Hades

by Alexandra Adornetto

“I know how amazing we could be together. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t see it.”

  “So you still feel the same?” Xavier asked. “Even though you know he isn’t human?”

  “I always knew he was special somehow.” Molly sighed. “And now I know why. He’s not like any guy I’ve met because he’s not just a guy … he’s a freaking archangel.”

  “Molly, you’ve got so many guys chasing you, you practically have to beat them off with a stick.”

  “Yeah, but they’re not him. I don’t want anyone else and he doesn’t want me. There are times when I think he feels something, but then he just shuts it off.”

  “You’re going to have to learn to do the same. I know it’s hard, but you have to look after yourself. Think about what you want long term. If Gabe doesn’t want to be part of your life, it’s doesn’t mean yours is over.”

  “How am I ever gonna replace someone that perfect? No one will ever measure up which means my life is pretty much over at seventeen. I’ll end up like Mrs. Kratz at school—a dried-up old prune reading romance novels and supervising study hall.”

  “I don’t think you’ll end up like Kratz—you need a college degree to do her job.”

  “You suck at giving advice!” Molly’s face cleared as she let out a peal of laughter. Then her face became suddenly serious.

  “Do you think we’ll find Beth?”

  “Yes.” Xavier didn’t blink.

  “How do you know for sure?”

  “Because I’m not stopping until we do, that’s how. Now, are we heading to Tennessee or what?”

  Before following Molly out the door Xavier moved to the window and put his palm over the outline of the heart enclosing our initials.

  “I’m coming, Beth,” he murmured. “I know you’re feeling lost right now, but I want you to be strong for both of us. Just remember who you are, what you were created to do. No one can take that away from you, no matter where you are. I feel your presence with me all the time so don’t go giving up now. There’s no way I’m staying here without you. If Heaven couldn’t separate us, Hell’s got no damn chance. Hang in there. I’ll see you soon.”

  When Jake returned I knew my last hope of escaping death had expired. I looked at his face as he leaned against the door frame and saw that it was whiter than parchment. He pressed his head into his hands in frustration. I waited to feel something like anger, fear, or even despair, but I felt none of those things. Maybe it was because the idea of not existing didn’t make sense in my head yet. Part of me didn’t even think it was possible. I had always existed, if not as a human on solid earth, then as an essence in Heaven. I still existed now even though I didn’t know how to define myself anymore. I couldn’t imagine no longer being able to think or feel or yearn for my family. Was it really possible that by morning I would disappear forever, lost not only to those around me, but lost to myself as well? Where would I go? I was barred from earth, not permitted back to Heaven, and not accepted in Hell. I would simply cease to exist and it would be like I never lived at all.

  With a movement as quick as a tiger pouncing, Jake was by my side.

  “I suppose saying I’m sorry doesn’t really cut it,” he said, looking down at me with real pain in his coal black eyes. If he had one redeeming feature it was that he genuinely didn’t want to see me go.

  “I played a part,” I said numbly. “I used my powers in the wrong place.”

  “I should have known you’d react that way, I should have warned you!” Jake slammed his fist into a timber post so hard that an explosion of dirt and timber fragments rained down on us from above. Jake brushed the debris from my hair and I didn’t recoil because I found myself unable to react to anything right now. I couldn’t move; it was as if I’d forgotten how.

  “I guess we both misjudged,” I said with a tight smile. “Rookie mistake, right?”

  A car drove me back to Hotel Ambrosia, Jake speeding ahead of us on his motorbike. He drove recklessly, almost swerving the bike off the road several times. I imagined him turning over new ideas in his head as he rode, locked in his own world of plotting and scheming. I didn’t argue when he accompanied me up to my suite. All of this might have been his fault, but I didn’t want to spend my final hours alone.

  Hanna was waiting for me with a tray of supper. For once, I didn’t push the food away or tell her to leave it for later. For the first time in Hades, I took notice of the food offered to me: thin slices of rye bread, goat cheese, smoked salmon curled in waves around the rim of the plate, shiny olives, and ruby colored wine that tasted of plums. I ate slowly, making sure I tasted every mouthful. For me the food was reminiscent of my memories of being on earth. It was something I’d never experience again and I wanted the moment to last.

