“So basically your counterpart and these dark Romanis did what, exactly? Gave the poor bastards over to the Devil?” That seemed a little judgmental, given Dane’s history. There was definitely more to the story.
“More or less. They certainly set some family members on a different path, and when Maloney’s cousin many times removed met his end, lo and behold, Apollyon didn’t keep his word. Someone in the tribe called for my services. I refused.” Dane sighed. “Why are so many decisions from my past entwined with your future?”
“You’ve gotten your hands dirty working for the Devil before. Even given him a soul or two, if I recall.” I’d never been great at tiptoeing around a subject, so I decided to just call him out on it.
“My sister was one of Maloney’s cousin’s customers.” Dane leaned back against the wall, fists clenched at his sides as he recalled the memory of his sister’s fall from grace.
“So she found her way into his den of iniquity but never made it back out. And when his family called, you denied them because you blamed him for the loss of your sister.” My voice softened to a whisper. This was the first I’d heard of his sister. Dane’s life was as filled with tragedy as mine. It might have stung less if most of it hadn’t been of our own making.
“The Romani never forget, and apparently they never forgive. I’m surprised he didn’t curse me on the spot.”
“He might have. I think I saw him mutter something and spit in your general direction before I shut the door.” I moved in, closing the distance between us, and rested my head on his shoulder.
“I think he was just cursing at me.” He unfolded his arms, wrapping them around me, his hands resting just above the back pockets of my jeans.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” I whispered, laying the lightest of kisses on his neck.
“Me too. It’s been so long, I didn’t expect such a strong reaction. From Maloney or myself.” Dane’s hands trailed up my sides, but instead of leading us into temptation right in the halls of the Basilica, he pushed me back enough to place a chaste kiss on my lips. “Enough history. Come on, the crypt isn’t going to search itself.”
“Crypt? Beneath Baltimore?”
Dane was already leading the way again, down the hallway and toward a door on the right. I’d never heard of the catacombs beneath the church. But then, I didn’t have a religious upbringing and most of my time in recent years had been spent trying to get into church not under it.
“Ready?”
“You ask me that every time. My answer’s always the same.” I nudged Dane forward and we quietly descended the marble stairs leading to the crypt entrance.
The stairway opened onto another grand foyer. In the center of the wall opposite us was the entrance to the cemetery beneath the church. Just like the church, the crypt was open to the public whether you worshiped at the Basilica or not. The wrought iron gate hung open, and sconces lit the way for visitors to trek underground. But it was my tattoo and new position that gained me entrance to the church and its underbelly, not their open-door policy.
Drawn to the city of the dead, I took point and led us down into the crypt. Well-maintained, the brick and stonework appeared to be in pristine condition. Renovations must have been done sometime in the last decade or so. Small lights had been embedded in the bricks along the walls and arched ceiling. It looked more like a maze than a catacomb, until you saw the shrines nestled in alcoves along the walkways, or the chapel with its small altar and wooden chairs in four neat rows.
We kept going, stopping only for a moment to admire the burial places of the eight Archbishops of Baltimore, two of whom had been transferred to a newer crypt and had since been interred in marble vaults. But it was the original burial place of the two archbishops that interested us. We waited until the last of a group of tourists walked by, then climbed over the inverted arches and entered the original part of the crypt.
“You know they cut out Marechel’s heart? They keep it in a school because he was so fond of academics.” Dane doled out unusual historical facts about the archbishops and the church as we searched for even the smallest hint that a portal had been opened beneath America’s first cathedral.
“That’s not morbid or anything.”
“Preserving someone’s physical remains keeps a connection between them and the living world.” Dane felt around the crumbling tomb. This portion of the crypt was supposed to be off limits to visitors and hadn’t been maintained as well.
“That sounds more in line with Ancient Egyptians than it does Catholicism. Hey, look at this.” I’d found a small opening just behind the second tomb.
“Yeah, well, religion is full of rituals. Some are adopted and some are original. What did you find?” Dane leaned in, trying to get a look over my shoulder.
“I think I can crawl through.”
“That’s pretty narrow.” Dane voiced my own concerns in that simple statement. He might not fit.
Unwilling to let the prospect of getting wedged into a small passageway stop him, he took off his messenger bag and handed it to me. There was no leaving it behind – we’d need the supplies inside if there was a portal at the end of this tunnel.
“I don’t think this is original to the crypt. Someone dug this out recently.” Loose rock and stone bit into my knees as I crawled along the passage, which tapered the further along we went. “Dane.”
“I know, keep going. I’m right behind you.” He grunted, his shoulders scraping the sides as he followed me deeper into the tunnel.
We’d already crawled a fair way into the passage and hadn’t found the end. The light from the entrance had faded, and I wasn’t willing to go any further without some sort of light. Dane collided head-first with my ass when I stopped to dig through my bag for a flashlight, knocking us both flat against the tunnel floor.
“Next time you want to take a breather, let me know.”
“Sorry. I was checking for a flashlight.” Finding the next best thing, I dug out the two glowsticks in the bottom of my bag. Cracking them first, I tossed the sticks. The green glow illuminated the tunnel for a moment before disappearing. The return of the soft light confirmed my suspicions. “It drops off up ahead. We’re at the end of the tunnel.”
