by Bryan Smith
Which was nice, but Jack knew he couldn’t just sit back and wait for the posse to show up. He considered climbing over the railing and attempting to swing onto the balcony below, but it didn’t take long to decide this just wasn’t feasible. His broken fingers--already throbbing in a way that made him want to drain a fifth of scotch or get shot up with morphine--rendered a stunt like that impossible.
“Goddammit.”
So much for playing the role of the proactive hero. He was stuck. And some of his friends were racing toward a confrontation that likely meant their doom. There was something special about Raven Rainbolt, yes, but Jack’s incipient hope began to wither as he struggled to imagine the small woman engaging successfully in combat of any sort with Mona, who was probably immune to much of the magic that had defeated her subordinates.
He heard footsteps crunching on glass and turned around.
Smiling, Mona emerged through the broken door and stood on the balcony. “Jack, you’re not thinking about jumping, are you? No matter what your problems, suicide is not the answer.” She laughed. “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to miss the big show.”
“The big show?”
Mona pressed her body against him. “Yes, Jack, the big show. Your meddling friends have so annoyed me that I’ve decided they deserve a special brand of punishment. Someone in their midst is talented at circumventing Maverick security. So much so that I could almost suspect an inside job, but I know none of my people are that stupid. They fear me too much.” She dipped her head toward him and the tip of her nose touched Jack’s nose. Her voice became huskier. “So we have a mystery. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve instructed my people to allow them passage to the Royal Suite. They’ll be harassed as they make their way here, just enough so they won’t be suspicious.”
She leaned her full weight into Jack now, pushing him up against the railing. “When they arrive, they’ll walk straight into an ambush and be captured. Then we’ll all go down to the Maverick Theatre, where you and I can watch some very annoyed lions and tigers tear your friends apart on the stage.”
Mona kissed him lightly on the mouth. “That’s the ‘big show’, baby. Just thinking about it makes me horny.”
Jack grasped at a thread.
“You want to know what the funny thing is, Mona?”
She made that sexy purring sound of hers again. “What, darling?”
Jack forced a laugh. “Really, you’re gonna want to pay attention to this. It’s worth it.”
Mona sighed and brought her mouth away from his neck. “Okay. What’s so funny?”
“I have no idea where my father is. The last time I saw him, he vanished in a flash of light. He could be in another fucking galaxy for all I know. And as for his plans, well, it’s simple. He’s going to crush the armies of hell and end forever your visions of hell on earth.”
Mona pushed away from him and stood with her arms crossed beneath her breasts. She smiled. “Silly boy. I know that’s what he wants to do. It’s how he means to do it I need to know about.”
“So you don’t buy this as the confession you’ve been seeking?”
Mona shook her head.
“See, that’s what’s funny about it. It’s true, but you can’t believe it, because you’ve got so much invested in thinking I’ve got the inside scoop.”
Mona pursed her lips. She studied Jack for a moment, but then she just shook her head again. “No, you’re lying. Theodore Grimm wouldn’t have gone to the trouble of bringing his oldest son to hell unless he meant to share extremely important information with him. What you’re saying makes no sense. Therefore it can’t be true.”
Jack laughed. “What? Are you serious? I thought you were some kind of infernal genius or something, but I’m gonna have to rethink that, Mona. Because even you should know that…wait...what was that you said about his ‘oldest’ son? I’m an only child.”
Mona smiled. “No, Jack, you’re not. Theodore Grimm kept more than one secret from you.”
“But--”
A gasping slave arrived with more news just then, preventing him from pursuing the subject further. “Mistress, they’re almost here.”
Mona clasped hands with Jack and led him back into the Royal Suite. “Relax, Jack. Soon you and I will both know the truth about everything. I’ll tell you about your brother, and, just before you die, you’ll tell me the rest of what you know about your father’s plans.”
19.
