She stared openmouthed at the couples who swarmed the room.
Mysterious figures of men and women with grotesque but oddly fascinating masks dotted every square foot of space. Some costumes resembled the same creatures carved into the double doors. Angela recognized the scales of snakes, the sharp teeth of the Hounds, and perhaps more menacingly, horse masks dominated by ribbed horns with tips glistening sharply in the half-light. Every dancer wore phosphorescent paint around the bare circles of their eyes. Most of the couples had paused to stare at Angela, inquiring about her presence with piercing expressions rather than words.
The silence continued. Angela had heard the doors lock behind her. Ringing the room, at least ten other sets of doors beckoned.
An inscription in demonic writing decorated an arch above the nearest doors. The more Angela focused on the writing, the more it transformed into letters she could easily read.
Within this room temptation lies. Beware the drinks, beware the eyes.
She glanced in panic at the inscription above the other door to her left.
Trapped in dreams, one easily sins. Now the unwanted trial begins.
Angela’s trembling hand crept toward her left arm glove. The Grail burned so badly a scream also burned in her throat. But she didn’t dare make a sound. Angela bit her lip hard. It bled and soured the inside of her mouth. She gazed out into the crowd of people—more likely demons—and waited for someone else to speak or move.
Without warning, one of the spectators broke away from his partner and strolled toward Angela. He was dressed exquisitely in black silk with purple lace at the sleeves. He peered at Angela through a mask that resembled the head of a stag complete with lethal-looking antlers. “And who are you?” he asked with surprising politeness.
One of the women regarded Angela with venomous eyes while intermittently sipping at a glass.
What’s the use of lying? If this is part of the labyrinth, they already know who I am.
“Angela Mathers,” she said firmly, bracing herself for an attack.
His eyes widened in surprise. Speedily, he knelt before Angela and clasped her hand before she could snatch it away. “The Archon,” he whispered reverently. “Our ruler.”
“Your ruler?” Angela said. Fire shot through her body. Hairs prickled on the back of her neck.
The woman sipping at the glass approached with studied elegance. Up close she was disturbingly tall with unbelievably green eyes. “Our sovereign who will overthrow Lucifel.”
She knelt down in something resembling a curtsy.
Angela’s world spun. The other women hastily copied the first, their wave of curtsies rippling outward. Some of the demons unfurled wings that were little more than bloodied bones and stringy muscle. Others obviously had none left to unfurl, and some were luckier, with ratty wings in shades of black or blond. Angela sniffed and frowned at the acidic taint in the air. It must have been the same acidic fog that Troy had said destroyed the demons’ sensitive wings over time.
The demon in the stag mask held Angela’s hand high. “This is the one who will sit on the Throne of Lucifel. This is the new Prince of Hell.”
Angela looked around awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. The entire scenario was so odd and incredible. It all felt like a terrible dream.
Too many demons filled the room for Angela to fight them one-on-one. There had to be another way out of this. Python had mentioned opportunities of some kind.
Though he’d more likely been referring to Angela’s role as Lucifel’s rival.
Why did he really lead me here? There had to be a way around this place, despite what he said . . .
Certainly his crazy talk about “seeing the truth” had something to do with it. But what did that even mean?
Angela thought of the inscriptions above the door concerning temptation, and shivered. Her mouth had dried to the consistency of cotton, and her stomach bubbled painfully whenever she glanced at the drinks on either side of the room.
“Who will dance with our new sovereign?” the male demon said, presenting Angela once more to the crowd.
There were many murmurs, and then a tumult of shouting. Many of the demons glanced at one another. Finally, another male with an emerald mask stepped toward Angela. “I will dance,” he said, stretching his hand toward her demandingly.
“I OBJECT,” a feminine voice echoed powerfully across the room.
Frigid sweat blossomed on Angela’s forehead. Her heart raced and galloped like mad.
