The Fire of Hestia

by Shannon Reber

  Gabe gasped, clutching his stomach like he was about to puke. “He’s in Perdition,” he said, his voice shaky and a little weak.

  Without the slightest hesitation, Aetos stepped forward, offering his hand to help Gabe to his feet. “Come. If you open the door, I will get him out,” he said without the slightest spec of fear in his voice.

  Gabe allowed Aetos to help him up, turning to look at me. “You have a plan on getting into the PSA?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the wall as he worked whatever magic it was that allowed him to open portals.

  I looked at Daw and Dawson, hoping they would come with me. “Can we hitch a ride to the office? I need to pick up a few things before we head in.”

  Daw nodded, telling me silently that he was on my side.

  Dawson blew out a long breath and shrugged.

  It was close enough. I would fill them in on the way and hopefully, we would all come out victorious. Spencer was free. Ian and Erkens needed to be next.

  SIXTEEN

  My ears popped as we stepped from the Axis Mundi into Erkens’ office. It was such a strange thing to be back there. Everything looked just like it had when I’d left.

  The space was more organized than it used to be, though was still cluttered. I had missed the office as much as I missed Erkens. It had become a home to me, a place where I felt safe.

  Twitter sat on the desk, peering at us in what looked like an approving way. His purr was loud enough, it was audible even around the sound of the guys stepping through the gateway.

  “What’d you find?” Daw asked, walking over to the desk to do the bow thing he always did with Twitter.

  The cat jumped down, rubbed Daw’s legs, and sauntered over to rub mine as well.

  I picked him up and walked back to the desk, sitting down in Erkens’ usual place. “Patrick left me a message,” I said, taking my laptop out of the bag to show them what I meant.

  Dawson looked at the message, his eyes narrowed. “Are you sure you’re not just trying to see some kind of code there?” he asked, sitting in one of the chairs across from me.

  Daw shook his head before I could say anything. “She’s right. There was something about Patrick. I didn’t like the guy but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t trying to help us.”

  “There’s more,” I said, filling them in on the rest of the stuff I had found out in the last couple of days.

  Daw’s eyes were so wide, the white was visible all the way around. “Okay, so you really think Patrick Erkens is the guy we met and that he also got down and dirty with an angel?”

  Like the word had summoned him, the moment Daw said ‘angel’, Erramun appeared next to me. “Yes. It is the truth. Luken is the son of Azriel, who has been falsely called a male in most theologies. She is an archangel, responsible to bring death to those our Father chooses.”

  I blinked, startled that he was there. I was also startled by the fact he knew about the nephilim. “Why is Luken in this realm? Shouldn’t he be in heaven or something?” I asked, not sure what to think of the whole situation.

  Erramun gave me a patient smile. “Free will allows humans to do what they choose. Luken chose to live among humans, to exist as his father does.”

  I considered it, my head tipped to the side in confusion. “So you’re saying that because he’s half human, you can’t interfere in his choices. Like the contract with the PSA is a decision he made, so you’re not going to help get him out?”

  He raised his hands in a hold on gesture. “People accuse my Father of not caring for them when bad things happen to them. He gives humans choices, as well as giving them people like you. Luken did make his choice. Because of the choice he made, many lives were saved. And now, you are on the path to saving him.”

  I turned my eyes down in shame. “Erramun, I’m so sorry. I should have thought about what you--”

  “Madison,” he cut in, shaking his head as I glanced at him. “Punishing yourself for a choice you made helps no one. I knew when I warned you that you would not understand. Now, you do understand and you have a chance to fix what you have done.”

  I blinked, startled to realize he’d said something very similar to what Quinn had said to me. Could Quinn have been influenced by Erramun or was it just that Quinn had a similar opinion? I wasn’t sure, yet somehow, his words helped. Erramun was right.

  I needed to stop the PSA. Then hopefully, with Erkens, Ian, Quinn, Spencer, and anyone else who would stand with us, we could deal with the Bhesaj situation. Hopefully.