Flight after flight, Lucien followed Raven up the stairwell. He bore the weight of the yelping prostitute without much difficulty, but he knew even someone as strong as himself would begin to feel the strain before much longer. So focused was his concentration on this task that he was startled when Raven abruptly deviated from the apparent game plan.
Raven reached the twenty-first floor landing. Rather than turn and head up the next flight of stairs, she opened the door there and reentered the hotel proper. Lucien was several steps up the next flight before what had happened registered.
“What the hell?”
He whirled about and headed back to the landing, causing Madeleine to loose a terrified squeal. He dashed through the open door and looked for Raven. She was halfway down a hallway already and showed no indication of slowing any time soon. He didn’t want to lose sight of her, so he took off after her, trusting that Andy and Siegel were close enough behind them to see what was happening. Gritting his teeth, he willed himself to move faster. A middle-aged hotel guest stepped out of her room and paid the price for her bad timing--Lucien slammed into her and sent her flying. Lucien was long gone by the time she roused herself enough to utter a protest. Then she had to contend with two more crazy men swooping past her, each of them wielding handguns. The woman fainted at the sight of the guns, which was another case of bad timing, as she was about to be trampled beneath the jackbooted feet of Mona’s thugs.
Lucien slowed some as he closed the gap between himself and Raven. This proved a wise move, as the girl came to a stop in front of a door a few rooms short of the end of the hallway. She opened the door and disappeared through it. Lucien followed her into a room that looked comfortable but clearly wasn’t one of the Maverick’s pricier suites. There were two beds, a large television, a wardrobe, and a bathroom--and not much else.
Andy and Siegel skidded into the room and Siegel kicked the door shut behind them. Huffing and puffing, Andy stood bent over, with his hands on his knees. Siegel was doing the same. Lucien wasn’t breathing so hard, but a sheen of sweat covered his heavily muscled torso. “Explain yourself, Raven. I’m trusting you’ve done the right thing, but I’m not seeing how just yet.”
Still breathing hard, Andy was standing fully upright again. “Far as I can tell, all we’ve done is put ourselves in a hell of a corner. You better have a seriously impressive rabbit ready to pull out of your hat, girl.”
Madeleine hammered at Lucien’s back with her fists. “Put me down!”
Lucien obliged. “Well, Raven?”
Raven raised a hand and pointed at the ceiling. Lucien looked up. There was nothing remarkable about the smooth expanse of white at first glance, but as he peered closer, he detected a faint, square-shaped outline about half the size of an elevator car. As Lucien watched, this section of ceiling folded back and revealed an opening.
Andy frowned. “So we’re just going up to the next floor? Brilliant strategy. They’ll be waiting for us by the time we get there.”
Raven shook her head. “No.”
She held her hands above her head and shot up into the air. She disappeared through the hole. Lucien, Andy, and even Siegel exchanged puzzled glances. Then a rope ladder dropped through the hole and unfurled. The bottom end brushed the carpeted floor.
Lucien looked at Andy. “What the fucking fuck?”
Andy shrugged. “Hell. We’ve gotten this far blindly following Supergirl. Why stop now?”
Lucien seized Madeleine and hoisted her over his shoulder again.
“Oh, yo
u bloody cock! Why is this happening to me?”
Andy said, “Because God hates you. Which pretty much makes it unanimous.”
Madeleine flipped him a middle finger in the last moment before Lucien disappeared through the hole. Something hit the hotel room door with astonishing force, making the hinges groan. Another couple blows like that--maybe just one--and the door would come crashing down. Siegel climbed the rope ladder and Andy hurried after him. By the time Mona’s soldiers gained entry to the room, the ladder and the hole in the ceiling had vanished without a trace.
So, too, had Lucien and his comrades. At least this is how it seemed to Lucien. It was immediately clear that they had not simply ascended to the room above the one they’d just departed. Lucien could move his body, but there was nothing like a solid surface anywhere beneath his feet. Which was just weird, even for a dimension-hopping renegade hellhound.