Now the dancers of all descriptions parted in waves, revealing a woman who sat on an obsidian throne at the other side of the room. She was taller than the other female demons and wore a simple mask glittering with purple and green gems. Feathers with red tips crowned her cascading waves of black hair. She slid from the throne, revealing an alien-looking yet beautiful dress with a high collar that sloped dangerously low from her shoulders. Her skin was strikingly dark.
“I object,” she continued, “on the grounds that I myself have already chosen her partner in this gracious dance.”
She spread her arms out to Angela.
“Welcome, Archon, to this festival, which is but one of my many celebrations day and night. But who has delivered you to my secret corner of Hell? Or have you come to us by your own power?” She smiled at Angela, though her honey-colored eyes held a familiar coldness. “No answer? Then I suppose a black bird dropped you here by chance on the way back to his nest in Babylon.” She laughed softly and nodded at a tall but shadowed figure standing behind her throne. He stiffened but said nothing.
“Who—who are you?” Angela finally said. Unbelieveably, her words were carried from demon to demon, all the way to the woman speaking to her.
The woman smiled ingratiatingly. “I am Lilith, my dear. Though I have many other names . . .”
Lilith! Python’s mother? Why would Python bring Angela to her of all people? He said they weren’t working together—that he hated her. Did Lilith know what was going on?
No wonder Python hadn’t been able to openly enter this room with Angela.
Angela tried to swallow the nervous ball in her throat. She clenched her hands.
“In any case,” Lilith continued, “I’d been looking forward to your arrival. It is sooner than I’d expected, but perhaps things are not going well for you on Earth. No small wonder, considering the great danger that threatens the Realms. But as it is, you’ve arrived at an opportune and rather appropriate time.” She looked to the demons arrayed near Angela. “This place is hidden from demons who are not my servants and friends. It is a privileged place of revelry and idle delights. A place where reality reflects dreams.” She stared intently at Angela. “And dreams reflect desires. Archon, let this be a taste for you of the pleasures to come if you choose to rule over us in Lucifel’s stead. You don’t need to worry. Rely on my support.” Lilith lips spread into a beautiful and terrifying smile. “One hundred percent.”
Lilith waved a hand, and the female demons to either side of her drew away into the shadows.
The tall man who’d been standing behind her stepped into the flickering light beneath a brazier. His skin was pale, an even more striking contrast to Lilith’s dark beauty.
He wore a mask resembling a crow’s face with a pointed beak, and his beautiful black coat had been decorated with ebony feathers at the shoulders.
“Here is your partner, Archon,” Lilith said. “Enjoy your time among us. Forget the terrors of the world for a while. Here—time passes differently.”
Lilith laughed, and the dancers closed around her again, making her vanish as if she’d never existed. Meanwhile, the man with the crow mask advanced on Angela until he was steps away from her. Slowly, he knelt down before her and then he stood with his hand outstretched. His amber eyes peered at her with a burning and wordless plea.
Angela considered her options, which weren’t very good.
Sophia—I’m coming for you.
With a deep breath, she slid h
er hand into his.
They danced interminably. Angela knew better than to touch any of the drinks to either side of her, but she often glanced at them with longing.
Her partner was very skilled and very graceful. He was also completely silent. Angela tried to peer beyond the confines of his mask and came away with the vague impression of a handsome face with sculpted cheekbones and a slim nose. The costume and the bad lighting kept her from taking in better details.
It couldn’t be just a coincidence that Angela was once again at a masquerade ball. Her mouth set into a tight line. Camdon must have been inspired by whatever demon controlled this labyrinth to send her that midnight blue dress. Lilith spoke of Angela’s desires being reflected here, and now that she had a moment to think, it struck her hard: Why had Angela really gone to the ball in Luz? It wasn’t like her to give in so easily to peer pressure, even if she felt guilty about something.
Maybe I’m just trying to be normal. It’s what I’ve always wanted, after all.
The elegant music paused.
