“Here, I think this will do,” he said eventually. “You can use it up to four times, though that’ll depend on the battery size.”
Mentally crossing my fingers, I gave him the prepaid Visa card I carried in case of emergencies. Without Shannon’s cool head, we’d be really bad off right now. I didn’t have a bank account, and I’d changed dollars to pesos as I needed it from the briefcase Escobar had given me. In Mexico, it was easy to live that way. Nobody blinked if you paid your bills in person and with cash. In fact, most people did.
He ran it with no questions asked. “Do you need a receipt?”
“No, it’s fine. Do you know of a good hotel or a bed-and-breakfast nearby?”
The young man offered a sympathetic smile. “Had a run of bad luck, eh?”
“You could say that.” His kindness, after everything we’d been through made it harder to keep my composure. Maybe it had something to do with how battered I looked; men wanted to save women, even when it wasn’t possible.
He thought for a moment, then named a place. “My cousin stays there sometimes when he comes to town.”
“Thank you.” I took the charger. “Would you mind jotting down the address?”
“I’ll do better than that. I won’t send you over to Amhurst Park unless they’ve rooms available. Give me a mo.” To my surprise, he went to work on the laptop open nearby, checking on a reservation for us. “You’ll want a twin, en suite, I’m guessing. Americans don’t usually like sharing bathrooms.”
“Please,” Shannon said.
I exchanged a look with her, and she was smiling. How…unexpected. After being with demons, I’d almost forgotten people could be nice for no reason.
“You’re in luck. Can I help you with anything else?” he asked gently.
Was my face tearstained in addition to beaten the hell up? I wondered. It was the only explanation I could conjure for his continued willingness to assist us.
“If you know of a currency exchange, that’d be everything.”
“Let me check.” He played with the laptop a little longer and then said, “There’s one on Moorgate. I’ve never been, but I can print you some directions.”
“Thank you.” Maybe I wasn’t covered in Chance’s ill luck anymore. It was possible the gate had stripped the effect from me, just like the results of the forget fog I’d cast at the house outside Laredo fell away from Shannon.
“My pleasure. I was just surfing anyway. It’s a slow day.” He handed me a sheet of paper with some instructions.
In the grand scheme, using his laptop for us didn’t amount to much, but considering how fucked up I felt, how broken, it might be the difference between getting through this day and surrendering. With a quiet wave, I stepped back onto the street. First thing, I cracked open the battery and plugged in our phones.
Next, using the directions, I navigated the route to the currency exchange, which involved one train and some walking. I exchanged the dollars and pesos I had on me for British pounds. It amounted to £150, which I hoped would be enough for a room. Shannon had all of twenty-four bucks in her backpack, and she converted that too—around fourteen pounds and change. I could give them my prepaid card for incidentals if they insisted. I hoped the clerk hadn’t sent us to a pricey, upscale place.
Until I got hold of Tia and asked her to wire some money, I couldn’t afford to splurge on a cab, so we walked ten minutes to the Kentish Town West station, took the overground toward Stratford, and got off at Hackney Central. I was bone-tired, and my injuries throbbed. Four minutes later, we reached the hotel. If the guy at the electronics store could be believed, shelter waited for us. Here, I could rest and make plans.
Figure out how to survive.
But I don’t want to.
With desperate determination, I drove that voice out of my head. The brownstone looked clean and respectable. Inside, it was a budget hotel, no bells and whistles, but they took my cash and gave us a key. In the morning, I’d worry about passports and how the hell we were getting home. The ones Eva had cooked for Shannon and me were sufficient to pass land border scrutiny between the U.S. and Mexico, but I didn’t think she had the skill to clone RFID chips to fool the scanners. Which meant we’d have to apply for passports at the embassy and go into the system, unless a better alternative presented itself.
At this point, I couldn’t imagine what that would be.