Shimmying the rest of the way out of the tunnel, we navigated our way through another rough-hewn passage. Although this one was tall enough for me to stand, Dane had to hunch over or risk hitting his head on the jagged ceiling.
“Hear that?” Dane picked up the glowsticks, turning in a semi-circle to illuminate some of the passage and find our next route. “Is that water?”
“If it is, then we’re near a sewage line or a drain line.”
“Let’s hope it’s the latter. Come on – there’s only one way to go, and that’s forward.” Dane squeezed past me to take point, leading the way out of the tunnels and into the city’s waterworks.
“Shit!” Startled, I jumped, then shook my right foot to free it of the rat that had crawled onto it.
“You hunt demons but you’re scared of a sewer rat?” Dane laughed but kept moving in the direction of the exit.
“Laugh all you want, Sin Eater. Are you familiar with R.O.U.S.?”
“Are you seriously quoting The Princess Bride at me right now?”
“So you’ve heard of rodents of unusual size, then. They were inspired by Baltimore wharf rats. What just crawled onto my foot was a baby. I heard some old lady accidentally took one home – thought it was a stray dog until her vet told her it was a rat.”
“Urban legend.” Still chuckling, Dane dropped off the edge of the tunnel. “It’s a drain line.”
He sounded overly relieved. If I had a problem with rats, Dane apparently had a real problem trekking through sewage. Not that I would have been all that thrilled with it either.
“Hold up a sec. Do you feel that?” I ran my hands along the rocky wall, trying to find the source of the magic I felt. “There.” Power radiated from the side of the tunnel, not quite darkness, but
something. A low hum just barely strong enough for me to feel.
“What is it?” Dane had already climbed back up into the tunnel and was holding a waning glowstick up to the wall to examine it.
“This doesn’t feel like the others.” Pressing both hands against the energy source, I focused on the resonance, hoping to gain some kind of clue as to what it was. “It’s not a portal.”
“Well it’s definitely not normal.” Dane let out a frustrated grunt. “What are you doing? That’s a terrible idea. I really wish you wouldn’t do shit like that.” Reaching out to stop me, he caught hold of my shoulder, but it was too late. I’d already pressed an ear to the wall. “Jax?”
For a moment everything slipped away. No more than the sum of all the particles that made up my body, I was weightless. And then it felt like my insides were being sucked through the Earth and my whole being slammed back together. Just in time to feel the dry, searing heat of Purgatory.
I gasped, the air burning my throat and lungs. In the distance I thought I heard Dane calling my name, but couldn’t see him. The blistering winds and flying debris made vision almost impossible. Memories of what had happened the last time I was there reared up, threatening to take me deeper into the despair that was almost as suffocating as the heat.
Walking right into the hands of Apollyon. The beating and mental assault at the hands of the Devil. Dane laying on the ground with a spear in his side. A spear meant for me. Thomas, my golden angel, consuming centuries worth of sin to clear Dane’s soul and keep me from utterly destroying mine and allowing the Devil to win in the process. I tried to fight the thoughts back, to force them from my mind, but I was failing, falling further into the memories of my time in Purgatory.
A hand brushed against my jaw, cupping my cheek. My name fell from his lips on a whisper. A whimper escaped my lips, and I flinched, fear that it was Apollyon overtaking my ability to recognize his voice. When he said my name the second time, I realized who it was.
Thomas.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, leaving streaks in the dust coating my skin. I couldn’t stop the deluge of emotions that welled up upon seeing him again. He’d given up everything for me, and all I’d been able to give him in return was an eternity in this God-forsaken place. Halfway to Hell and a lifetime away from Heaven.
There was so much I wanted to say, but the words eluded me, so I stood there gaping at his new form like an idiot. The once fair-haired angel born of light was a physical manifestation of the sins he’d eaten. For Dane. I’d done this to him. The tears flowed more freely, something I wouldn’t have thought possible. I already felt dried out, physically and emotionally, from the short time I’d been there, but still they fell.
“Don’t weep for me, Jacqueline. I can’t bear the thought of it.” Thomas pulled me close, wrapping his raven wings around me.
I felt his breath on my hair, his lips on my forehead, gentle kisses before he ripped me away from the safety of his arms, shoving me back toward the thin veil I’d slipped through in the tunnel wall.
“They know you’re here. Close it. Close the portal.”
I felt it too; a presence just beyond my sight. Lurking, watching, waiting. But for what? Every nerve ending in my body screamed danger – my internal demon alarm was in overdrive. I didn’t care. Thomas was there, right in front of me, and I desperately wanted to talk to him.
Before I could argue, plead to stay with him another minute, apologize for what I’d done to him, I was falling back through the portal. Reality slammed back into place hard enough to rattle my teeth and bones upon impact. Dane’s arms wrapped around me, in much the same way Thomas’s wings had a moment ago. He whispered something about not doing that again and how stupid I’d been, but it was hard to center myself back in this reality as his lips fell on the same spot my angel’s had in Purgatory. I managed to mutter something about closing the portal before Dane released me and really took in my appearance.
