Dark Descent - [Nyx Fortuna 02] (15 page)

“You’re not ready to bargain? Pity.”

“A crossroads bargain? I don’t think so, Hecate.”

“I’d give you the same deal I gave Robert Johnson,” she said.

“Didn’t turn out so well for him, now did it?” Legend was the blues guitarist Robert Johnson had traded his soul for success. Fame and fortune alluded him, but I’d seen him play once, and he had a magical touch with a guitar.

She smiled grimly. “If you don’t give me back my daughter, I will slaughter anyone you’ve ever loved. Including the mortal, who thinks she’s hidden herself away from the affairs of the Houses.”

I tried to suppress the rage I felt when she threatened Elizabeth, but she chuckled when she saw how it lit my eyes.

“Wren is happy where she is,” I said. “Why can’t you understand that?”

“She does not belong in the mortal realm,” Hecate said. “She belongs with me.”

“No dice,” I said.

Her catlike eyes gleamed.

“What do you want? Besides Wren?”

“I want you to bring me the bead,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Now who’s lying?” she replied.

The back-and-forth was growing old. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you the bead, but Wren stays with me.”

“How can you keep us apart?” Hecate said. “My daughter loves me.”

“I’m not giving her to you.” The fear in Wren’s eyes hadn’t convinced me, but the scars on her body had.

“I will get my daughter back, with or without you,” she replied. “You don’t want me as an enemy.”

“You’d never honor your side of the bargain and you’d never let Wren leave ever again. She’d be a prisoner.” Why did Hecate have one of my mother’s charms in the first place? Had Wren’s escape been planned?

“Is that your final word?”

“It is.” Before she could react, I wheeled and started running back for my side of the gate. Over my shoulder, I chanted the spell Talbot had used on the dogs previously, but it didn’t work. They were gaining on me. I reached the gate and rammed the key into the lock, but the dogs were already upon me.

The largest of the dog bit into my leg and then shook me like I was a chew toy. Pain ripped through me. Before I passed out from the loss of blood and sheer agony, I used a concealment spell.

The dog, startled, yelped and released the grip on my leg. I yanked open the gate, trailing blood. The dogs realized their prey was still within reach and snapped at my hand as I pulled the gate shut in their faces.

I ran through the tunnels, expecting the vicious beasts to catch up to me, but I made it topside without being turned into kibble. Once I’d made it out, I stopped to look at my leg and then wished I hadn’t. I hated the smell and sight of blood. I could barely stand to look at it, especially when it was my own fluid exiting my body all too rapidly.

The dog had bitten through the jeans I wore, shredding them and several layers of my skin in the process. The leg looked remarkably like ground sausage, and I fought back the nausea rising in my throat.

Fortunately, the tunnels leading to the underworld were cold, and I’d worn my leather jacket, which had several healing amulets sewn into it. I got my hands on one and attempted a spell but had to stop to bend over and throw up. Shivering from loss of blood, I was woozy and couldn’t remember where I’d left the Caddy.

Finally, I located it, but even with the healing charms, I was getting weaker. I dropped my keys and swore. When I bent down to retrieve them, I fell down and couldn’t get back up. That’s where Talbot found me.

“Hell and Hades, Nyx,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going back down there?” He scooped up my keys while I lay there. I heard the sound of the Caddy door opening and then Talbot returned. He lifted and half dragged me, half carried me to the passenger seat, then slid in behind the wheel and headed for home.

I recuperated at home for a few days. I was a bad patient, even with amulets speeding up the healing process. I spent my time brooding on the couch, with my leg propped up on a pile of pillows.

“It’s going to leave a nasty scar,” Wren said.

“If you haven’t noticed, I already have plenty of those,” I said.

She handed me a fresh glass of absinthe. Unlike everyone else around me, Wren didn’t seem to mind when I drank.

She sat next to me and then slid her hand inside my shirt and found the ridged scar near my heart. “How did this one happen?”

I removed her hand as the memory of the day I’d met Elizabeth surfaced. “Someone tried to kill me. He missed.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t be killed,” Wren replied.

“I can’t,” I said. “But he didn’t know that.”

“Why can’t you be killed?” she asked.

It wasn’t exactly a secret, so I told her the truth.

“And you think it was a coincidence that you found the charms after you came to Minneapolis?”

“You think it isn’t?” I replied. “It’s not like I found all of them.”

