"Advice?" That was hopeful. If I didn't need a diagnosis, it couldn't be all bad. "What is it?"
Adair swept Maddox with a lingering glance.
"The carrier magic has Lucifer's scent. You have no soul. I suggest you try not to die."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
FOR JUST ONE SECOND, time did that fragmenting thing again, and the whole shop transformed into a bleak landscape with a rocky facade and cliffs in the distance. Just beyond him flames rose and fell. The heartbeat rhythm of the clocks became the crackling of a fire.
And I felt like I was falling off the edge of a precipice. When I looked down, my sneakers were right on the edge of a deep drop-off. I grabbed for Maddox to keep from falling and only when his hands steadied me, did I dare look up again.
His face was ashen white beneath the blood stains and bruises.
"Did you see it?" I said. "Did you see the flames?"
He didn't admit it, though I'm sure he experienced the same thing, but with his usual calm, he turned to address Adair.
"Tell us how to fix it," he said.
Adair's eye was fixed on the grimoire. He acted like he thought it would leap up and bite him.
"Find the person who has the ferryman's fare lying in wait for her space." He edged away from the display case, slowly and imperceptibly but most definitely moving away from it.
"And then what?"
Adair dragged his gaze from the grimoire to Maddox's face, avoiding me altogether.
"Then nothing. If the fare is still waiting, your human has a chance. If it isn't..." he lifted a shoulder instead of finishing his thought.
So it seemed I had gone from Isabella to Maddox's human. And why? Because I'd dared put a simple looking grimoire on his display case?
"So you're saying that the man who is in a coma is under the fare's spell, waiting for Isabella?"
Adair swept the top of the case with his elbow, rubbing out some smudge I didn't see.
"I don't know who this comatose man is, but if it's what you say, then yes. But you'd need another ferryman to trap that soul and transfer it where it belongs. But even then, you'd need a sentient ferryman. One who will work with your human and not against its nature. And even then, there's no guarantees."
"What in the hell is a sentient ferryman?" I said, turning to Maddox. This was all getting ridiculous. "Can't we just leave things as they are? I mean, I feel fine."
Adair sent me a withering look. "How you feel is immaterial. In the end, you're doomed. Now get out of my shop and take that vile spell book with you."
He picked up a cane from the corner and shoved at it with the end so that it slid noiselessly toward us.
Maddox plucked the grimoire from the case and passed it to me. I was too stunned by Adair's words to do anything but tuck the book back underneath my arm.
"We have what we need, Isabella," he said. "Let's leave Adair to his shop."
I tagged along behind Maddox as he headed to the door. His hand was on the handle when Adair called after him.
"You owe me, Maddox," he said.
I saw Maddox's jaw clench, but he didn't answer. Instead he pushed open the door and held it for me while I exited. I heard Adair's voice trailing us.
"You know what I want."
Maddox pursed his lips and nodded without turning around.
"You'll get it," he said, loud enough that there was no way Adair hadn't heard, and yet the man called out after us anyway.
"You know what I want."
I wanted to ask him what the Soul Merchant could want but by the time I oriented myself into the street, I realized the breadth of what Adair had said, and it made Maddox's debt immaterial.
"My landlord is in a coma," I said. "Whoever rode the ferryman from hell to get to me is squatting in his body." I shivered as I realized I was going to have to visit the hospital and risk hurting the man even more.
"We need Kerri," Maddox said bustling off before realizing I'd hung behind, trying to process all the information.
He swung on his heel and reached his hand out to me. "Come on, Isabella. We don't have time to waste."
"He said there were no guarantees. He said if it went wrong, I'd end up in hell now, not later." I hugged my elbows. "I can't do that again, Maddox," I said. "I can't go back there."
Lucifer kept what he called ethereal’s in orbs trapped in shelves made of flesh and spidery veins of energy. When I'd been sent to Hell because of a fae general and the debt I owed him, I'd barely escaped. I'd seen what Lucifer did with those souls he kept in his menagerie. He wasn't just sadistic. He was ruthless and depraved.
