“Hush, someone will hear you. Do you think we did the right thing by letting Bastian go off on his own?” I asked my uncle.
“Possibly. I’ll check into the address he gave us to make sure he’s not up to anything.”
“I just thought it was a bit odd that he didn’t want to stay with us, but I guess it makes sense that he must still have friends in the sept who would take him in. Oh, good, here comes Rene with the car.”
I picked up my small bag, glancing at my cell phone for a moment, willing Drake to call me and tell me he was OK, but no such miracle happened.
“As usual, it’s up to me to make my own miracles,” I said, sighing wearily.
“Uh-oh. That’s bound to end up with me losing another toe or two,” Jim said, backing away from me.
“I said hu—aieeee!”
A short, squat man suddenly burst into being directly in front of us, growling in a voice that had chunks of cement flaking off a wall behind me, “You are summoned.”
Before I could protest, the demon grabbed my arm and yanked me through the hole it had created. Uncle Damian threw himself on me just before I was sucked in, the two of us falling together in a heap on a cold stone floor.
I knelt on my hands and knees for a moment while I fought the horrible sensations that accompanied being yanked through the fabric of being, finally raising my head to see which demon lord had summoned me so summarily.
“I should have guessed,” I said a moment later as Uncle Damian, looking a bit green about the gills, helped me to my feet.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah. You?”
He nodded, glancing around quickly. “We where I think we are?”
“Yes. Welcome to Abaddon. Jim, I summon thee.”
“Fires of Ab—woops.” Jim’s mouth slammed shut as soon as the figure standing at a window turned toward us.
“Aisling Grey,” the man said, looking much as I remembered him. Dark-haired, handsome, with a slight European accent—but it was his eyes that bothered me the most. They were flat, a façade to hide his true thoughts. He raised his eyebrows at Uncle Damian. “And a mortal?”
“This is my Uncle Damian. Uncle, this is Bael, the premier prince of Abaddon, and incidentally the one who tricked me into taking on this position and ending up proscribed.”
“I’m evil,” Bael said with a shrug. “It’s what I do best.”
“Does he always…er…summon you this way?” Uncle Damian asked, watching Bael warily.
“Yes. Annoying, isn’t it?”
Uncle Damian appraised the demon lord and answered in a voice that was rich with warning, “I’m not sure I’d use that word just now.”
“You have much more circumspection than your niece, who has decreed this manner of communication by her repeated dismissal of much more civilized attempts at meeting,” Bael answered, seating himself in a deep, black leather chair. There was nowhere for us to sit, not that I wanted to make myself comfortable for a cozy little chat with the head honcho of Hell. “You cannot blame me, Aisling Grey, if you drive me to taking extreme measures. And speaking of pleasures waiting to be had at your expense, might I ask when I may expect my homage?”
“Er…homage? What homage would that be?”
“Surely you have read the Doctrine by now?” Bael asked, tapping his fingers on a letter opener that appeared to be made of bone.
I wondered if there was ever going to be a time when I wasn’t at least five paces behind everyone else, mentally speaking.
Bael sighed and set down the letter opener, waving a hand that instantly summoned a minion. “Nefere, present Aisling Grey with the Doctrine of Unending Conscious.”
The demon, short, squat, and reeking of evil, rolled over to me with a peculiar gait. I stood my ground, not recoiling from its presence as I wanted to do, instead watching with increasing horror as it bared its yellow teeth at me in a grotesque parody of a smile, then pulled out a penknife and slashed a sizeable chunk of skin off its arm.
“Oh, my god!” I screamed as it slapped the repulsive blob of skin into my hand. My own flesh crawled as I stared at the monstrosity that lay wetly on my fingers. It wasn’t particularly bloody, demons not going in much for blood, but the mere fact that it was someone’s skin made me want to run screaming from the room. “What the hell is this?”
“Doctrine,” the demon answered.