“Is it true your aunts love intrigue?”

“More than they love breathing.” I couldn’t get my head around the possibility that I hadn’t found my mother’s charms on my own. Had the Fates had a hand in it after all? I put a hand to the silver chain I always wore and rattled the charms there.

“Do you have all the charms?” Wren asked casually.

“No,” I replied. “I’m still looking for a miniature book, an ivory wheel of fortune, and a horseshoe made of moonstones.”

She coiled a finger around the silver chain around my neck. “Maybe you were just lucky to stumble across them after all that time.”

I was the son of Lady Fortuna, but I was starting to doubt that even I was that lucky.

She lifted my tee and placed a soft kiss on the scar, which led to longer, more intimate kisses.

It was a little awkward, making love on the couch with my leg propped up, but we managed. Later, she curled next to me.

“Do you still want to die?”

I laughed and wrapped my arms around her. “Not after that.”

She leaned away and stared at me with her golden eyes. “I’m serious.”

“Sometimes,” I admitted. “Sometimes, I still want to die. But not all the time. Not anymore.”

I wanted to stay like that for the rest of the afternoon, but Wren had other ideas. “I’m going to do a load of laundry.”

She wriggled out of my arms and went into the bedroom. I eased back into my sweats, which were the only clothing I could tolerate near my leg wound, and then dozed off.

When I woke up, Wren stood in the middle of the room holding the lighter. “What is this?” she asked. “It reeks of smoke.”

It was the lighter I’d taken from the fire during Elizabeth’s performance. “Let me see that.”

She handed it to me. I used my T-shirt to try to clean the blackened silver lighter, but nothing came off. I finally tried a spell.
Aperio!
It revealed the lighter was engraved with the inscription,
“To D. Passion is a flame—H.”
H? My father had more pseudonyms than I did. In the book Doc had returned, he had been Dr. A. M. Green.

I was holding the lighter of the person who’d set the fire in the theater, the person who had scarred Elizabeth’s face. I had suspected Deci since her little pyromania incident at Claire’s apartment, but I’d had the proof all along.

I hobbled around trying to find my keys.

“Nyx, you should rest.”

“I’m going to talk to my aunts,” I said.

“I’ll get Talbot,” she said and ran next door.

Talbot reluctantly chauffeured me and parked the Caddy at Parsi Enterprises. “Wait here,” I said.

Talbot protested, “Nyx, whatever you’re planning, I think you should wait until you cool down.”

“Not gonna happen,” I said. The uneasy détente with my aunts was over.

I limped into the building, not bothering to see if he’d follow.

The security guard in the lobby took one look at me and picked up the phone. I muttered an
encanto
, and it flew out of his hand.

I found all three of my aunts in the conference room. I’d interrupted a business meeting. Trevor had been pouring sodas into little paper cups for some sort of a taste test. He scurried out the door as soon as he saw me.

“You evil hags,” I roared. “Deci, I wish I’d let Gaston murder you in your sleep. Why did you do it?”

Morta and Nona seemed to be honestly surprised to see me, but it took Deci a second to conceal a smirk.

“Sharpening your scissors, Morta?” I asked. “Instead of worrying about me, you should worry about your own sister.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said calmly. “Why don’t you stop shouting and have a seat?”

“Ask Deci, she knows.”

“Nyx, you’re upset, but the fire was an unfortunate accident, nothing more,” Deci said.

I gave her a cold look. “I never said anything about the fire.”

“I assumed that would be upsetting to you, especially since your girlfriend left town shortly thereafter.”

“You’re lying,” I said. “You threatened me and then my ex-girlfriend ended up in the hospital. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. I knew you’d murder without a second thought, but I didn’t think you’d put your own niece at risk.”

“Naomi?” Nona said at the same time that Morta said, “Claire?”

“Naomi was there when the fire started,” I said. “You’d know that if you ever took your face out of the bottle.”

“You’re one to talk,” Morta snarled.

Nona turned a sickly green and I quickly added, “It could have been Naomi in that hospital bed, thanks to your pyromaniac of a sister.”

I advanced toward Deci, but Morta stepped in front of her. “Careful, son of Fortuna.”

Nobody said anything for a minute.

I took a step back. “You’d protect her, after all that?”

“Why do you think Deci is responsible?” Morta asked.

