She nodded, and he went in his closet, quickly got dressed, and pocketed his switchblade. Back in the bathroom, he took her hand. “I’m running on empty. Can you transport us to Mariah’s apartment?”
Seconds later, they stood in the cramped room. There was no one there, but he saw the toaster and a stain of blood on the old blanket covering the bed. He looked down at Jordan. “You’re awesome.”
She gripped his hand. “I wonder where he went?”
He stepped to the door, which was standing wide open, and looked down the hall. “Let’s follow the trail.” She closed the door behind her and went along with him as he walked toward the stairwell. Drops of blood were here and there, all the way down to the fifth floor, where they meandered off into the hall. Key saw the guy slumped against the wall, a cell phone in his hand. “Is that him?”
“For sure. He had on blue coveralls.”
“I was kind of joking, Jordan.” He looked down into her surprised eyes. “I mean, the guy’s bleeding all over the place. You seriously nailed him, didn’t you?”
She looked at the lost soul, and her eyes hardened. “I wanted to kill him.”
“But you didn’t. Like I said—you’re amazing.” Still holding her hand, he walked toward the guy, who saw them coming and tried to get up but couldn’t. “I need you to transport us to the gate, Jordan.”
“But I don’t know where it is.”
“Just keep holding my hand.” He reached down and grabbed the lost soul’s arm, ignoring his feeble protests. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the gate, and the well of energy inside his Anabo. He heard her gasp, then they were moving, and when he opened his eyes, they were in the desert. He let go of the lost soul but not Jordan’s hand.
“Where are we?” she asked, looking all around them.
“Saudi Arabia, close to the Yemen border.”
“Can you send him down, Key? Jax said everyone goes on a takedown, or no one goes. He said there has to be a doppelganger. We don’t even know this guy’s name.”
He bent and took the cell phone from the lost soul. “Now we will.” He dropped it into his pocket. “I’ll call M, and he’ll provide a doppelganger; Phoenix will come up with a plan for where to leave it. For now, however, this one’s got to go, because he saw Mariah’s birthmark.” He looked down at the lost soul, noticing how very young he was. Probably eighteen or nineteen. “What were you looking for?” he asked him.
He stared up at Key, a glazed look in his eyes. He was close to death. He didn’t seem to realize where he was, or what was about to happen to him.
“Tell me what you were after,” Key said to him.
Dazed, the man blinked and looked at Jordan. “Beautiful, just like he said.”
“Who said?” Key asked.
“Eryx,” the guy whispered. “Said she was in Bucharest, and to follow and see why she was there. I … saw look-alikes. Sent a photo and he said see if taller one had … Anabo mark.”
Key felt cold all over. “How did Eryx know she was in Bucharest?”
He looked surprised at the question. “Her cell phone. Has someone track … and tells him …” He stopped and looked up at the sky. “I’m … my head … hurts so much.” Tears began to roll down the sides of his face. “Let me die. Please don’t send me down.”
Key looked at Jordan. Her eyes were wide with apprehension but no sympathy. She’d changed completely to Mephisto, without an ounce of compassion for the lost souls.
The guy began to shake and mumbled, “Mercy … have mercy.”
Before he could die and become another win for Eryx, Key raised his arms, still holding Jordan’s hand, and began the chant, drawing from her energy again.
When it was done, he saw her staring at the place where the lost soul had been. “I bet he was texting Eryx when we found him, and he’d already told him about Mariah.”
Key looked at the guy’s cell and wished they’d found him sooner. “You’d win the bet, because that’s exactly what he was doing.” The last text was from Eryx, telling his lost soul to stay in Mariah’s apartment until she returned, then keep her there and let Eryx know immediately. He’d already been planning her capture, and if he’d been successful, Key didn’t know if he would have used Mariah as leverage to get at Jordan or kept her instead. Probably leverage, because Mariah would be no challenge to him, and Key was beginning to believe his brother was enjoying this cat and mouse game with Jordan.
Eryx had lost all capacity for empathy, was detached from most every human emotion, but he still had likes and dislikes, and he was still an eighteen-year-old guy. Key had always wondered if cruelty to Phoenix wasn’t Eryx’s only reason for killing Jane. Since she carried his mark, he could have tried to bring her back, and if she’d chosen immortality, he might have convinced her to have his sons. But she wasn’t his type of girl, at all. Jane was quiet and proper and, in some ways, very passive.
Jordan was none of those things. She was outspoken and strong, a natural-born leader. She would never be easy, would always be a challenge. She was also petite, dark-haired, and beautiful. Every girl Key had ever seen with Eryx was small, dark-haired, and beautiful. He wanted Jordan badly enough to come out of his reclusion and go about in the real world, so Key had his doubts that Eryx planned to capture Mariah as a substitute. She was all about leverage.
He made a mental note to talk to the Mephisto about this, to ensure Mariah didn’t leave the mountain again for any reason.