The blob of flesh continued to hold an unhealthy fascination for me. I couldn’t look away from it, just kept staring at it as if I expected it to…what, I had no idea. It was just so terrible, I couldn’t look away from it.
“The Doctrine of Unending Conscious is the set of laws that govern Abaddon,” Bael said in a bored voice. “It is burnt into the flesh of all minions. I would be surprised that any other demon lord had not availed himself of it in order to learn our ways, but your continued flaunting of our traditions no longer surprises me. Read the Doctrine and return to me with the homage.”
“There’s a whole doctrine on it?” I asked, feeling in my pocket for something into which I could place the chunk of skin. I squinted at it, seeing the faintest spidery writing in its wrinkled folds. “I’m going to have to use a microscope to read it!”
“You want bigger piece?” Nefere asked, pulling up its shirt and flicking open its penknife.
“No!” I yelled as it was about to slash off a piece of skin from its stomach. “This is fine. I’ll just use a microscope.”
Bael glanced at his desk calendar. “The new moon is in five days. You have until that time to bring me the sacrifices.”
I considered the last word he spoke with much foreboding. “This homage is going to involve something truly appalling, isn’t it?”
“You are dismissed,” he answered without glancing our way.
I wanted badly to tell him that there was no way I’d ever participate in rituals of Abaddon, but luckily, I didn’t have the chance. Nefere picked me up with one arm and, before I could do so much as yell for help, tossed me out on the front steps of a redbrick house.
“Hey! Be more careful with her! Aisling is—”
“Jim, silence!” I snarled as I got to my feet, rubbing my hip where it had hit one of the stone columns that supported a portico. The last thing I needed was for everyone in Abaddon to know I was pregnant.
“Did he hurt you?” Uncle Damian asked, dusting me off. “Should we go to a hospital?”
“No, I’m fine. I more rebounded off the column than hit the ground.” Behind us, the door slammed. I looked around, not recognizing the area. The house appeared to be isolated on a few acres of landscaped lawn. A crushed-gravel path led down to a wrought-iron gate. “Anyone have any idea where we are? Jim, you can talk, just keep quiet about the baby, OK?”
“Sorry,” it answered, rubbing its head on my hand. “I don’t know where we are, but rumor going around the demonic watercooler said that Bael liked to mingle with the mortal world. This must be his place.”
We walked slowly down the drive, no one else in sight until we reached the gate. A demon stood there, watching us silently until we stopped before it.
“We are leaving. Unlock the gate,” Uncle Damian told it.
The demon sneered, crossing its arms over its sizeable chest. “I don’t take orders from mortals.”
“How about from a prince of Abaddon?” I snapped, too tired to put up with crap from a demon. “Jim, who is this idiot?”
“Kobal. I heard he got dumped onto sentry duty because his master caught him doing time with a supermodel.”
“Better to take a lesser job than to be excommunicated altogether, Effrijim,” it snarled at Jim. “That makes, what, two for you? First from the Court, then from Amaymon’s legions?”
Jim rolled its eyes. “Yeah, right, like being booted out of Abaddon ruined my day.”
“Enough,” I interrupted, a headache starting to build. “Open the damned gates. We want to get out of here.”
The sneer dropped a notch or two, but th
e demon stood impassive, its gaze shifting between us. “You have no authority over me, Lord Aisling.”
I leaned close to it. “No? Your boss told us to leave. You want us to tell him that you were the one who defied his explicit order?”
Kobal had the gate opened before you could say “demonic blackmail.” We stood outside it, glancing up and down a deserted street. There were no other houses to be seen, nothing but pastures and woods on either side, as far as the eye could see.
“I guess we walk,” I sighed, suddenly too tired to even contemplate moving one foot in front of another.
“You sit and call Rene to pick us up,” Uncle Damian said, pointing at a brick planter.
“I’m sure he’d be happy to, but we don’t know where we…oh.”
Uncle Damian held up his cell phone. I used to tease him about his obsession with the latest electronic gadget, but I had to admit that now was a time when it came in handy. “GPS?”