“I don’t think she did it,” I said. “I
know
she did.”

“How?” Nona asked. “She can barely walk.”

“She forgot something,” I said. “Her lighter.”

“Deci?” Nona turned to her sister with a stricken expression. “What is he talking about?”

“Right here.” I tossed the lighter on the conference table and it skittered across its smooth surface and landed in Nona’s lap. “Look familiar? I’m told there are only three of them. One that belonged to my mother, one belonged to my father, whoever he is, and the other one is Deci’s. I found it at the theater fire but didn’t realize what I had: proof that Deci set the fire.”

“He stole it,” Deci accused.

I snorted. I’d bet that even her two sisters would have a hard time with that one, and I was right.

The second Deci realized she’d fucked up, it showed on her face. “Shut up, son of Fortuna, or I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Hurt someone I love?” I said. “You really need to find a new way to threaten me.”

Nona flicked open the lighter and started the flame. Deci’s eyes were drawn to the flame. She couldn’t look away.

“See something you like, Deci?” I asked.

She finally looked away to glare at me. “You’re soft,” she hissed. “Like she was.”

I took a step toward her. “She was a better person than you could ever be.”

“You didn’t know her as well as you think you did,” Deci replied. “That makes you soft
and
stupid.”

I lunged for her, but the sound of Nona’s voice stopped me.

“Nyx, leave us,” Nona said. “We have things to discuss.”

“You’re going to let her get away with lying to you both? Putting Naomi in danger?”

“It is not your concern, Nyx,” Morta said. It was the first time she’d called me by my chosen name. “Leave now.”

“I’m leaving,” I said. “But think about this. What else has she done behind your back? How many other fires did she start?”

Morta remained stony-faced, but Nona’s face twitched. Something about my last statement got to her. I could tell they knew Deci was a bit of a pyromaniac. The question was: Who else had my aunt tried to burn alive?

It was barely dawn when my cell phone rang.

I held it to my ear groggily. “Nyx, you need to get down here,” a voice ordered.

“Who is this?”

“Baxter, you wonk. Get to the morgue.”

“There’s been another murder?” I asked in a hushed tone. In her sleep, Wren snuggled closer to me.

“You could say that,” he said. “I’m up to my tits in exploded nymphs. Get your ass down here.” I realized he’d hung up and put the phone down.

Wren stirred beside me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I’ve got to go out for a while. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She nodded sleepily before sinking back into dreamland.

“Where are they?” I asked Baxter when I finally made it to his basement.

He gestured to a couple of commercial-grade buckets in the corner. “Right there.” There was blood up to his elbows.

“Jesus, Baxter,” I said. “How can you eat at a time like this?”

He looked offended. “I didn’t touch them. They came in like that. The blood is from the autopsy.”

I gulped. The smell of blood mingled with the heavy odor of dark magic, dank and coppery. “How many?”

He shrugged. “Three. Maybe four. It’s hard to tell. A mortal beat cop found them before anyone from the Houses could take care of them.”

“Exactly how long have the Houses been taking care of stuff like this?”

“As long as I can remember,” he said. “And that’s a very long time. They don’t want the mortals to realize we’re living among them.”

“Some mortals know,” I said, thinking of Elizabeth and Alex.

“Some,” he agreed. “But not many. And it’s not like the Houses want to advertise that there’s a magical killer loose.”

“But he’s not killing mortals,” I said. “You said you’ve lived a long time. You’ve never seen anything like it?”

“Once,” he said. “Only once.” His eyes lost their focus and a shudder went over him. “When Hecate was still free.”

“What was it like then?”

“It rained blood,” he said. “Your aunts did us all a favor when they trapped her. I hope she rots in hell.”

“How did they do it? Trap her?” I asked.

“It wasn’t in the company newsletter,” he snarked. I glared at him, and he added, “They took away her power somehow. She’s been trying to get topside again ever since.”

“What will happen if she does?”

“She’ll make the Dark Ages look like a picnic in the park,” he replied.

How could Sawyer have slept with someone like that?

Danvers was waiting for me outside my apartment door when I got home. I had a giddy feeling in my chest. I was certain I knew why he was there. Willow had taken my advice and made a run for it. The idea made me smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?” I asked. Maybe I had a bit of a smirk on my face, but it was just a tiny one. Hardly noticeable.