Jordan was still staring at the sand. “What you said,” she murmured, “it’s a language I’ve never heard before.”
“It’s ancient and tied to the underworld. Lucifer gave us the words, and he hears when we say them and allows us to open the gate. It means—”
“Commit this soul that defiles humanity to eternity within. Grant no mercy. Hear no plea.” She looked up at him with a small smile. “I understood. But how do you make the gate open?”
He brushed her windblown hair away from her face. “It’s like when you turned the lamp on and off in my room that night. I willed it to open, and Lucifer allowed it. But it takes energy, and I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday, so I drew on yours.”
“Then you need me to get you back home.”
“Well, yeah.”
“So you’re kind of at my mercy, aren’t you?”
“Jordan, I’m at your mercy wherever we are, whatever the circumstances.”
“It’s just that I want to tell you something, and since we’re all alone here, it seems like the right time.” She turned her head to stare down at the spot in the sand that hid the gate. “When this guy went after Mariah and she didn’t make the tiniest effort to escape him, I realized she’s closed herself off so completely—just to cope—that she’s even buried her instinct to survive.” Raising her gaze to the soaring dune in front of them, she held his hand a little tighter. “I feel insanely protective of her, and I’m humbled and heartbroken, but what’s eating me alive is guilt. I can’t stand that she’s this way because of what she did for me.”
She turned her head and gave him a solemn look. “I get why you can’t bring yourself to hate him, Key.” Fat tears welled in her eyes and clung to her lashes. “I can’t imagine how you’ve lived over a thousand years with this unbearable guilt, and it’s a billion times worse for you, because he became a monster, with no chance he’ll ever be different. Mariah’s lost right now, but she’s still Anabo, and I’ll never give up hope that she’ll find her way back. If I didn’t have that, I think maybe I’d self-destruct.” Her tears spilled over. “I’m sorry for what I said, and for causing you more pain. I can’t help hating him, Key, but I can’t hold it against you that you don’t.” She squeezed his hand. “I’m in awe of you.”
The tears he’d managed to keep at bay all day popped into his eyes, and no amount of swallowing or deep breaths would make them go away. Finally, he gave up trying, hauled her into his arms, and silently wept.
SEVENTEEN
BY THE TIME JORDA
N GOT BACK TO HER ROOM AT THE White House and apologized to Brody for being gone six hours instead of two, it was quarter-past six and sleep was out of the question. She seriously considered taking a sick day, but she hated to waste any of the time she had left in the real world. She could sleep when she was back in Colorado, three weeks from now.
Her dad wasn’t at breakfast, and Betsy said as she set a plate of eggs in front of Jordan, “A riot broke out in Atlanta late last night, and he decided to go down there to show support for law enforcement and talk to the people who instigated all the trouble.”
“Who is it? Should Dad be doing that? Is it safe?”
“It’s just people. No group, or anything. They’re out of work, and another plant closed on Friday. And I’m sure he’ll be safe. With things so crazy right now, I think the Secret Service is more diligent than ever. You know there’ve been protests and riots popping up all over, don’t you?”
Jordan was ashamed to admit that she didn’t know. “I’ve been kind of preoccupied, Betsy, and haven’t watched any news. And Dad doesn’t tell me stuff like he did before—I guess because he worries it’ll upset me.”
Betsy had always urged Jordan to be active and up to speed on what was going on in the world, so it surprised her when she said, “Probably just as well, Jo. Someday, it’ll be you and your generation running things, and it’ll be more of the same problems, because it’s always the same problems. You need to enjoy what’s left of your childhood, because one day you’ll wake up with heavy responsibilities.”
Jordan ate her eggs and thought it was kind of funny that Betsy had hit the nail on the head, except her old nanny didn’t know that her childhood was going to last only three more weeks, and her responsibilities would be heavier than she could imagine.
When she arrived at school, Key was waiting for her in the front hall. She saw him and grinned because she was glad to see him, but also because of how he was dressed. In a long-sleeved blue polo, dark blue Levi’s, and contacts that turned his eyes to smoky blue, instead of pitch black, he would look like most every other guy at Oates, except that he was over six feet tall and wore his hair in a ponytail. She noticed the other kids were checking him out as they passed, especially the girls, as if they’d only just noticed he was hot. “You’re a sheep,” she whispered to him.
“I’m totally whipped,” he whispered back.
“Are you saying you did this for me?”
He met her eyes. “I gave serious thought to being less obviously stuck on you so you could spend this time doing what you’d normally do, and it’d maybe change people’s mind about kicking you out of office. But I decided to try to fit in instead; that way I can stay close to you, and maybe people won’t be so judgy about your being with me.”
“Because you’re worried about me taking out a lost soul?”
“Because I’m stuck on you.”
“It’s only the Anabo thing.”