The Endless Unknown
Our room was clean, with a tiny private bathroom. Twin beds took up most of the space, and they were covered in black and white plaid. With a sigh, I set down my backpack and got out Butch’s water dish. I filled it from the tap and put it down. I had no kibble for him, but I needed to rest before I went back out.
From her expression, I could tell Shannon wanted to call Jesse, so I handed over the phone and stepped into the bathroom to give them some privacy. I splashed water on my face, cleaned up as much as I could. Unfortunately, even with the door closed, I could hear her side of the conversation.
“Jesse, it’s me.” A pause. “Yes, Corine found me.” More silence. “I’m in London.” He had to be tearing her a new one, and she sniffed in response to whatever he was saying. “No, it wasn’t like that. I promise I’ll explain everything when I’m home. I am safe, though.” A longer break—I sensed the warmth of her reaction to his words. “I know. I’m sorry. But I’m glad you knew before I called. I promise I got on the line as soon as I could.” And then, “Yes, I love you too.”
Their conversation lightened from there. “I have my laptop, so I’ll be online in a little while if you want to talk more. I can’t burn all Corine’s minutes.”
She talked to him for five minutes more, laughter in her voice, and I hated her in mute silence, my head resting against the bathroom door. Not because she’d taken Jesse Saldana from me, but because the man she loved might be across the ocean but he was still in this world with her. She would see him again.
So will you, I told myself. He’ll find a way. He keeps his promises.
I couldn’t believe it wholly, but how I wanted to.
Then Shan knocked, and I didn’t loathe her anymore, because she was my best friend and little sister combined; she was Shannon Cheney, and her life was worth suffering any pain. Even the unthinkable. Even this. I’d made my choice when I went to Sheol after her. Humans didn’t venture to the demon realm without paying the price; Chance remitted my ransom willingly, and the ache of that would never abate.
When I opened the door, she hugged me hard, without speaking; then I stepped back. I mustered a smile.
“Jesse said we were gone a month.”
I couldn’t begin to process that. It had seemed longer, a lifetime. So I focused on our mundane needs. “Yeah? Interesting. Stay here and set up, okay? I’ll buy us some things. Watch Butch.”
He yapped twice in protest. “You want to come with me?”
One yap.
“Fine, but you can’t walk unless I find you a leash.”
He gave me a look, but when he hopped into my purse, I figured he was okay with the terms I’d dictated. I cleaned out the bloody athame and things from the demon world that had no place in this one.
With Butch in tow, I limped down the stairs and out the front onto the street. I got lucky with a pet store a few doors down, and I bought Butch a small bag of food and a leash. That made him happy, as he stretched his legs. Eventually I located a Tesco, where I bought us cheap T-shirts, some snacks, an AC adapter for our devices, and two travel kits with miscellaneous toiletries. Nobody said anything about Butch, so I guessed they were used to purse dogs, even here. On the way back, I stopped at a place called Noodle Express, where I ordered Vietnamese spring rolls, king prawn pad thai, and ngay tho. They made the food fast and I returned to Shannon with a sense of utter exhaustion.
Conversation was sparse; we ate while she IM’d with Jesse like I’d once done. I had no reaction to their relationship apart from minor happiness, which was all I could manage. Afterward, we show
ered in shifts and went to bed. I dreamed of Chance dying, over and over again. I felt his mouth on mine, the desperation in his eyes as he sank the blade into his chest. When I woke, my chest felt as if I were dying too, but I hid the pain beneath a tired smile.
Yesterday’s emptiness felt more profound. On impulse, I grabbed my athame and whispered, “Fiat lux.”
Nothing. I tried to pull my mother’s power. There was no tingle, no heat, no pain. I suspected my use of demon magick had sealed those pathways, and I was no longer a poorly trained witch; any magick that remained to me would be demonic in origin. I didn’t know if I could still use the touch, but I didn’t care enough to test it.
I have to call Min.
My hands shook as I input her number. When I heard her soft hello, I lost it. “Min? Min, I’m sorr—”
“I know,” she said, her voice raw with weeping. “I already know. He’s with his father now.”