His bodyguard didn’t wait for his boss to answer. Conversation ceased entirely when his big, meaty paw wrapped around my throat and squeezed the smile from my face.

“Where is she?” Danvers asked, like he was asking me the time of day.

Lurch stopped squeezing long enough for me to suck in a breath and wheeze out an “I don’t know.”

It was true, but I wouldn’t tell him even if I did.

The apartment door opposite us opened and Ambrose stuck his head out. “Is there a problem?”

Danvers bowed to him and Lurch let go of me. I dropped to the floor and gasped, trying to get air back into my tortured lungs again.

Ambrose was not a man most people messed with, and the necromancer apparently realized that even with his great hulk of a bodyguard, he was outgunned.

“Mr. Danvers, I really must protest,” Ambrose continued, all affability. “I cannot allow you to mishandle my employee in such a way.”

Danvers’s eyes narrowed. “Your employee?”

“Yes,” Ambrose replied blandly. “Nyx works for me. And as such, under the protection of the House of Zeus. He is also a member of the House of Fate and under his aunts’ protection.”

It hurt too much to raise an eyebrow at the last part, but I thought about it.

Danvers bowed. “I understand,” he said. “But I was told he might have something of mine.”

“I don’t have anything of yours,” I said.

He gave me a thin smile. “I hope you are telling me the truth. Or you will regret it.”

He jerked his head at the bodyguard and then they took the stairs without looking back.

“The curse. It was you,” I called out.

He turned leisurely and faced me with an oily smile. “It scared you, didn’t it? It made you realize you didn’t want to die after all.”

It was true, but I wasn’t going to give him any satisfaction by admitting it. He was practically admitting he’d sent the wraiths to my apartment, but there’d been a brief flicker of some emotion in his eyes. Was it surprise or satisfaction?

“But you are quite ingenious,” he continued. “That’s when I knew you were my son.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m related to you.”

“I could be your daddy,” he said. “I bet they didn’t tell you that part, did they? I’m one of the oldest necromancers around. I knew your mother intimately.” He smacked his lips.

“You’re lying.” The thought of the sick old letch touching my mother made the bile rise in my throat.

He seemed delighted with my repulsion. What a dick.

“It’s been real,” I said. “But it’s time for you to go.”

The truth was my father could have been anybody. My mother never talked about him, wouldn’t tell me his name even when I’d asked.

He seemed to be composing himself before he took another step and then disappeared around the corner.

It was pretty obvious that Willow’s husband had it out for me. But why would he have wanted to kill me even before he’d married her? Before he’d even met me?

I had some questions for my aunts. I wasn’t sure they would answer them, but it was worth a shot. They’d always danced around my father’s identity before, but I had a feeling they knew more than they were telling me. It could wait, though.

Ambrose shoved me into his apartment and then closed the door and locked it. “Nyx, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

I avoided his gaze. “I have no idea.”

“Guess,” Ambrose replied through gritted teeth.

“Runaway bride. Pissed-off necromancer would be my guess.”

I sat at the kitchen counter while he poured me a glass of something strong. “Drink this.”

“It smells vile,” I said.

“It’s a curse cure,” he said. “Remember that little curse thing?”

“I have had a few other things on my plate,” I said. My throat was swelling from Lurch’s roughhousing, but I chugged the concoction anyway. It tasted as nasty as it smelled.

“Something more than that is going on,” he said. “But I haven’t been able to figure out what.”

“You mean besides Willow marrying that creep to prevent more naiads from dying?” Baxter had told me Trey’s niece was the sacrificial lamb, but Ambrose’s expression confirmed it.

I got up. “Thanks for the drink.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to find Willow before Danvers does,” I said.

I figured she’d head for home, so I pointed the Caddy to the lake where we’d first met.

Willow’s lake. She needed me and I needed to know she was safe.

The bench felt hard and cold, despite the spring weather. Pristine blue water was unmoving and silent. Even the tadpoles were hiding.

“Damn it, Willow! Where are you?” I said. The sound of my voice carried over the water, but there was no response. I waited, but all was still. I finally gave up and stood. A ladybug landed on my shoulder.

I extended a finger to set the bug in flight when I saw her through the tangled moonflower vines, like a mermaid from a fairy tale, wobbly on new legs, waiting for her prince. But it was no fairy tale and there was no prince.

“Willow?” When I got closer, I could see the blood trickling out of the corner of her mouth, her eye already turning black.