  What worried me most was that Sam had contacted Bhesaj for me. I didn’t want to think it but it did occur to me. Sam might be in on his plan. If she was, it could mean Gabe was too.

  No. I knew both of them. It wasn’t possible. They were both good people. They wouldn’t do something like that.

  I glanced at Daw and Dawson, surprised that they hadn’t spoken yet. Both of them sat there with no expression on their faces like they hadn’t even noticed the fact Erramun was there. I stared at them, realizing they weren’t moving at all. They were still as death. I whipped my head back to look at Erramun, horrified by even the idea of him hurting them.

  Erramun shook his head. “I am YOUR guardian, not theirs, Madison. I cannot be seen unless I allow them to see me. They are, in essence, daydreaming right now.”

  “But, Ian could see you.”

  He nodded. “Ian Gregory is a medium. Most glamours do not work on those with that sort of power.”

  “Oh,” I said lamely, seeing Twitter eyeing Erramun like he was waiting to be acknowledged.

  He smiled at the cat and made the same gesture Daw always made to him. “I appreciate your permission to speak with Madison,” he said to him, turning back to me before anything more could be said. “You must hurry, Madison. The PSA plays a far larger role in this situation than you are aware of. I have one role to play in your battle. The rest is for you to solve on your own.”

  I opened my mouth to ask him more but all of a sudden, he wasn’t there.

  I found the idea of having a guardian angel a little odd. I believed in God but I wasn’t sure which one was the right one. My mom was a devout atheist, a woman who found a belief in God to be the sign someone was mentally subnormal. My dad was the kind who went to church on Easter and Christmas. The rest of the year, he was pretty much religion-free. I had gone to mass with Ian’s family as a kid, so knew more about Catholicism than any of the other religions. For me, the idea of confession to a priest and praying to saints all weirded me out.

  The fact I had a guardian angel proved that God really did exist. I still didn’t know what to believe, though. There were too many religions and all of them believed they were the only ones who had it right.

  I would have to think about it all later. Right then, what I needed to think about was how to get into the PSA. It was a difficult enough problem without adding anything else.

  “I’m not a hundred percent convinced,” Daw said, apparently thinking Patrick was just another con man.

  I looked back and forth between them, folding my arms as I leaned back in the chair. “I am convinced. No matter who he is or whose side he’s on, we’re not going in blind. No matter what, they probably have guards set up in the restaurant itself. Our wards will hide us from cameras and satellites but not from watchers.”

  Dawson smirked at me and all of a sudden, he wasn’t there anymore. After a few seconds, Daw disappeared as well. “I’m a shapeshifter, Madison. The beauty of being part fae is that if I’m touching you, I can change you too.”

  I gaped at the empty chairs, aware they were there despite the fact I was unable to see a thing. I hadn’t even thought about him being able to camouflage himself. Maybe there was a better way, though.

  SEVENTEEN

  I was not happy. I wasn’t comfortable either. It turned out, being carried over a guy’s shoulder like you see in the movies was a very uncomfortable way to travel.

  It had seemed pretty likely to us that the PSA would have some kind
of security guarding the entrance. We couldn’t all go in invisible. It would look very suspicious for a portal to be opened by no one at all. So we had come up with a plan.

  When Simms had set up surveillance on the restaurant, the guy who’d been assigned to keep an eye on the place had taken pictures of the people who went in and out at regular intervals. I had matched one of those faces with a name I’d found in the PSA’s security staff, so he was the guy we chose. I had also seen the guy around in the last couple of weeks, so I guessed he’d been assigned to watch me.

  I hadn’t paid any attention to him, being too focused on finding Ian to care about anything else. It annoyed me to realize how out of it I had been. What else had I missed?

  The guy’s name was listed as Leslie Flugel. It made me wonder if he was the son of the woman I’d talked to at the Angels of Mercy. I hadn’t had time to look up the guy’s whole life, so we just had to hope his face would get us in without any problems.