She cut the call, whether because she couldn’t talk or she blamed me, I didn’t know. I stared at the Nokia in my hand, and then squeezed my eyes shut. No more, I thought. I can’t bear it.
“What now?” Shannon asked eventually.
Haunted, I raised my head. I wished she had her radio with her. Chance hadn’t been mortal. Not entirely. And the gate required the full strength of a mortal soul to open, so what happened when a demigod gave himself over to it? Surely he was bigger, stronger, than a normal human spirit. I wouldn’t believe there was nothing left, not even in the afterlife. He had been the son of Ebisu, for god’s sake. That had to count for something. If Shannon had her radio and tuned in, she could find him, and I could hear his voice again.
I’d know, at least, that part of him had survived the transition. For now, however, I had to concentrate on our current predicament. Using Shannon’s laptop, I checked on how complicated it would be to get a passport—when you’d never been issued one. Research indicated there would be all kinds of bureaucratic red tape, awkward questions asked. It wasn’t like I could tell the embassy that I’d slipped into London illegally via Sheol. I didn’t look forward to dealing with all the complexities of modern life.
Unable to face that just yet, I called Tia, who answered on the fourth ring. Belatedly, I realized it was probably the middle of the night at home, if it was morning here. “¿Que paso?” she demanded in a worried tone. “¿Quien es?”
“It’s Corine,” I answered in Spanish.
“Are you all right, mija? Did you find your friend?”
No. And yes.
Aloud, I said, “I need your help again. Can you wire me some cash?”
“¿Donde?”
I reached for the laptop and found an agent who could receive payments, then gave her the information. “There’s money in my room—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “It will be hours before Western Union opens. Will you be all right until then?”
“I should be.” We had enough for another night here, but only that. “You can wait until tomorrow to go. I won’t be able to pick up the money before then anyway.”
“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry.” It was comforting to hear her voice, under the circumstances.
“Gracias. I’m sorry I woke you. I should have waited to call.” I paused, feeling like I had something important to tell her, but my mind was heavy, tired. “Can you get my passport? It’s in the—”
“Lockbox under your bed.” She knew everything that went on in her house.
“I’ll need it later.” Though my fake passport wasn’t good enough to get me out of the country, it would permit me to pick up the wire transfer.
“Sí, claro,” she said. “I will go to FedEx as soon as it opens. And then I will go to Banamex tomorrow.”
“Gracias por todo. Feel free to take whatever money you need—for whatever reason.” Then I remembered what I meant to tell her. “Your bracelet saved my life.”
“I knew it would,” she said with satisfaction. Before I could question her, she cut the call.
I handed the phone to Shan. “Ask Jesse to overnight your passport and radio.”
We couldn’t travel by rail or ship without ID, and I wasn’t sure if the fake driver’s license in my wallet would stand up to scrutiny by international authorities. This measure would serve as a stopgap solution while I figured things out. If need be, we could rent a house or a flat while we were here. Tia could send small, multiple payments easily via wire, until I had a respectable nest egg, a buffer against disaster.
Don’t think about Chance.
Shannon nodded. “My phone too, while he’s at it.”
The day passed in a blur. I got more cheap takeout, walked Butch, and rented the room for another day while praying Tia would come through. Faith sustained me; she’d never let me down yet. On schedule, the package from her arrived first thing in the morning. I studied my passport—the one Eva had made—and wondered how Chuch and Eva were. How the baby was. They seemed so far removed from this life, this crisis. I missed them, but they were better off keeping their distance from me.
I didn’t want to tell them about Chance. During the long wait, Shan brushed and braided my hair. She talked about her plans. Trying to distract me, I know, but the pain kept time with the beating of my heart, so it pulsed in my blood. Eventually, she wrapped her arms around my back and rested her chin on my shoulder.
“Thank you for coming for me,” she whispered.