A pattern of bruises marred her upper arms, chest, and legs. She couldn’t stop shivering. Her wedding night hadn’t been a pleasant one.

“I’ll kill him,” I said. I took off my jacket and wrapped it around her.

She whimpered. “You can’t.” Then, more strongly, “You won’t.”

I was upsetting her. She didn’t have to know what I had planned for that bastard. “You’re cold,” I said. “Let me warm you up.”

There was a vicious-looking bite mark on her neck. “Your moonstone,” I said. “It’s gone.”

She shook her head and slowly unclenched her fist. Her fingers unfurled and then I saw her fingernails were grimy with dried blood. The gemstone was imbedded into the palm of her hand. She’d fought back, then.

“Did he…” I started and then stopped, not sure how to say it.

She finally met my eyes. “The marriage was not consummated.”

“We need to get out of here,” I said.

“He’s already been here looking for me,” Willow said. “I hid.”

“Good.” I picked her up and carried her to the Caddy. I placed her gently in the front passenger seat and then went to the trunk for the blanket I kept there. I’d learned quickly to be prepared for Minnesota weather. It was spring, but my idea of spring was slightly different from a Minnesota native’s.

I wrapped the blanket around her and started the car, turning the heater on full blast to warm her up. “Where to?” I asked. “One of the other lakes?”

She shook her head. “It’s not safe,” she said. “The other naiads will just send me back.” She didn’t sound bitter that her own colony wouldn’t protect her.

“What about someone in the House of Poseidon?”

“There’s no one,” she said. “No one but you.”

“He’s been to my apartment, too,” I said. “But I know a place no one will find us.”

I’d take her to the Dead House. I’d killed a troll there. In fact, he was still there, his stone image guarding the entrance.

The place hadn’t changed a bit. A boarded-up window hung loosely, and I put her down gently.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. I slithered through the window and then went around and opened the back door. I carried her in and put the blanket on top of the bedroll that had been there before.

The décor was early graffiti and beer bottles, but nobody would look for us there. “Home sweet home,” I muttered.

I ripped the last of the healing amulets out of my jacket and used them to try to heal her, but it wasn’t enough.

“You need a doctor,” I said. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, but she heard that.

“No, please,” she said. “He’ll find me.”

“I know someone who can help,” I said. “You can trust him.” That is, if I could find him.

She was sweating and blood was still oozing from her injuries, but the spell had sent her into a healing sleep.

“I won’t be gone long,” I said to her sleeping form. I kissed her hair gently before I left.

I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find Doc. I called Talbot, who gave me the address of the shelter where Doc sometimes stayed, but the doors were closed for the night.

I didn’t want to leave Willow alone for too long, so I finally gave up the search. I stopped by a drugstore and bought some first-aid supplies before I headed back to the Dead House.

When I crawled through the window, Willow was gasping and her blue skin had turned an unhealthy purplish color, but she was awake.

“How long since you’ve been in the water?” I asked her. I’d found her in the shallows, but a naiad needed water like we needed air.

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

There was an old trough standing in the middle of what used to be an autopsy chamber. I didn’t want to think about what used to be in it. I scared away the spiders and then chanted a spell to get it to fill with water. I placed Willow in it gently.

She seemed a little better, but not enough. She was fading in and out again. I was starting to panic, but then I remembered we were in Minneapolis. There had to be a lake or river within spitting distance. I gathered up her wet, slippery form and ran, then told myself to calm down.

I did a locater spell and then followed the trail of light until we came to a lake. I unceremoniously dumped her into the water and then she slowly sank out of sight.

I waited for a long time. Was I too late? Was Willow at the bottom of the lake? Finally, there was a splash and her head broke the surface. She swam to the edge and treaded water as she watched me.

“Thank you, son of Fortuna,” she said gravely. “You saved my life.”

“I should have thought of it sooner,” I said angrily. “I almost killed you.”

She splashed me and then giggled at the surprise on my face. “You saved me,” she repeated. “I’d almost forgotten I was a naiad. I’d become a puppet.”

Interesting choice of words. “We should get out of here,” I said. “He’ll probably have people looking for you at the lakes and rivers.”

We spent another day and night at the Dead House. I didn’t think about Wren, who was probably waiting for me at my apartment. I didn’t think about Elizabeth. I didn’t think about anyone except Willow.