He heard Andy’s voice: “So. We seem to have followed Alice into goddamned Wonderland. Only Wonderland is as dark as the interior of Satan’s infernal arsehole. I guess this is better than being riddled with machine gun bullets, but only marginally.”
Madeleine was doing a lot of screaming.
Andy raised his voice. “I’d tell her to shut up, but she’s perfectly expressing how I feel.”
“A-hem.”
Madeleine’s screeching abruptly ceased. Indeed, the one sound from Raven announcing her presence silenced them all. Raven didn’t say much, but she was the architect of this madness, so when she did speak they were compelled to listen.
“I understand you’re all confused and frightened. But you are in a safe place. I want you to think back to when I came to your assistance in the casino. Think about your first glimpse of me. What do you remember?”
Lucien put himself back in those harrowing moments. There had been too many of Mona Faust’s assassins bearing down on them. He knew both Andy and Siegel would have fought valorously alongside him, but ultimately they would have been overcome. Instead, Raven Rainbolt had emerged--through a hole in the ceiling--and had saved them from imminent dismemberment and death.
“You came through a hole in the ceiling,” Andy said.
Madeleine elaborated: “Just like the one we passed through.”
Siegel said, “My girl always has more tricks up her sleeve. I confess, though, to being in the dark about this one.”
Andy cackled. “We’re all in the fucking dark, mate.”
“We’ll leave this place soon,” Raven continued. “Until then, we are beyond the reach of our adversaries. We are in a space that, for them, does not exist. There are cracks in the fabric of reality, tiny gaps between worlds accessible only to those with the right knowledge, including descendents of the Order of Sylvain. When we emerge from this dark place, we will be in the suite directly beneath the one in which Jack Grimm is imprisoned.”
“So what are we waiting for?” Lucien asked.
“We’re allowing time enough for word of our inexplicable disappearance to reach Mona Faust. We want both her and her minions confused and scrambling for answers. An ambush has been set for us. As confusion mounts, these plans will fall into disarray. Mona will be furious. And a furious Mona Faust is a creature out of control. She will take her anger out on her own people. She’ll likely kill some of them. We’ll make our move then.”
Lucien nodded. “Your strategy is a good one.”
Andy grunted. “One question--why not port us directly into the Royal Suite?”
“Because that suite is fortified by a very sensitive occult energy field. It’s the best alarm system ever devised. I wouldn’t be able to breach it even via reality gaps. Ordinary magic I can circumvent. But not infernal magic.”
Andy made a contemplative sound. “Regardless of whether the scenario you’ve described develops, they’re gonna know we’re coming before we get there.”
“Unavoidable. However, if we move quickly enough, I believe they’ll still be caught off-guard.”
Andy sighed. “Well, there aren’t any other options I can see. So when do we get on with this?”
Raven said, “Now.”
Lucien looked up and saw a white disc open above his head. Then he saw another shape, a human form, rising toward it. Raven. She disappeared through the disc. Something else materialized, a physical presence that had not been there before. A rope ladder.
A hand touched his shoulder.
Madeleine. “Passenger ready to board, sir.”
Lucien picked her up, took hold of the ladder, and climbed out of that dark place.
20.
“Something’s not right.”
Jack sat in a leather recliner in front of the Royal Suite’s immense fireplace. Columns of flame taller than Jack danced like pagan ghosts in the blackened recess. At first he puzzled over the presence of a fireplace here, given the arid desert climate. But Mona was from hell, where he supposed they liked it hot. The warmth was oddly pleasant, which maybe had something to do with the level of bone-chilling malevolence Mona exuded now. She stalked the area between the recliner and the fireplace like a frustrated beast of prey.
Jack drank from the bottle of fine scotch Mona had retrieved from the bar and thrust into his hands. “Hmm, so, for reasons you’ve yet to divulge, you feel things are suddenly not going your way. Am I supposed to care? That’s good news for me, right?”