  Hanna had never seen me eat with such focus or tolerate Jake’s company without complaint. She watched me, her face crumpled in pain. There was no way for her to help me now and she knew it.

  “Everything will be okay, miss,” she said eventually. “Perhaps things will have changed in the morning.”

  “Yes,” I murmured vacantly. “Everything will be better in the morning.”

  Hanna took a few tentative steps toward me, conscious that Jake was watching her every move.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Just get some rest, Hanna. Don’t worry about me.”

  “But . .”

  “You heard her,” Jake said in his most chilling voice. “Clear this away and leave us in peace.”

  Hanna nodded subserviently and hurriedly cleared the dishes, throwing me a final look of distress over her shoulder.

  “Good night, Hanna,” I called softly after her as she slipped out the door. “Thank you—for everything.”

  When she was gone, I went through the motions of washing my face and brushing my teeth. I paid meticulous attention to each routine. Everything felt different to me now. I was acutely aware of the warm water running in rivulets over my body, the feel of the clean cotton towels against my skin. Every movement felt new, as if I were experiencing it for the first time. It occurred to me that I might be in Hell, but I was still alive. I was still a living, breathing, talking person. Not for much longer.

  I stepped out of the bathroom to find Jake half sitting, half slumped on the sofa, staring into space with his chin pressed into his hand. The black tailcoat lay discarded on the floor along with the white bow tie. He had his shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows as if in preparation for strenuous work. The room smelled strongly of cigarettes. Jake had poured himself a large tumbler of scotch, and it seemed to have steadied his nerves. He held the bottle up to see if I wanted to join him, but I shook my head. I didn’t want my thoughts muddled by alcohol. I moved around him, straightened the cushions on the sofa, tipped out the contents of the ashtray, and rearranged the items on my dressing table. Eventually, I ran out of things to distract me and there was nothing left to do but climb into the vast bed, huddle into a corner, and wait for morning. It was clear neither of us would be getting any sleep. Jake didn’t try and talk to me; he was like a statue, locked in his own world. I hugged my knees and waited patiently for the terror I expected to finally break over me like a tidal wave. But it refused to come. I had no idea what time it was. There was a digital clock by the phone, but I tried not to look at it. I couldn’t help sneaking a look once and saw that it was three forty-five A.M. The minutes seemed to stretch for an eternity because when I looked again only a few minutes had passed. Jake and I remained lost in our own private thoughts.

  I hoped my last thoughts before I lost consciousness would be of Xavier. I tried to imagine a fairy-tale ending for him with an adoring wife and five children. Phantom would live with them and the house would be full of music and laughter. On Sundays he would coach the local Little League team. Xavier would think of me from time to time, usually in moments of solitude. But he would think of me only as a distant memory, as the high school sweetheart who’d left a mark on his heart but was ne
ver destined to be part of his future.

  “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Jake’s voice cut through my reverie like a blade. “I don’t blame you. He would never have done anything so stupid—he at least protected you. You must despise me now more than you ever did.”

  “I don’t want to spend my last hours being angry, Jake,” I said. “What’s done is done—there’s no point blaming you now.”

  “I promise I will fix this, Bethany,” he said fiercely. “I won’t let them harm you.” His refusal to accept the reality in front of us was becoming irritating.

  “Look, I know you’re used to calling the shots and all,” I said. “But even you can’t change this.”

  “We could run,” Jake muttered, talking rapidly as his mind desperately searched for solutions. “But all the exits here are guarded. Even if we managed to outsmart the guards we wouldn’t get far. Maybe I could bribe one of them to let us into the Wasteland …”

  I wasn’t really listening. I didn’t want to hear his far-fetched ideas and I wished he would just be quiet for a while.

  “We still have time before dawn,” Jake continued, talking to himself now. “I’ll come up with something.”