  Because people had been told to stay inside because of the demons, we figured it would be easy enough to make it look like Leslie was just coming back in for protection. Bringing me along with him might be a stretch. We hoped it would at least get us in the door without immediately alerting them to the fact we were there to destroy the place.

  Dawson had made himself invisible and since he had to keep his hand on Daw to make him look like Leslie, we were in very close proximity to each other. It added to the discomfort. Daw’s hand on the back of my thigh to hold me in place was not something I would normally be cool with.

  The only reason I let it go was because he was family to me. And it wasn’t like he was getting off on it. We were playing roles and his role was as my captor.

  We stepped through the portal I’d made into a building down the street from the Chinese restaurant and I shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable position. There was no comfortable way to be carried like that, though.

  “Hold still, Madison,” Daw muttered as we stepped out onto the street.

  “No,” Dawson’s voice said from Daw’s other side. “She needs to look as uncomfortable as she is. You wouldn’t just be laying there all peaceful and quiet. Fight him, Madison.”

  I wriggled, annoyed by the indignity of my butt being in the air while the rest of me was pinned behind his back. He wasn’t rough with me at all yet the idea of being at the mercy of someone else was seriously creepy if it was true or not. I allowed myself to think of the guy who held me only as Leslie and just let him have it.

  Okay, so it didn’t do any good. He grabbed my arm as I hit him in the side of the face, his big hands making sure I couldn’t hurt either of us.

  I heard a slight chuckle as we neared the restaurant. “Flugel, your date doesn’t look like she’s into the idea of having dinner with you,” a man’s voice said and a door squeaked open.

  Since we didn’t know what Leslie’s voice sounded like, we’d decided Daw should keep his mouth shut as much as possible. Hopefully, the real Leslie wasn’t a big talker.

  The guy who’d opened the door didn’t seem bothered by Daw’s non-response. He apparently just went back to his job . . . whatever it was.

  I writhed, trying to look like the captive I was supposed to be. I hoped Daw would forgive me as I brought my knee forward into his chest. I also yelled a lot. Yeah. I deserved an Oscar for my performance.

  Unfortunately, though, someone else took hold of the waistband of my jeans and lifted me off Daw’s shoulder. It was one of the most disconcerting things that had ever happened to me. The man was holding me in the air like I was as hefty as the average toddler.

  My eyes bugged when I looked at the guy. He was gigantic like he had some giant blood, if not troll to gauge by his smell. It was a frightening thing to be so small by comparison to a man.

  I ignored the wedgie he was giving me and focused on everything I’d read in Erkens’ books about those creatures. Every civilization had myths about giants. They WERE human, just very large humans.

  I dangled there like an ornament on a Christmas tree, so my options were limited. I didn’t have any weapons on me right then. Dawson had our bags slung over his invisible shoulder, meaning they were hidden from me as well.

  “Put her down,” Daw said in a commanding tone, his eyes fixed on me. “The girl’s going to stay quiet, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes flicking around the dining area.

  I looked around as much as possible and understood why he’d chosen to speak. Several guys stood near us, all of them holding what looked like stun-batons. It was like they had been expecting trouble. Then again, since I had let demons into the world, trouble was coming for all of us.

  Being held in such an undignified position was not something that made my confidence soar. I didn’t answer Daw/Leslie’s question. No matter how bad things got, I was not about to bow down to those people.

  The door opened again and someone stepped into the restaurant from outside. “We need to lock this place down. The cops have started--” he broke off when he saw me being held in the air. “What did I miss?” Patrick asked, looking around at the group assembled there.

  The giant set me down without speaking, his eyes fixed on the wall like he’d lost interest in the whole situation.

  I shifted, doing my best to dislodge my underwear from my crevices in a surreptitious way. We had several plans laid out but none of them had us facing down Patrick, five guards, and a giant. Hopefully, our strategy would work despite that little snag.