Angela watched as most of the other demons clapped and laughed. On the surface they appeared to be legitimately happy, but their faces and eyes remained cold. The fountain of red water also disturbed her, and Angela tried not to look at it too much. She was about to let go of her partner, fascinated by a row of crystal flasks filled with liquid as red as the fountain’s water.
He held her hand tightly, pulling her back. “Angela,” he said softly, “don’t you recognize me?”
She recognized his voice. Angela stared at him, frozen yet again.
He smiled and lowered his crow mask. It was Kim, as strikingly handsome as in the days when she’d first met him in Luz. That sculpted face, and those thin lips—Angela gasped as every detail came flooding back. His black hair was longer now, and the red streak dyed into his bangs had started to grow out. But he was a far cry from the vision Angela had of him entering the door to Hell. There he’d been a complete wreck. Right now, he was clean and certain of himself, as elegant as a prince.
Angela understood his choice of costume as a grim irony. The crow was the symbol of his cousin Troy’s Jinn Clan.
“I’d been hoping you would recognize me before I needed to take off the mask,” Kim said quietly. He stared at her with the intense and searing eyes of her memories.
“You’re not dead,” Angela whispered. Despite her relief, she didn’t have it in herself to smile.
“Not yet,” Kim said grimly. “But if Troy has her way, it’s only a matter of time.” He regarded Angela darkly. “Have you seen her at all?”
Angela nodded slowly, unable to stop staring at him.
Kim’s breathing quickened, and his face paled more, but he kept calm otherwise. “Is she in Hell?”
Somehow, it didn’t feel right to answer that question just yet. “Where have you been all this time?” Angela said instead, aware of a pathetic pain creeping into her voice.
He motioned to her to continue dancing. As she slid into his arms again, his warm whispers touched her ear. “After the battle with Lucifel in Memorial Park, you fainted. Israfel rescued you and left shortly after. That left me alone with Troy. I was sure she was dead. I was also wrong. She attacked me, and I was forced to use a blood crystal to try and escape. But”—his tone lowered—“the unstable portals kept me from traveling far enough. I was forced back to Earth. As soon as Troy realized this, she started hunting me with double the ferocity. I gave her trouble, but she almost caught up to me when I managed to escape into Hell. I was desperate, Angela. I had no choice. I needed to see you again, even if there was only the smallest chance of that happening.”
His story matched Troy’s version of events. But Troy had also said Kim was firmly on the side of the demons.
Angela closed her eyes, unwillingly remembering kisses in the dark as Kim whispered in her ear. Her heart ached. It was tired. She was tired. Angela fought the urge to collapse against him.
“The authorities in Luz are suspicious of you anyway, Kim. You can’t go back. The Vatican police will arrest you now. Maybe worse.”
Kim laughed. “They were suspicious of me from the start. Despite what I told you, I’m not really a novice, Angela. I had the knowledge of one. But I’m no priest. Only a pretender. But I forged the proper document and fit in with them well enough to learn what I needed over the years. Indeed, by now I know much more.”
“But you are Troy’s cousin,” Angela reiterated.
Kim made a sound of disgust. “That is unfortunately true. Everything else is the truth, Angela.”
“Even your name?”
Kim sighed. He held her closer. “Yes, I do owe you that at least . . . My mother didn’t exactly love me as a mother should. I had an older sister who died shortly before I was born. My mother gave me her name, bitterly wishing I was someone else even from the first day of my existence. There—now you know . . . and I’m sure you of all people can understand.”
Angela thought of her own name, how the mother who hated her had given it out of misplaced guilt, all because an angel in her dreams had leaned over Angela’s cradle.
Angela relaxed a little. “And how about what you felt for me?” she said softly. “Was that the truth . . .”
“I hated you at first,” he whispered. “Because you rejected me. Then, I realized we are alike. I can’t leave you alone with feathered wolves. I want to be by your side. Angela, you said you would never sit on Lucifel’s Throne. But remember, it might be your destiny. There might be no way to fight it anymore, and I want to be by your side when—”
“That’s not why I’m here,” Angela snapped. She pulled away from Kim.