“Purgatory?” Something in my hollowed-out expression must have given it away. “Did you see him?” Dane gently wiped away what was left of my tears, smudging the dirt on my face even more.
“We need to close it. If I can slip through, something else can slip out.” I dug in my bag for the can of spray paint I carried for just such an occasion, and began the ritual of closing the portal. Moving mindlessly, I wrote the symbols in angelic script that would seal the portal forever. The routine had become second nature and gave me an opportunity to clear my mind before talking to Dane about what had happened.
Chapter Four
We followed the drainage line, trudging in ankle-deep storm runoff for what seemed like six or seven city blocks. If my calculations were correct, that would put us somewhere around South Washington Place under one of the four parks surrounding the Washington Monument.
Dane waited until after he’d helped boost me up to pry a manhole cover loose, and we climbed through to relative safety – if you call popping up on a city street in heavy traffic safe – before asking me what had happened in Purgatory. We dashed hand-in-hand to the sidewalk, avoiding the construction cones and orange barrels that cordoned off a road work area.
“So, you ready to tell me what happened back there?” Gently tugging my hand, Dane pulled me close enough to wrap his arm around my waist.
We walked that way for two blocks, practically joined at the hip, before we needed to make room for other pedestrians to pass and I was finally able to answer.
“This portal, it was different. It was a low hum of power, not like the others. You didn’t feel it?” It wasn’t really a question I needed him to answer. He hadn’t felt it because he wasn’t as in-tune with the portals as I was. “Whoever tipped Tobias off, I’m assuming one of the Principles, knew it was a way in and out of Purgatory.”
“It still needed to be closed, Jax.” Dane offered the only reassurance that he could. Logic.
“I know. Didn’t make it any easier. They should have told me.” Sliding my hand back into his, I entwined our fingers together. A small reassurance for him. We were about to broach the topic of Thomas.
“Would you have done it if you’d known?” Dane knew what it had cost me, what it had cost Thomas when he’d saved his life.
“Yes.” The word stuck in my throat, straining my voice as I held back a sob. Seeing Thomas had ripped open the wound in my heart that losing him had caused.
Dane didn’t say anything else, just raised my hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across my knuckles. He knew I had feelings for Thomas, that he meant something to me, but he’d never questioned them. Never worried if there would be enough room for him if I still carried a piece of Thomas with me. It was one of the reasons being with Dane was so easy.
“Who could you possibly be calling?” Dane cast a sideways glance at me, trying to see who I’d pulled up in my contacts list as we navigated our way back to our apartment.
“Charm City Cabs.”
“Seriously? No one calls cabs anymore.” He just shook his head.
“We’re at least a mile and a half from the car. We can’t really go walking around the city looking like this. We could always take the bus back to the car. I still have my pass.” I pulled my bag around to dig for the bus pass I was sure hadn’t expired.
“We’re not getting in a cab, an Uber or on a bus. You’re right; we look like we just blew up a building. Part of Baltimore is still burning and half the cops in the city are looking for an arsonist.” Dane let go of my hand and walked over to a vendor selling hot dogs and drinks. After buying two waters and avoiding questions about why we were covered in dirt in the middle of the city, he handed me one of the plastic bottles and pulled out his phone.
“You think it’s safer to walk?” I took a swig of the water and then another, not having realized how thirsty I was until the first ice-cold drop hit my tongue.
Baltimore wasn’t huge when compared to places like Chicago or L.A., but I would have much rather taken a form of transportation with whee
ls from Mt. Vernon to Bolton Hill.
“Zipcar app.” Chuckling, he turned his phone so I could see the screen. “There’s one available about a block from here.”
“Hey, I walk or take the bus everywhere I need to go. I don’t have some fancy app with access to cars parked all over the city. You really have a Zipcar account?” Impressed, I polished off the rest of my water and waited for him to arrange our transportation.
“I have a platinum account. Comes in handy in my line of work. And done. Let’s go.” He tossed his empty bottle in the trash can. “We’ll come back for our car tomorrow.”
“Can’t really argue with that logic.”
As a Sin Eater, Dane would have traveled the country, probably the world. It wasn’t like he could take a car with him everywhere he went. Modern technology and the conveniences that came with it must have made his job a lot easier. My mind wandered as we walked the last block to the car he’d rented. Questions that I’d never asked about Dane and his life before me swirled in my mind. Old insecurities and fears tried to take root, but I squashed them as Dane confirmed with the rental company and the car was remotely unlocked. There’d be time to wonder about what else Dane had acquired in the course of his work later. I had enough to do.
Namely, tracking down and killing Lazarus.
Chapter Five
Back at the apartment, the first order of business was a shower. No plans to invade Hell could be made until I had scrubbed off the dirt and grime from crawling around in Baltimore’s underbelly. Dane and I decided to do our part for the environment by conserving water and taking a shower together. Once every inch of my body had been cleaned to his satisfaction – the man is nothing if not thorough – we got down to a different kind of business.
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