“Yes,” he replied, punching in a few buttons. “We’re not far out of London.”
My butt was numb from sitting on the hard brick planter by the time Rene toodled out from town and tracked us down thanks to the global positioning device. It didn’t take that long to make up my mind, however. By the time we were back home, I’d come to a decision.
“Uh-oh,” Jim said as I marched into the house, throwing my purse on a chair and heading straight for Drake’s office. “Warning, warning! Danger, Will Robinson!”
“What are you going on about?” I heard Uncle Damian ask from the hall.
“She’s got that look on her face. The one that says she’s been watching too many William Holden movies again.”
“I’m mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this any more!” I shouted at no one in particular as the three of them followed after me. “Traci, I summon thee.”
The demon appeared, its arms curled around something that wasn’t there, spinning blithely on one foot until it stumbled to a stop.
“Were you…dancing?” I asked, momentarily distracted by the thought of a dancing demon.
It narrowed its eyes and dropped its arms. “Is there anything in the rules that says I can’t take dance lessons?”
“No, but why…oh, never mind. Here.” I pulled out the handkerchief my uncle had given me earlier and dumped the piece of flesh into Traci’s hand. “Read this, then report back to me on any loopholes you can find to get out of paying some sort of homage to Bael.”
The demon’s eyes widened as it stared at the repulsive bit of flesh, prodding it with the tip of one finger. “Is this…is this the Doctrine?”
“Yes. Bael says I have to pay homage. He mentioned a sacrifice.”
Traci nodded. “Six innocent souls must be paid to the ruling prince.”
“Only six? Lovely.” I snatched up the phone, punched Drake’s cell phone number, listened for a minute as he did not answer, then slammed down the receiver and started out of the room. “Find me a loophole. Put every single demon in my legions onto the problem, but find me a way to get out of it!”
“Where are you going now?” Uncle Damian asked as I ran up the curved stairs to the floor above.
“To bed. If a dream is the only way Drake wants to talk to me, then by god, I’m going to have a dream he’ll never forget!”
12
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
My voice echoed along the long, dark room as I lazily swam into deeper shadows. This dreamscape was familiar—a stone swimming pool filled with warm, scented water that was one of Drake’s favorite places. Columns lined either side of the pool, their shadowy fingers stretching across the surface of the water like inky tendrils. It was impossible to see anything beyond the columns, although I knew that at the far end of the room, a scarlet fainting couch resided. Usually we never made it as far as the couch, Drake preferring to make love in the water, but as I swam slowly down the length of the pool, I searched the shadows for signs of my errant lover.
“I know you’re here, sweetie. I can feel your presence. Are you teasing me with your dragon form?”
I waited for a flash of green scales in the dim light or flicker of a tail in my peripheral vision. Nothing moved but the water. I swam on, briefly admiring the white mosaic of a leaping horse on the bottom of the pool.
“You’re not in the least bit shy, which means you’re teasing me. Normally I’d be up for that, but I’ve had a day from Abaddon—literally—and I could really use the benefit of your oh-so-sexy self. Why don’t you come out here and make mad, passionate dragon love to me, and then we can play hide-and-go-seek in the shadows, hmm?”
There was no answer, no sound from even the darkest depths of the shadows. I paused, treading water as I listened intently. The only sound was of me in the water, and yet I knew Drake was here. I could feel him nearby, feel the heat that always accompanied him, my body reacting to his nearness just as it always did. And yet…something wasn’t right.
I opened the door in my mind that gave me access to my powers, using my improved vision to look deeper into the shadows surrounding me.
A flash of white caught the corner of my eye. I spun around in the water, watching with openmouthed surprise as a white lion padded out from the blackness to the edge of the pool. The animal simply looked at me for a moment before turning around and fading into the darkness.
“Um…OK. Is this some sort of game? Am I supposed to guess the meaning of a white lion?”
A fluttering sound overhead drew my attention to a great bird the size of an eagle that soared over me. It, too, disappeared into the shadows.