I'd only escaped his torture because the Morrigan saved me. The risk of ending up back there was more than even my newly sociopathic mind could bear.
I must have looked terrified because Maddox's expression softened, and he halted to lean against the stone wall of the tower. He waved his hands at me.
"Come to me," he said, in a voice reminiscent of warmed oil and syrup. "Come here, Isabella."
When I didn't move, he snagged my elbow and tugged me ever so gently. He enveloped me, with my back to him, and his arms around my waist. Although he must have had to stoop a good deal, he rested his chin on my hair.
"I never told you about my trip to hell," he said. "Maybe it's time I did."
He found a stone bench alongside a long stretch of buildings and sat down, pulling me along with him. His arm was still around my shoulders and he rested his chin on my head again, looking up the alleyway.
I was vaguely aware that going to hell had been part of his ordeals to become whatever it was he was. I'd never wanted to press him, but I'd wondered.
I remained silent, afraid he'd change his mind, and was rewarded with a long sigh that moved my hair.
"It wasn't just immortality they offered me," he whispered, and the breeze that came from the shadows all but carried away his voice. I had to lean tighter against him to catch it all. "In my world, in my time, those who fought demons to keep our world safe were granted what we call long life. The more battles we fought, the more time we earned."
"You wanted to live forever," I said.
I felt his chin rustle my hair back and forth. "No," he said. "I didn't want to pay their price for immortality. I refused them."
"Who?"
"The Senate of wisemen who protected the Lilith Stone. The stone had cracked. They needed more warriors to guard it. I..." he halted here as though he was considering how best to put his next words. "I was good at killing."
I thought of the healing he'd done for me and for the Witchborn, and I wanted to protest that he was good at healing too, but he kept on before I could speak.
"The cost was my celibacy. I wasn't ready to be a virgin forever."
I felt his hand leave my waist and rub against his arm, and I knew he was feeling for the brand that scored his flesh.
"Your ninth world athletes understand the phenomenon," he said. "It's a stronger one in my world. Warriors are better at killing when they channel their energy. I saw strong men die beneath a demon's teeth because they'd lain with a woman—or man—not realizing they'd be called to service again."
I held very still.
"So what made you decide?"
"My brother," he said. "When I refused the offer, he acquiesced in my stead. He'd never been blooded. He'd never even gained one long life, and they let him go. They let him face Lucifer based only on the skills I showed. They presumed such a family penchant for war would be hereditary."
The bitterness in his voice was a thread I clung to. He knew the awfulness of the experience. He'd lived it too. I knew from experience that to travel to Hell and to bond with the stone created the magic that led to his immortality. I'd nearly gained it myself when we'd fought Absalom. I'd always assumed he'd wanted to pay that price. But this was the first time I'd heard he'd not gone willingly.
Or that he had a brother.
"I went to retrieve him," Maddox said. "But only after Doyle prepared to make
the trip himself. I couldn't let my father go. He didn't want to let me. We'd lost too many family members to the stone. In the end, I went."
I thought of the old man who, strong though he was, would be no match for the devil, and I tried to imagine the argument between two alpha males with headstrong hearts. I thought of his comment about losing so many family members and when I wanted to ask about that, he spoke again, taking away the chance.
"I took Doyle's place," he said. "But I didn't win the argument. I stole the trip from him before he could protest. Before he could make the magic work on himself."
"You went without preparation," I whispered and my throat ached at the thought.
I'd not been prepared either. I knew how vile the devil was. I only had to think of a second’s worth of my time there to feel a stone of panic in my stomach.
"I went without anything," he said. Maddox's arms tightened around me, the only real display of his angst as he described the story. "And I failed. I did everything I could to save him, but I failed and it was terrible."
He twirled me around in his arms and I could just make out the glisten of tears on his cheek. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself, I thought.
