Blood Redemption (Angel's Edge #3) (19 page)

I gaped at him. What had happened to my mad guardian who raged and yelled and dragged me around by the scruff of the neck? This creature before me was… rational. And sad. And beautiful.

I was terrified he was going to kiss me, forever changing what was between us. I stepped wildly backward and caught my heel on a stone, falling flat on my butt with a thump.

I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know this creature, soulful and serious, in front of me. I wanted my familiar Fallen angel back, to storm and scream and terrify. This time, when he offered me his hand, I didn’t take it.

His face fell, the disappointment in his downcast eyes so keen it made me hate myself.

“You’ll do it, then?” I asked, desperate to change the subject. “You’ll help me get him back?”

“Yes, Caspia Chastain.” He sighed, a hint of steel creeping back into his eyes. “We’ll do it together.”

got to my feet with as much dignity as I could manage. I couldn’t bear to make eye contact with Asheroth when I did it; the look on his face when I’d refused his hand had cut me to the core. Why did he have to go and get all sane on me now, I fumed. Especially now, with a war on the way, when we were going to need all the madness and fury we could scrounge up.

I dusted my hands off on my borrowed jeans. The wind rustled my hair and moved the trees of Huntingdon Forest gently back and forth. The graves surrounding us were very old; some of the headstones were crumbling in places. Worn down by the elements, I had trouble making out the letters on some. Standing here, a deep and profound sense of serenity enveloped me for the first time in what seemed like ages. I wanted to sink down among the graves and let all our current troubles pass me by. Why was it, I wondered, that I only felt peace when I was surrounded by so much death?

I didn’t have time to wonder for long, though. Asheroth stood staring at my great-grandmother’s grave, his red leather jacket almost the same hue as some of the larger petals of the roses that curled across the headstone. His head was bowed and his hands were curled into fists. The only thing that kept him from looking exactly like a statue was the fact that his black hair moved in the wind, just as mine had.

“Asheroth?” I said uncertainly. I hated to disturb him, but I saw no other choice. He had agreed to help me get Jack back, and that meant we needed to figure out a way into the Twilight Kingdom.

When he swiveled his head to look at me, I automatically took a step backward. Dark emotions swirled in the depths of his crystalline eyes, and for a moment, he resembled the old mad Asheroth I had loved and feared.

Then he seemed to recognize me, and his expression lightened. “Yes,” he said, drawing out the “s” into one long sibilant hiss. “We do have business to attend. It’s so easy to forget, being here.” He cast a regretful look at the grave. “Sometimes I think I could stand here for years.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I wasn’t a hundred percent certain what I was apologizing for. There was so much: being descended from the woman he had once loved, so that every time he looked at me he saw an echo of her; forcing him to perform a rescue mission to the Dark Realms to save a boy he didn’t like for rejecting what appeared to be a heartfelt offer of affection.

But he merely shrugged my apology off. “No matter,” he said, making an effort to smile at me. The expression looked alien and strange on him. “You are certain this boy is necessary to our efforts?”

“I’ll be nothing but a nervous wreck of Shadows without him,” I said. “Together, we can actually
do
something. We have power. That’s why Belial tried so hard to take me.”

He nodded absently. “All right,” he said, squaring his shoulders. “Then we should go now. Time passes differently there; he would have just lost you, by his reckoning. I doubt he’ll be expecting us to try anything so soon.”

I had forgotten that weeks here were mere days there. “Now?” I repeated. “Like, right now? Don’t we need to come up with a plan of attack? And don’t we need reinforcements?” The only way I wanted to return to the Twilight Kingdom was with a small army and a lot of firepower. But Asheroth was having none of it.

“Just the two of us,” he said with a shake of his head. “That way, hopefully, we can slip in and out without him noticing us. A larger force would be… counterproductive.”

“Just exactly how do you propose we do that?” I asked. “It took a small army to get me there in the first place.”

Asheroth looked amused. “No, Caspia. The small army was for the rest of us, to keep us too occupied to come to your aid. It only took one person to open the portal that actually took you there.” His smile was smug. “And it only takes one person to open a return portal there.”

I didn’t bother asking him to clarify. Of course he meant himself. I hated portals under the best of circumstances, but the thought of using one to return to such a terrible place made my knees weak.

And there was the small fact that Ethan was going to kill me. He already hated that Jack and I shared a common bond. He was going to go ballistic if I snuck off with Asheroth to return to the Dark Realms without him.

“Can we do that without getting caught?” I asked. “Won’t there be alarms or something? Won’t he figure out we’re there?”