He stared at her, smiling bitterly. “No, of course not.”
“Sophia was abducted, Kim. And I’m here to find her and take her back.”
Kim shook his head. “It’s exactly like you to think there isn’t more to all of this. Have you thought about why she was abducted?”
“Because Lucifel is insane,” Angela hissed, suddenly irritated.
Kim gripped her arms so hard it hurt. “Or to get the both of you exactly where she wants you—helpless. Babylon is a web of intrigue, Angela. Remember, not every demon shares Lucifel’s ideals. But some of them do. Take one wrong step, and you’ll plummet off the cliff.”
“I’ve done that plenty of times and survived,” Angela said petulantly. She ripped her arm away from Kim. “But now I know how to keep myself from falling in the first place. What are you doing here, Kim? The same demon that guided me through the labyrinth so far said that he was keeping you here, just for me. But I walk into this craziness to find that Lilith thinks you’re her prize to give. I want to know what this is all about, and what you have to do with it. Whose side are you on?”
“Yours,” Kim said, his face utterly serious. “Lilith is protecting me right now, Angela. She offered to spare my life in exchange for getting you into Hell. I’m the black bird she believes dropped you at her doorstep. What she doesn’t know is that Python, the son that hates her, is the one who slipped me into her nest. She thinks I’m a devoted human worshipper, nothing more. She’s a powerful ally, Angela, but a dangerous enemy with no desire to see Hell’s regime turn upside down. She doesn’t want you on Lucifel’s Throne any more than Lucifel does. This celebration is a trap.”
Angela’s blood ran cold. “Then why would Python bring me here if he knew that?”
Kim’s gaze hardened. “Hatred is a powerful instigator of chaos. Think of it as a slap to his mother’s face.”
That sounds right, and yet . . .
Angela remembered Python’s words about seeing the truth. Something told her Kim knew nothing about that little detail.
“I’m flattered by his confidence in me,” she said sarcastically, trying to hide her growing anxiety. She glanced at the smiling faces around her. “Are they going to try to kill me? Right now?”
Now those smiles seemed so fake. Her pulse raced like mad.
“Soon enough
,” Kim whispered. His hand on hers shook. “The idea is to tempt you with the glamour of being their new ruler. To get you drunk with time and a sense of power. To make you forget why you are here in the first place. My job was to make sure of that, while in exchange Lilith would protect me from Troy. But I won’t do it, even if Troy rips me to shreds.” Kim touched her blood-red hair. “I’m going against so many things for you. The least you could do is thank me.”
“What other kinds of things?” Angela said softly. There was a gentleness to Kim’s gaze that frightened her as much as the demons in the room.
“My adoptive father’s, for one,” Kim said. “Do you remember that night you asked me about my cross necklace, and I told you my father gave it to me. I didn’t mean the Jinn father that I killed. I was talking about the other one.”
Angela blinked at him. Heat and pain scorched through her all at once. “You’re like Stephanie . . .”
Kim shook his head. “I felt sorry for Stephanie when we first met. She and I shared a similar history. So my adoptive father encouraged our association. If Stephanie had been the Archon, I was given the order to kill her and eradicate the threat to Lucifel’s position. Maybe—considering the kind of person she was—I would have. But I couldn’t do the same to you. You’d done nothing to deserve the burden on your shoulders.”
He said that, yet demons didn’t seem like the type to adopt out of pure charity.
Hadn’t Python said there was always something more behind everything?
So why had Kim’s demon foster father adopted him—of all people—as a son? What could Kim do that no one else could?
“It haunts me,” Kim said. His warm lips kissed the edge of Angela’s ear. “Who are you, Angela Mathers?” Kim’s face, usually so distant and cold, softened with real longing. “I need to know. You are not Raziel reincarnated. You’re someone else. I think that is the real key you need to search for. It’s the secret that Sophia has shut away within herself. It is the cause of Raziel’s mysterious death. It might be the salvation of everything.”
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