"I've never considered hiring Adair or purchasing a ferryman to pluck him or anyone else from Hell, Isabella." He held my gaze intently. "Even though I could have. Even though, as you heard, he offered it to me. He was my youngest brother. Do you want to know why?"
I didn't have to even nod. He answered his question anyway.
"Adair's magic never comes cheap. Even his information is costly."
He didn't say anything about what he'd promised Adair as we'd left the shop, but I could hear it in his words. Whatever he'd agreed to was going to pain him. The truth of it sat on his face for a long moment but then he swept it aside.
He cupped his hands around my face and lifted my chin upward. "I swear to you. I won't let you feel the bite of Hell one more time. And if by some awful magic, you ride the ferryman to Lucifer's lair, I will go back to Hell and swap my soul for yours before you can even smell the devil's sweaty armpits."
With that, he swung and pulled me to my feet then guided me toward the street again.
"But this time we have a secret weapon," he said as he crossed the piazza. "And Adair let that part slip."
I watched him pace ahead of me, a peculiar bounce in his step. I had to rush to catch up with him.
"He mentioned a sentient ferryman," I said thoughtfully, guessing that was the slip. "Is there such a thing?"
He grabbed my hand and swung it back and forth like we were schoolchildren.
"No, there isn't," he said. "But there is Kerri, and she is a shapeshifter."
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
KERRI'S CAULDRON WAS what I imagined an old apothecary would look like. It too, was in a tower the same as the Soul Merchant's shop, but it was a long, long walk from Adair's. I felt like I'd fallen asleep on my feet multiple times before we arrived, so when Maddox pulled on the center-affixed iron handle, I was more than ready to fling myself into the nearest chair. Let them hash out the details. I needed sleep.
But the shop itself was too interesting to ignore, and there wasn't a single chair in sight. A chandelier with four elongated gas-type hurricane lamps hung in a wood-slated ceiling. In the glow of early morning, the lights were merely a sizzle of purple, and I suspected what lit them had nothing to do with electricity.
A wrought iron spiral staircase riddled with black and red candles that had dripped onto the treads and made stalactites of the wax.
Baskets of herbs lined the top of a shop-wide medicine chest, filled with vials and clay pots and drawers with elegant penmanship denoting each container.
There was no cash register. No display cases. Just cabinets and books and baskets, and a strange fragrance that seemed to come from the floor because with each step, I got a new waft of aroma as I spun in a circle.
"Where is she?" I said to Maddox who had taken to inspecting a blue vial that appeared empty but for the label on the front that declared it as angel's breath.
"She'll be here."
"What?" I said with a laugh. "Did you entice her with a dick pic?"
"Funny, Isabella," he said. "I see with the loss of your soul, your sense of humor hasn’t improved."
I trod over to the staircase and sank onto the third tread. "The problem is you have no sense of humor." I picked at a bit of wax and ran it between my thumb and finger. It felt oily. I sniffed at it and grimaced.
"You might not want to touch anything," Maddox said, noting me wiping the residue on my jeans.
I looked up at him. "You think I might get in trouble?"
"I think you might get hurt."
I eased more into the middle of the stairs at that. No sense taking any more chances until I got my soul back.
"So, what makes you think she'll come running when she doesn't even know we're here."
He chuckled as he set the blue vial down on the shelf.
"She knows we're here."
"But I didn't see you summon her." I thought of how he'd called to her from his office. "Is there some sort of spell in that vial?" I watched as he tinked the edge of the glass bottle with his nail. It moved an inch on the shelf toward a cluster of similarly colored bottles.
"You don't summon a goddess in her own shop, Kitten. You wait for her to decide you're worth her time."
I took that to mean she'd come out of hiding when she damn well felt like it. I sighed.
"Aren't we on a time crunch?"
Not just that, but I was exhausted. It had been, what? Twenty-four hours since I'd slept? I expected to hallucinate any moment now. Maybe I'd been hallucinating already. The things in Adair's shop had been disconcerting enough to tack it down to lack of sleep.