  23

  Blood Sports

  WHEN the Hades’ dawn broke, I wasn’t prepared for it and neither was Jake. Voices outside in the hall blasted through the silence and jolted us both out of our trance-like states. I was surprised to find I hadn’t closed my eyes all night. I was still sitting stiffly under the covers, with my knees drawn up to my chin. Jake sprang up from his position on the couch, glaring at the door with a venomous expression.

  “They’re here,” he announced in a voice full of doom.

  When the door opened it revealed an entourage that included Diego, Asia, and several other demons I only vaguely recognized. No less than four hulking bodyguards accompanied them.

  “Sure you’ve got enough backup there?” Jake growled, his dark eyes flashing with fury.

  “Big Daddy anticipated you might put up a fight,” Diego gave him a lopsided grin and flicked his head in my direction. “Take her.”

  The tank-like guards stormed into the room and soon I felt their vast hands close around my forearms, hauling me easily out of bed like a rag doll. I was still barefoot and in my nightgown. I stumbled when they tied my wrists roughly together with rope and used it to pull me unceremoniously across the room.

  “Don’t manhandle her!” Jake took a step toward me and the other demons sprang, immediately closing in on him. It was appalling to see his brothers and sisters turn on him so quickly. In the chaos, he disappeared from view and all I could hear was a chorus of vicious snarling and spitting. The fear was beginning to well up in me now and I couldn’t stop myself from shaking.

  “Beth!” I could hear Jake calling to me, his voice filled with desperation. “Beth, I won’t let them go through with it!” But I didn’t believe him and I could tell he didn’t either. All conviction was gone from his voice.

  The guards pushed me roughly down the passage and headed for the lobby. The others followed, casually chatting among themselves. When I caught her eye, Asia winked at me. In the lobby, Tucker appeared out of nowhere, his face a mask of distress. I could tell from the haunted look in his eyes that he’d heard the news. I tried not to look at him as we passed. I didn’t want to make him feel any worse.

  “Beth!” he yelled as the procession passed him. He lunged forward, trying to fight his way through the throng of demons to reach me. Nash snapped his fingers, and with a sickening crunch, Tuck’s legs buckled beneath him. He cried out and I heard the sharp crack of bones breaking as he crumpled to the ground. I craned my neck to look back at him as I was shoved through the revolving glass doors.

  “It’s okay, Tuck,” I called. “I’ll be okay!” I glared furiously at Nash, who was striding casually alongside me. “Fix him,” I said in a thin voice. “Your vendetta against me has nothing to do with him.”

  “You’re really not in a position to be making demands,” Nash replied pleasantly.

  A fleet of black Escalades was waiting for us in the tunnel outside the hotel. I was bundled brusquely into the front one, sitting between Asia and Diego. Up close, they reeked of cigarette smoke, hard liquor, and pungent perfume. I slid down in my seat and tried to regulate my breathing, telling myself I wasn’t truly going to die. Something would happen; someone would come to my rescue. They had to.

  “Take us to the Ninth Circle,” Diego told the driver. “And take the back route.”

  “At least you get to check out from Big Daddy’s pad,” Asia told me. “How’s that for VIP treatment?”

  I bit my lip and didn’t respond. I focused on the gliding of the car as it sped through the pockmarked underground tunnels of Hades. The fear had crept from my belly into my chest now and was snaking its icy fingers up my throat, cutting off my air supply. I swallowed hard, determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.

  To get to the Ninth Circle we had to travel deeper underground and when the cars stopped I saw that we were in a vast and ancient amphitheater at the very core of the earth, its center strewn with red sand. The stands were packed as if the entire populace of Hades had been invited to witness this momentous event. Lucifer and the seven other Originals occupied the sheltered seats in the highest tier, where they watched the proceedings with zeal, as if they were expecting a show. Human servants refilled their goblets and offered platters of food. On a raised platform in the center of the arena rose a tall wooden stake. Its base had been driven into the ground. A pile of dry sticks and straw had been arranged in a pyramid around it. The flammable material reached halfway up the stake, around where I calculated my waist would be.