That drew me out of my self-imposed distance. I turned and hugged her. “Of course. You’re my best friend.”
We cried together then, as we hadn’t given ourselves time in the alley. Reaction set in. Everything we’d seen and lost. She was the only person in the world who knew what it was like in Sheol. At least we still had each other. My nose ran, my eyes swelled, and her sobs rang in my ears.
“I feel old,” she said finally, easing back to wipe her face with her forearm. “Like, ancient. Jesse used to talk about the age gap between us, but between the kidnapping, the time with the Hazo, your rescue…I feel like I lived a whole life there, you know?”
“I think maybe we did. It seemed longer to me too.” A month, Jesse had said.
No, Shan was right. It had been a lifetime.
Exhausted from the emotional catharsis, we napped. I didn’t mean to; it just happened, and I dreamt of Chance again. This time without the blood. This time I saw him in the spray of cherry blossoms, where his father fell in love with Min. He was smiling. Beckoning. I woke smiling, my feet on the floor. Only there was no sunlit orchard waiting, just a cheap rented room and Shannon asleep on her side.
Tia called my cell, startling me. “The money should be there, Corine.”
I thanked her and went off with my cooked passport and my dog, hoping for the best. An hour later, I returned with two thousand dollars, and Shannon was signing for her package down at the front desk. It was large and bulky, due to the antique radio. My heart literally skipped a beat, and then steadied. Her ability drained her, but fortunately, we had snacks in the room, so I could ask Shan to use her gift without feeling guilty.
I had to know.
Upstairs, she unpacked the box and found more than she’d requested. Her radio, her fake passport, some clothing—T-shirts and underwear mostly—her phone, which ha’d a picture of Jesse Saldana as the wallpaper when she booted it up, and a prepaid MasterCard. As a cop, Jesse would know it was illegal to send cash via FedEx, so he’d tried to help Shannon as much as he could without knowing the specifics of her predicament. It had to help, just knowing she was safe.
“I already know what you’re going to ask,” she said.
I produced the adapter, plugged the radio into it, and then connected it to the wall in confirmation. “It’s killing me. I can’t sleep, can’t do anything without knowing. I dream about him, Shan.” My voice broke.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
She clicked on the radio that let her summon and talk to the dead. At once, a chill swept through the roo
m, so strong I saw my breath. I tucked my hands beneath my arms as I folded them and waited for Shannon to work her magick. I’d seen her in action before, but it had never mattered so much.
“Chance, Corine needs to hear from you.”
Like always, she fiddled with the tuning dial as the tension rose in the room, until the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. It felt like fingers stroking, stroking, and a shiver ran down my spine. At 1122 on the AM dial—also Chance’s birthday—the static resolved. I bit down on my lower lip.
“Are you here?” Shannon asked. “Chance, can you hear me?”
Those fingers stroked down my nape again. The radio spoke in a hauntingly familiar voice: “Even death will not keep me from you.”
The gem at my throat blazed with heat—and this time I wept tears of joy.
DEMON CASTES
Aronesti—the Snatchers. They feast on the flesh of the dead, and when summoned will often manifest in cannibal killers. They are winged, humanoid with withered features and terrible claws. Most likely, they gave rise to the Harpies of legend.
Birsael—the Bargainers. They are the most commonly summoned demons. They love making deals with humans; they thrive on mischief and misfortune. In Sheol they are shape-shifters and can take whatever form they desire.
Dohan—the Drinkers. These demons can be summoned only via blood magick. They require a sacrifice, and can be bound to enhance a dark practitioner’s power. They appear human, apart from their unusual eyes. On the rare occasions when they passed into the human world corporeally, they gave rise to vampire lore, as they subsist on human blood.
Eshur—the Judges. They do not respond to summonings of any kind. They are outside the other castes and sit in judgment of their peers. The Eshur cannot be bribed; they are emotionless and bound to duty. They are tall and thin, blue-skinned, with vestigial horns.