Asheroth paced in a small circle between headstones. “I’m counting on us being able to move quickly.” His expression darkened. “And if you and this Jack of yours really can do what you say you can, then we’ll have a way to fight if we must. Of course, I can always take Belial on myself if necessary.”

I remembered the first time Asheroth had tried to fight Belial. It was obvious the demon was stronger. I wondered if he would be even more powerful in his own territory. I didn’t want to find out. We would have to get to Jack as quickly as possible to avoid Belial altogether.

“Okay,” I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. “Just how exactly do we do this?”

“The Dark Realms are an almost infinite space,” he said, continuing with his pacing. “It is possible to wander there for lifetimes.” His face darkened. “Some poor souls do.”

“So how do we find our way back?”

“Not all parts of the Dark Realms are the same. Some of the stronger demons take over parts that suit them, and set up their own territories. This is what Belial has done with his Twilight Kingdom. There will be a kind of signature over the place, unique only to him. Since we are… acquainted… I should be able to take us to the general area of his stronghold.” He grimaced. “Since we must move quickly, it will be important to pinpoint an exact location to find your Jack.”

I wanted to protest that he wasn’t “my” Jack, but Asheroth was acting lucid, and I didn’t want to derail him. “So how do we do that?”

“Can you focus on a particular spot where your Jack might be? You must be able to visualize it almost perfectly, Caspia. If you can do that, I can do the rest.”

I nodded, considering. “All the Nephilim are kept in one area. My bedroom was right next door to Jack’s,” I said, remembering. “I think I can visualize it pretty well. And it will get us close to him. Unless, of course, he’s been summoned elsewhere.” I remembered the way Belial had punched him in the stomach in the audience room. I spared a minute to hope that Jack would be safe in his bedroom when we showed up.

Asheroth looked grim. “Let us hope that is not the case.” He reached out and lifted my chin until my gaze was level with his stern face. “Caspia, you must promise me something.”

I nodded, unable to look away from his brightly burning eyes.

“You must swear that if I tell you to leave, you will do so, no questions asked. No matter what happens, you will do as I say.”

“Okay,” I agreed softly, hoping I hadn’t just made a promise I couldn’t keep.

Satisfied, he dropped his hand to capture my own. We stood like that, holding hands and facing each other as the wind picked up around us. “Now picture this room,” he urged me. “Picture it down to the last detail as best you can.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. My mind began to paint a picture, broad strokes at first like the general color scheme and rough outline of the larger pieces of furniture. Then I began to fill in the details. I envisioned the exact color and texture of the bedspread, and the grain of the wood that made up the four-poster bed. I saw the carvings on the wardrobe and the cut glass on the double doors that led out to the balcony. I traced the patterns on the thick rug that covered the rough-hewn stone floor. I remembered how the low light cast long shadows across the room. As I thought of all these things, I felt the familiar cold dizziness of a portal opening. Asheroth’s hands tightened on mine, and my stomach dropped down to my knees as we traded the warmth and fresh air of the graveyard for the damp, cool environment of the Twilight Kingdom.

This time I couldn’t blame the urge to vomit on the joys of portal travel. As I opened my eyes to the dim, dank space, I knew we had returned to scene of my worst nightmares. We stood in the middle of the room I had so meticulously constructed from memory. I tried to feel relief that our plan had worked, but instead a tightly coiled sensation sense of panic grew and swelled. My heart raced as I struggled for breath.

“Caspia, we must hurry,” Asheroth snapped.

I dragged my gaze up from the stone floor and almost choked with surprise. He stood before me in all his Fallen angelic glory, his full dark abyss-wings spread out behind him.

He saw me staring and made an impatient sound. “I can draw on the power of the Dark Realms through them, and we need every advantage we can get. Now quickly―where is the boy?”

I tried to gather my courage. “He came to me by jumping from his balcony to mine.” I indicated the heavy double doors. “Belial locked me in, and it was the only way.”

Asheroth nodded and strode to the balcony doors. When he flung them wide, I was treated to a glimpse of the familiar twilight sky. I resisted when Asheroth pulled me behind him, but it did no good. My Fallen angel whirled about.

“We have no time,” he growled, and the familiar notes of madness sparked in his eyes again. Here was the Asheroth I knew at last with wings like black holes and clothes the color of old blood, backlit by a stomach-twisting horizon. He pulled me all the way outside until we both stood on the small balcony, hundreds of feet above the barren ground. Other small balconies jutted off into space, a seemingly impossible distance from my own. “Which one?” he asked impatiently.