I leaned back against the tread behind me. Unforgiving as the metal steps were, and ill-fragrant as the candle wax smelled, I felt my eyes closing. I might have sunk down into a little ball and snored for all I knew, because the next I knew Kerri was sitting next to me.
"How long was I asleep?" I said, trying to work the words around a thick, furry tongue.
She placed her arm across my shoulder and squeezed in a comforting way.
"We've been talking your situation over for ten minutes," Maddox said.
I hadn't realized he was standing on the other side of the staircase. I had to peer through the rungs to see him.
"Not long enough then," I said with a tinge of grumpiness. "What did we decide?"
Kerri hung forward between on her legs, elbows on her knees.
"We decided that if I'm going to help you, I need a huge favor in return."
I swung my gaze to hers. Was owing a goddess as bad as owing a fae? I hesitated, and she must have known what was going through my mind. Silver eyes held mine for a long moment before she spoke.
"It's a big ask," she said. "I don't relish visiting Lucifer."
She pulled her arm away and laid it on her lap. I noticed she was holding a purple vial in her other hand, and swapped it back and forth so smoothly the glass didn't seem to leave one palm before nestling into the other.
"I don't relish it either," I said, waiting for the bottle to fall and break. "But Adair says..."
"Don't get too familiar with the Soul Merchant, Isabella," she warned.
I considered the wisdom of using the man's name and retraced my verbal steps.
"The Soul Merchant says if I don't get my soul back, I'll end up there if something fatal befalls me."
I tried to say it the way he had, but I doubted I'd got the words right. Didn't matter. The gist was the same.
I stretched out one leg then the other.
"I really don't want that to happen."
It was an understatement if I ever made one, but I wanted her to know I got the sentiment. That I understood what we were asking of her. I knew there were some truly evil creatures out there, but so far the worst I'd met was Lucifer.
She must have heard the regre
t in my voice because she rose with a sigh. The long black tunic she wore over the top of bare legs and ankle boots, started to shimmer in places as though sunlight was moving over very deep water and the surface was catching it. Her silver gaze got just the slightest of reds within the irises.
"I've never been a ferryman," she said wistfully, and her voice grew husky as she twisted toward Maddox, showing him her spine. "Maddox, would you give me a stroke along the scales and make sure I get it right?"
She winked at me as she said it and I heard Maddox huff.
"You know I hate snakes," he said.
"I don't forget anything," she intoned and then melted down in front of me to a puddle of coiled serpent at my feet.
I recoiled instantly at the sight, cell memory taking control of my muscles. I pulled my feet up onto the stairs and hugged my knees away from the snake. I worried my feet were too close even though she was several feet away.
"I'd say she nailed it, eh?" Maddox said, obviously trying to sound light-hearted but the way he edged away betrayed his own reluctance to be near it.
Kerri uncoiled and stretched toward his boot and he nudged her away. I swear I could see the serpent smile. I stood, giving her a wide berth, and picked up the vial she'd left behind. Eye of Newt, it said.
"I've always wondered what that was." I said, holding the vial up to show Maddox.
"Salamander," he said. "Did you know there's a species in your world so toxic it can kill a full-grown man with just enough coating from its skin to cover a pinhead?"
I shivered at his thoughtful tone.
"I'm not sure I want to know. You don't think that's what's in this bottle, do you?" I put it back down on the step and rubbed my hands on my pants as I scanned the shop for a sink and tap.
Maddox reached out his hand. "It doesn't go there," he said. "The least we can do is keep Kerri's shop neat. She doesn't like it when patrons mess with her stuff."
I wasn't sure I wanted to touch the thing again, but he wasn't taking it upon himself to retrieve the vial. I pulled my sleeves down over my hands and gripped it by the stopper, then passed it to him.
Soul Merchant (Isabella Hush Series Book 5) Page 16