“Right. White lion and big eagle. Er…nope. Not getting it.”
Behind me, a low growl rumbled. I twisted around in the water, backpedaling madly as a huge tiger crouched at the edge of the pool, its muscles bunched as if it was about to spring. Before I could back up more than a few feet, it launched itself into the air. I shrieked and instinctively ducked, but the animal simply dissolved into nothing directly over my head.
“Ten out of ten for style, but I’m going to have to seriously dock you for the frustration factor, not to mention just about scaring the crap out of me,” I called out, swimming somewhat shakily to the steps and climbing out of the pool. Before me, one end of the fainting couch lay half-hidden in shadows, a large green cloth draped over one end. It was covered in symbols and what looked to be writing in Hindi, a springing horse in the center bearing some sort of fire on its back. I squinted at it for a moment, then realized it was the same pattern as was on the bottom of the pool. I wrapped the cloth around me, trying to hold on to the tattered edges of my patience. “Enough of the funny animals. When does the sexy, naked dragon show up?”
A man stepped out of the shadows at the far end of the pool, looking around him curiously.
“Gabriel?”
He turned around to face me, confusion written all over his face. “Aisling?”
“What are you doing in my dream?” I asked him, clutching the cloth tighter around myself.
“I don’t know,” he answered, stepping backwards until he disappeared into the shadows. I ran down the length of the pool, but by the time I made it to his end, he was gone.
“I don’t think this is funny, Drake!” I yelled, spinning around helplessly. “I don’t think this is funny at all!”
“Aisling?”
“I’m not laughing!” I bellowed, my voice echoing down the columns.
“No, but you are yelling. Fires of Abaddon, you’re a heavy sleeper.”
I opened my eyes to find Jim peering down at me. “Huh? What? Jim?”
“In glorious Technicolor. You OK? You were yelling in your sleep. And not a good sort of ‘Drake was boinking your brains out’ yell, either.”
I pushed my hair out of my face and sat up. “I was dreaming. There was no boinking, not that that is any of your business. What…what the heck?”
A small green cloth was clutched in my hand. I spread it out on the bed, staring at it. It w
as a smaller version of the one I’d had wrapped around myself in the dream. “Where did this come from?”
“Tibet, from the looks of it. You may want to get up and get dressed.”
“Tibet?” I said, looking closer at the cloth.
“Yeah, it’s a prayer flag, isn’t it? What they call a wind horse?”
I traced the figure of the horse in the center of the cloth, noticing with a prickle of gooseflesh that drawn in each corner were four animal symbols—a dragon, lion, tiger, and bird. “What on earth?”
“Ash, I really think you need to get up and get dressed. Traci said we were going to be summoned at three, and it’s five after already.”
“Oh, god. This is going to be another one of those days where people start talking about stuff like I know what’s going on, only I really don’t, and I spend the whole time trying to catch up, isn’t it?” I asked, pointing a finger at Jim.
“Yup,” it answered cheerfully.
I thought of pinning the demon down with questions, but if experience had taught me anything, it was not to question when Jim said to get dressed. I gathered up a bundle of clothing and retired to the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later to find Jim, Traci, and my uncle standing together in my bedroom.
“If you tell me you know what’s going on while I’m in the dark, I may well scream,” I told Uncle Damian.
“How can you not know what’s going on?” he asked, frowning.
I gritted my teeth and fought back the scream, turning instead to the steward. “What’s happening?”
The little rat had the nerve to look smug. “It is time for the challenge for the position of Venediger,” it answered.
“Ah,” I said, enlightenment dawning. “And I am supposed to watch you duke it out with the contender? OK. You guys could have chosen a better time, but I suppose it’s petty to quibble about a little lack of sleep.”
Traci looked at Jim. Jim looked at Uncle Damian. Uncle Damian frowned even harder.
“What?” I asked, a horrible presentiment stealing over me with an icy chill. “Oh, dear god. You can’t possibly mean…no.”