Okay.
So what the hell was I supposed to call these, um . . . ladies? The trio was known far and wide as Let’s Go Girls! (Exclamation point always included with the title.). But I’m sure you’ll be able to understand my dilemma here. Were they super heroes, or were they super heroines? Clad in those skimpy ensembles—Oh God I couldn’t look! I just couldn’t look!—they called themselves women, but in their mundane roles, these men identified themselves as just that.
Men.
Chaz was the baddie-stomping auburn delight known as Blaze; Stuart, the mahogany brunette, was Ascension, and Sebastian was the brawny Norse maiden and scourge of evil known as Frostbite. And right at that moment they made me squirm uncomfortably in my clothes—and NO, not for the reasons you might think, so don’t you dare go there.
Even Angie took a moment out of her funk to look up at me and wink at my discomfort. When Ascension looked in my direction and marked my red face, she told me, “Don’t worry about it sweetie. We get that kind of reaction a lot.”
I smiled at her but would not allow my eyes to trail down past her neckline. And I knew right away what I was going to call them—whatever they damn well wanted.
Frostbite’s husky voice rang out, drawing my attention back into the moment. “I hope I didn’t hear you talking about the portals to Nox and Phlegethon,” she said in an edgy rumble. “I don’t think I’m up for that kind of ass kicking yet, Eddie. My boots still reek after that last incursion. I’m still finding flecks of hellspawn blood in the soles.”
Edward nodded his head quickly. “The forces of the nether realms are always trying to worm their way in. Especially here in the Playground. But I’m afraid they seem to have some help on this side, Frostbite—right here in our own backyard.”
“I will feed their carcasses to the Valkyries,” Frostbite said. In the space of time it took her to grimace, harsh red lights began flashing from the ceiling high overhead, and blaring klaxons began drumming into my head like acoustic hammers. I saw Edward mouth the words, “Oh damn!” Then he called out loudly enough to be heard over the cacophony, “Matilda!”
Tight-faced men and women scattered across the floor began jogging calmly toward the lifts, but none went toward the doors opening into the sentient elevator. Apparently, they knew better. A vertical shaft of light streaked down through the air not ten feet away from where our group stood, and the shaft rapidly separated, revealing a space between them that had not been there before. The dry fluorescent whites of Matilda’s interior revealed the lift house.
Edward motioned us all to follow him. When we stepped across the threshold of light, I saw that the view screens of Matilda’s roomy interior had all turned opaque. “I was on my way!” she said in a chipper voice completely out of place with the racket pouring through the opening.
“Close that thing!” Edward snapped.
From our side of the dimensional rift, two ordinary metal doors closed smoothly, cutting off the din. Edward asked loudly, “What is happening, Matilda?”
“The entire area is crawling with prowlers, boss. Harpies patrol the skies, and they’re moving in swarms. People are going to die tonight, sir,” she said morosely.
“Not if I can help it,” Edward growled. “Take us to the command room,” he demanded, then, “I’ll need you to drop Let’s Go Girls! where they can do the most good.”
“Yes sir,” Matilda said.
The doors instantly opened into a room dominated by large screens and consoles. Men and women bustled about, doing Very Important Work with the determined expressions of people who were used to that sort of thing.
“Where did they come from?” Edward barked as soon as he stepped into the controlled chaos.
“Still trying to get a fix on everything. Multiple portals from multiple locations,” a young lady said at a console in front of a screen full of radar-like displays.
“Has anything originated from the cloister?” His voice was curt, but even and controlled.
“Yes sir. We’re also getting readings to other dimensions centered there. Openings to Nox and Phlegethon . . . and they’re off the scale,” the lady said. She bit her lips nervously.
I gave the girl a tightlipped smile, but she was already engrossed in what she was doing; her hands moved across the console at her fingertips with dexterity. When her face crinkled up in confusion, Edward frowned and leaned forward for a closer look. “These are coming from your former principality, Mike.”
Mike drew up alongside Hyde and looked down. “So they are,” he said. Then he pointed at three green dots. “What are these?”
“It looks like those are gateways into the nether realms, too,” the girl said. “But I can’t tell which ones.”
I hated to break into the conversation, but I needed to know, “I thought this was, I don’t know . . . like a nether realm or something.”
“The nether realms exist below the Playground. Think of them as sub-cellars, Jack. They’re more fundamental, almost symbolic dimensions. It’s where you find things like the Elder Gods and R’lyeh.”
“And the Phlegethon?” I asked.
Angie cringed at mention of the name. “The River of Fire is the home of demons like true Succubi, Jack. It’s basically a suburb of Hell. If their presence is strong enough in the playground, they’ll be able to completely possess the bodies of all demon hybrids like me.”
I shook my head. “Won’t allow that to happen.”
“No,” Edward cut in, “None of us will. It looks like we finally have proof that the new Abbess is working with the baron north of us.”
“In violation of the Pacts,” Mike said angrily.
“Indeed,” Edward said. “And it would appear that they’re all looking for your little band.”
“Why?” I asked. I still couldn’t imagine why anyone might be after me.
“We’ll fight first and speculate later,” Edward said.
“Fight?” I wheezed. I still smarted from the work the harpy did on me. I wanted to ask if I could sit this one out, but there was no way in hell . . . the Phlegethon . . . wherever . . . that I was going to allow myself to look bad in front of Angie. I managed to recover quickly and gave Edward my best hearty laugh. “Bring ‘em on!”
“No,” Edward said. “You’ll be bait.”