  The executioner was not a hooded medieval figure as I’d expected but a man in a business suit, his clothes so understated he might have passed for a bank clerk. It was only his sunken gray cheeks and colorless lips that made him look like death personified. When his scabby hands reached for me my skin crawled at his cold touch. Although he was withered looking I was no match for his wiry strength. He untied my wrists and pinned my arms behind me so that I was pressed against the stake. I remained motionless as he used even thicker ropes to bind my arms, waist, and feet to the stake. He pulled the ropes so tight they chafed and cut into my skin. The sticks and straw bit at my bare feet and ankles, but I couldn’t move an inch. The crowd watched the proceedings with a sense of mounting excitement. I tried to keep my eyes turned upward and to dissociate myself with what was happening to my body. But I couldn’t keep my thoughts from taking a gruesome turn. How long would it take for a victim to burn—minutes or hours? Did the body burn in sections from the feet up? Would I pass out from the pain before my skin began to melt? Would physical burning or asphyxiation be the actual cause of death?

  When he was satisfied that I was securely tied, the executioner stood back to survey his work. Someone in the crowd passed him a rusty can of gasoline and he began to douse the straw with it. The caustic smell wafted up and burned my nostrils. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it would explode through my rib cage. The metallic taste of fear filled my mouth, but I didn’t cry out, scream, or beg for mercy. My mind and body were churning relentlessly, but I didn’t let the terror show on my face.

  “This,” the executioner croaked in my ear, “is what happens to those who serve the wrong master. Heaven’s gone bankrupt, haven’t you heard?” He jumped off the platform.

  Lucifer rose to his feet and the crowd fell instantly silent. He looked around for a moment, his eyes seeming to absorb everything, down to the last minute detail. He didn’t speak, just slowly raised his hand as a signal for the execution to begin.

  It was the simplest, most casual gesture, but it resulted in the crowd letting out an uproarious cheer. His power over them was absolute. It was frightening to watch how they both feared and adored him. When he motioned for silence the result was instantaneous and every sound was extinguishe
d as if someone had flicked a switch. A deep hush fell over the crowd as the executioner struck a long match, held it aloft for a moment, and then dropped it with a theatrical sweep of his arm onto the gasoline-doused construction. The flames roared up with lightning speed. From his seat, I saw a smile of satisfaction cross Lucifer’s face while Jake thrashed desperately against the demons restraining him. Asia was biting her lip, but only to keep her excitement in check.

  The flames rose around me like a hundred hungry mouths, quickly devouring the sticks and straw at the base of the stake. I squeezed my eyes tight shut, waiting for the suffocating heat, the inevitable agony to start. I sent a quick prayer to My Father, not in the hope of being spared but seeking forgiveness for all my failings. Then I waited for the flames to do their work.

  I felt nothing. Had the torture begun but I was in too much shock to notice? Several more moments passed without any change. I looked around to see coils of flame leaping in every direction … only they weren’t touching me. The flames rose and seemed to part around me so that two columns of fire burned on either side of my body. But I was not burning. Not even a strand of my hair was singed. All I felt was a warm prickling sensation as the fire snaked around me. My flesh should have been melting from my bones, but the fire refused to harm me. If it chanced to touch my skin it seemed to bounce off and veer in a new direction. It was as though I were wearing invisible armor. For one fleeting moment, I thought I heard a choir of angels singing. The sound was gone in an instant, but it was long enough for me to know I hadn’t been abandoned.

  It took a while for the spectators to realize what was happening. Once they did the cheers changed to howls of disappointment. Some shook their fists to indicate how cheated they felt. In the VIP stand Jake had stopped struggling and stared at me in open wonder. Lucifer looked momentarily confounded and then rose slowly to his feet, eyes flashing. Speculative whispers broke out all around the amphitheater.

  I couldn’t believe what was happening. Could this be the work of Heaven protecting me? Had someone enchanted the flames or was it my own powers keeping me safe? I had no idea, but I murmured hasty thanks to whatever higher power had chosen to spare my life. One look at Lucifer’s face told me how humiliated he felt before all those assembled. He’d intended my death to demonstrate his power and I had unwittingly shown him up. The flames seemed to be subsiding around me now.