting for us, enveloped in smoke and ash. A sea of faces turned expectantly toward us, searching for something. They stared with vacant eyes and waited. What were they waiting for, I wondered. Some kind of sign or signal, but of what? I noticed they must have been wearing the exact same clothes they’d died in. Some wore hospital gowns or shirts smattered with blood and dirt. Others were well dressed in business suits or evening gowns, but they all shared that withered, vacant look of the walking dead.
Within seconds the crowd came to life and began jostling one another for a better vantage point. Their sunken eyes watched me with a burning curiosity. As if in response to an unseen cue, they began cheering and clapping, reaching out to us with skeletal limbs. I shrank back in fear, for once thankful that Jake was with me. Though I resented him and knew this hideous parade was his doing, I found myself drawing closer to him. Ironically, he was the closest thing I had to a security blanket in this place and right then his presence was the only thing keeping me sane.
As the limo crawled along the road the crowd swarmed around it. I had no idea where we were headed or what event these souls had gathered to witness, but I did know that Jake was parading me through the streets like some kind of trophy. I knew I represented a triumph over the forces of Heaven. My capture was a coup for Jake and I could see in his face that he was enjoying every moment.
Suddenly Jake was on his feet in the limo, pulling me up to join him. I tried to wrestle free, but his grip was so tight that when he took his hands away he left two red welts behind. The crowd seemed to go wild now, clambering over one another to scramble onto the hoods of cars or hang out of the charred windows.
“You should wave,” Jake said. “Get some practice in.”
“At least tell me where you’re taking me?” I said.
Jake gave me one of his trademark looks, half smile and half sneer. “And spoil the surprise?”
The driver made a left off the main road and pulled up in front of what appeared to be a junkyard with pylons of twisted metal. An area had been cleared to erect a makeshift stage complete with microphones and speakers. Jake’s bodyguards, wired so they could communicate with one another, patroled the area. Jake offered me his arm and I was so overwhelmed by the commotion happening around me that I actually took it. He looked smug but I was too nervous to care. Together we climbed the red-carpeted steps as if we were A-listers at some Hollywood party. Waiting for us onstage beneath a canopy of twisted black roses were two silver thrones, draped with black mink. Perhaps in a different setting they might have been striking, but today they seemed like dead weights, iron manacles binding me to this subterranean world. I wasn’t feeling too steady on my feet so when Jake escorted me to my seat, with a great show of gallantry, I sank into it with relief. A hush now fell over the amorphous crowd as they waited for Jake’s address. Even the bats I’d seen flying soundlessly overhead stopped mid-flight.
“Welcome, everyone,” Jake began. He didn’t seem to need a microphone. His powerful voice reverberated through the crowd. “Today marks a momentous occasion, not only for me but for the entire kingdom of Hades.”
The cheering rose in volume and only died down once Jake raised his hands to call for silence. Below us I noticed the elite of Hades seated in order of rank. Each wore the same condescending and somewhat sadistic expression but at the same time managed to be utterly mesmerizing. The souls seemed terrified and yet unable to tear their gazes away. I felt a burning hot wind against my cheeks and wished I were back in the penthouse; imprisoned but safe from the prying eyes of the damned.
Jake stood tall as he lifted one hand in a grand, sweeping gesture and like dominoes the watching souls fell to their knees one by one. I tried to keep my focus on the crimson sky and not look directly at anyone in the crowd. I was too afraid of what I might see in their eyes. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me something terrible was about to happen. I saw a bent and bearded old man haul himself up the steps with the aid of a staff and approach the microphone. He was dressed in the daily vestments of a priest, black cassock and white collar. His face was lined and weathered looking. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot and the skin beneath them was pouching; soft pockets of purplish flesh that reminded me of used tea bags.
“Please welcome Father Benedict,” Jake said, sounding like a talk-show host. “He will be conducting today’s ceremony.” Jake smiled indulgently as the older man bowed his head in reverence. I was taken aback to see something so sacrilegious — a man of God bowing before a demon like Jake.
“Don’t look so shocked,” Jake said casually, returning to his seat. “Even the most devout can fall.”
“You’re despicable,” was all I said.
Jake looked at me in surprise. “Why me?” He jerked his head in Father Benedict’s direction. “If you want to point the finger at someone, point it at him.”
“What is he even doing here?”
“Let’s say he failed to protect the innocent. He works for us now. I’m sure you can appreciate the irony.” I glared at him furiously. “Or not.”
It occurred to me that Jake was being deliberately cagey. Despite the heat, I felt my blood run cold, as though someone had injected shards of ice directly into my bloodstream. I knew I was Jake’s conquest, a souvenir of his victory over the agents of heaven. But what else was going on?
“Whatever you want me to do, I won’t do it,” I said.
“Calm down,” Jake replied. “Your presence is all that’s required.” Suddenly the pieces seemed to fall into place. The gown, the parade, and now a ceremony — it was starting to make sense.
“I won’t marry you,” I said, gripping the throne so hard my knuckles turned white. “Not now, not in a million years from now.”
“This isn’t a wedding, darling,” Jake said, laughing softly.
“That part comes later. As a gentleman, I would never push you into something you weren’t ready for
.”
“Oh, but kidnapping’s okay?” I asked sarcastically.
“I needed to get your attention,” Jake replied in a blasé tone.
“Do you really want to be with someone who can’t stand the sight of you?” I asked. “Don’t you have more self-respect than that?”
“How about we save the domestic spat for a more private time? Right now you’re everybody’s sweetheart. Just enjoy the moment.”
Jake gestured toward the audience, who were waiting with baited breath for something to happen. “They’ve made a long journey to welcome their new princess.”
Then, quick as lightning, he pushed back his chair and was behind me, propeling me forward so I was now center stage. There rose a collective flutter of excitement and thousands of eyes watched me with a fanatical eagerness. “This,” Jake whispered seductively from behind, “is an induction. Look around you, Bethany. This is your kingdom and these are your people.”
“I’m not their princess,” I spat. “I never will be!”
“But they want you, Beth. They need you. They’ve been waiting such a long time. Just think of the difference you could make around here.”
“I can’t help them,” I said feebly.
“Can’t or won’t?
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone loudly clearing her throat. It was the redhead named Eloise from the banquet. “Can we please get on with it?” Jake responded by motioning Father Benedict forward.
“Let’s begin.”
I had no idea what their “induction” involved, but I knew I couldn’t go through with it. I had to get away. I bolted for the steps and even managed to scramble down a couple before being met by Jake’s entourage below. Soon they were swarming around me. Their hot hands grasped at me from every direction. Their faces contorted with pleasure, flashing between masks of beauty and their true grotesque forms. A few moments later, I was forcibly returned to my seat. Jake sat beside me looking serene. The priest placed a silver crown of vine leaves on his head and it shimmered against his smooth dark hair. In his gnarled hands, Father Benedict held an identical crown intended for me. When he spoke, his throaty voice resounded through the space.
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