Mona ceased pacing and stood before him. “No, Jack. It’s not. I don’t know what’s wrong, but something is. I feel it. If your friends have somehow gained the upper hand, I’ll rip your body to pieces before they can get to you.”
Jack shuddered. He understood this was no idle threat. “Fine. Do whatever you have to do, Mona. At least I’ll die knowing the good guys kicked your ass.”
Mona’s expression hardened an additional degree. “Perhaps I should start now by twisting your fingers off, beginning with the broken ones.”
“I’m sure I’ll scream like a baby. And I’m just as sure you’ll enjoy that. But torturing me at this stage won’t change anything. The die is cast, as they say.” Jack drank some scotch, then frowned at the bottle. He looked at Mona again. “The threats I understand. That’s standard operating procedure for your kind. What I don’t get is why you keep supplying me with quality hooch.”
A frosty smile touched the corners of Mona’s mouth. “Because you’re a drunk. You’re no better than some stinking, panhandling tramp on the street. You’ve spent most of your life a payday or two away from skid row. An innocent girl in Cincinnati died because you were passed out, too drunk to realize what was happening and call paramedics.” She snatched the bottle from Jack’s hand and took a gulp of scotch. “Every drop you drink is another stain on your soul. Every drop makes you that much more thoroughly damned.”
She pushed the bottle back into his hand and curled his fingers around it. “So drink up. Have your fill. Have more. Hell awaits, darling.”
She resumed her pacing then, albeit at a slower rate than before.
Jack looked at the bottle. Could there be truth in what she said? It was true that he was damned. His father had said as much. But the old man had set him upon this redemption path. And at no point had he said, ‘Also, alcohol is forbidden to you because it is bad and you are a very bad man for drinking it.’
He sipped some scotch. “Whatever, Mona. I think you’re still playing head games. You keep bringing up the girl who died on me. Why? No, don’t answer that. I regret her death. I wish I’d been able to help her. But she was no innocent, either. She chose to use that poison, so ultimately it’s her fault. Just like it’ll be my own fault if I keel over of alcohol poisoning one day.”
Mona smirked. “That’s another talent drunks have--they’re capable of the most astounding feats of rationalization. You keep telling yourself lies, Jack. Soon you’ll--”
The ringing of a cell phone cut her off. Mona went to the bar and snatched up the phone, then put it to her ear. “Yes?”
Jack watched her as she listened to t
he voice on the other end. Her expression went from smug to alarmed to visibly distraught before she finally spoke. “How could that have happened? That’s impossible! You incompetent, worthless piece of shit. Get up here now! And bring those other incompetents with you.”
Screaming as she did it, Mona turned and threw the phone across the room. It sailed through the space formerly occupied by the sliding glass door and disappeared beyond the balcony railing.
Jack knocked back a larger slug of scotch. “Wow. More good news?”
Mona glared at him. “A minor setback.”
Jack couldn’t help laughing. “Fine. The details aren’t important. I can figure out the bigger picture on my own. Your guys are losing, aren’t they?”
Mona opened her mouth to answer, but the ringing of yet another phone stifled her retort. This was an old-fashioned rotary phone on a little table near the fireplace. Mona removed the handset from the cradle and put it to her ear. “The entire squad is with you, correct?”
A moment passed, then: “Good. Get in here.”
She hooked a finger into the rotary dial, gave it a full turn, and returned the phone to its cradle. Jack figured this was her method of buzzing people into the suite, a guess that turned out to be right on the money. A man in a kind of paramilitary uniform entered the room ahead of a column of similarly attired men. With the exception of their leader, the squad wore helmets with visors that obscured their faces. They were all heavily armed. Jack was taken aback by all the weaponry and the revelation that not all of Mona’s underlings were loincloth-clad, horribly scarred behemoths. The leader was a slim, grey-haired man who was maybe in his mid-forties. This man approached Mona and knelt before her with his head bowed.
“Your highness--”
Jack laughed. “Your highness?” He laughed some more and raised the scotch bottle in a mock toast. “All hail the demon queen.”