  Plan A was foiled when the door opened again, revealing Leslie Flugel in the flesh. Pictures of the guy hadn’t really done him justice, which meant Daw was left looking like a skinnier, washed out version of the man in the door.

  Leslie was a little overweight, with round cheeks, and soft blue eyes. There were some scars around his face, telling the truth of how bad things had been for him as well. The fact he had stuck with Patrick said a lot about their friendship.

  Leslie raised his brows as he saw the double of himself standing in the restaurant, a slight grin coming to his face. “Man, it’s like looking in a funhouse mirror. Not quite right but still kind of me. Sort of,” he said, waving a hand at us in a negligent way. “Let’s get these guys inside and we’ll figure out what to do with them later.”

  I stepped closer to Daw, ignoring the guys with the batons. “It never really occurred to me how many of you there would be. I mean, I’ve seen your employee directory but it never sunk in how big your operation really is.”

  I looked around the dining area, not seeing anyone else. The six men and the giant were the only ones visible. If the family who owned the restaurant was present, they were staying out of sight. Good.

  Patrick narrowed his eyes, clearly understanding that I wasn’t making a random observation. “I don’t think--” he began, breaking off when the music began.

  It was a song the like of which I’d never heard before. The music was like wind in the trees or the trickle of water in a stream. It was calm, though also commanding. The music told the guards to lay down on the floor and go to sleep.

  I watched as those men’s eyes drooped, then with placid expressions, they sank to the floor. It was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. I’d never really understood the amount of power Dawson had.

  When he’d shown us the wooden flute, I don’t think either of us truly expected for him to be able to take out a whole room of guards. I was impressed. I also reminded myself never to piss off Dawson.

  The problem was the giant. He was at least eight feet tall and built like the average brick wall. If he fell, he could destroy the place.

  I darted over, doing my best to guide him away from tables and the other guards. He was such a gigantic figure, it was almost impossible. Or that was true until Daw stepped over to help.

  We managed to get the creature between two tables, his huge feet looking like boulders in the middle of the restaurant. It was an eye-opening experience. If the PSA had a giant guarding the entrance, what else w
ould they have?

  A shiver passed over me at the thought. I did my best to push it all aside. We had secrets of our own. We weren’t helpless. We HAD to stop the PSA. That was all there was to it.

  EIGHTEEN

  Aetos' skin crawled as they stepped through the portal. He had thought he was prepared to enter the land of perdition. He had been wrong.

  It was a place that resembled the underworld in many ways. Fog. Marshes. A few spindly trees. It looked similar to pictures he had seen of the wetlands of Zambia in the human realm.

  The darkness of the sky and the smell of rot was the part that made the place feel haunted. And it was haunted. It was a prison-realm where creatures who preyed on the weak were sent before Hades collected their souls for punishment.

  The idea of Spencer being there was horrifying. Spencer’s ability to exile creatures to this place would make him a target. Aetos knew of many monsters who would tear him limb from limb if they discovered he was there.

  Gabe stepped through the portal behind him and shivered as he looked around. Aetos knew Gabe’s mother had spent time in perdition before her death. He hoped Gabe would be able to focus past his own pain.

  The look of concentration came back to Gabe’s face as he clenched his hands into tight fists. “Spencer doesn’t know where he is but he’s surrounded,” he reported, starting to jog through the marshy land.

  Aetos followed along, pity for the nixer strong in his mind. He was only a boy and had faced so much. Aetos could see strength and determination in the set of the younger man’s shoulders.

  It was a relief to him. With Imogen, Gabe, Madison, and all the others who were Spencer’s friends around, there was hope for him. Spencer was a good man and the people around him were an excellent support system.

  Aetos was sure that as soon as Spencer was found and brought safely back to the human realm, his execution would be carried out by the cerberus. He hoped it would be quick. He feared it would not be. He could hear the squelching of the creature’s feet and the low, rumbling growls that had become more and more regular in the last few hours.