Reaching for her hand, he took off walking, all the way to the end of the hall, to his locker. Hank and Gunther took up positions several feet away, huge and out of place in the middle of the mass of moving kids.
Key opened his locker and crowded her against it, holding the door to give them the maximum privacy possible under the circumstances, which wasn’t much at all. He stared down into her eyes while he said in a low, even voice, “If I didn’t like you, do you think I’d still want to be with you just because you’re Anabo?”
“Yeah, I kinda do. It’s pretty huge, especially the covenant.”
He sighed. “Am I that much of an ass? My brothers think I’m a robot, and you think I want you only because of what you can do for me.”
“You’re not an ass, but you can be pretty harsh. As for me, I think you want me to listen when you’re worried and help you when you’re trying to make a decision. And you want me for … to … well …” She blushed, but didn’t look away from his eyes. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “You want a girl who’ll stay all night and be there when you wake up in the morning.”
“And you think just any girl would fit the bill, so long as she’s Anabo?”
“It’s okay, Key. You’ve waited over a thousand years, and now I’m here, and we get along, so you don’t have to pretend you like me. I mean, like me. I know you like me enough to be friends.”
“Don’t you know I like you a helluva lot more than friends?”
“How would I?”
Confusion came into his eyes, and he said, “I don’t know.” Then he brightened and said, “But now you know, because I just told you.”
He wanted so badly to do what he needed to do to make it work between them, but he went at it like everything else in his life. Make a plan, make a list, check off each task; when he reached the end, it was done. Move on to the next problem or project. “Yes, Key, now I know.”
He was looking at her expectantly, waiting to hear how she felt about him. She remembered telling Mary Michael that this sounded as romantic as cold oatmeal, but the reality was worse. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. He had created a miniature Eden in a greenhouse, but he’d never send her flowers. He sometimes looked at her as if she was the most beautiful girl on the planet, but he’d rarely say it out loud. He’d be pushy and arrogant and spend a lot of time looking at her just like he was looking at her right now, impatiently waiting for an answer.
But he went to Bucharest to get her bunny fixed and look for her past. He brought her sister to her. And when she told him she was sorry for what she’d said, the Mephisto leader who never cried lost it.
He got up every day and toed the line for his brothers, his father, and everyone on the mountain. For all of humanity. He might never find it in himself to love her enough to earn Heaven, but he’d be true to her forever. He was way more than romantic. He was deep, strong, and completely devoted to those he cared about.
Yesterday Jax had said she was falling in love, but she kind of wondered if she’d already landed.
One of Matthew’s best buddies passed and gave her an accusing look, but she didn’t let it get to her. She loved Matthew, and she’d make sure he knew it before she had to go away again, but she’d never felt this way about him, like she was skating across the universe. Matthew had been her escape from all the crazy that came with being the First Daughter, and she’d been his refuge from his hypercritical father.
Key would never be an escape. If anything, there might be times when she’d need an escape from him, because he was a son of Hell. Because he was Key. But he’d also always be that voice on the wind. He’d never take her for granted.
Reaching out, she hooked a finger through one of his belt loops and tugged until he moved a few inches closer. “You’re a lot more to me than just a friend, Key.”
He looked relieved. “Good. So will you just believe that if I had a whole roomful of Anabo to choose from, I’d pick you?”
“Would you?”
“No question. I admit, you’re not what I expected, but you’re exactly what I want.”
“What did you expect?”
“A sweet, reserved girl who wouldn’t provoke my brother into stabbing her a hundred times.”
“A wilting violet? Oh, come on, Key. You’d run all over her and forget about her in a week.”
“I see that now.” He grinned at her. “I keep trying to run all over you, but you’re just so … stabby.”
The final bell rang, and they were late to class, so Mr. Shelley gave them each a tardy slip. On their way to the back of the room, where Brody was already sitting, they passed Mark, whose boils were all gone. She expected him to say something to Key, but he never looked up from his desk.
After they sat down, Key took her tardy slip and his and folded them together into the shape of a heart, then leaned over and set it on top of her chemistry book. She was feeling all warm and wonderful that he’d surprised her and done something romantic, when she noticed he’d written a note on the heart. You’re tired, but I know you’re going to want
to see Mariah. After your visit tonight, skip training and get some sleep.
Okay, so it wasn’t romantic in the usual way, but it was for Key.
Before she could slip the heart into her backpack, he took it back to write something else.
And don’t forget to let me kiss you.
She looked across the aisle at him, but he was looking straight ahead, seemingly engrossed in Mr. Shelley’s lecture about emulsifying agents.
The rest of the day passed entirely differently than the week before. People didn’t seem as freaked out by Key, and she didn’t think it was just the change in what he was wearing. He was different. Granted, he would never be Mr. Popular, because it wasn’t as if he suddenly became extroverted, but he sat with her at lunch in the dining hall and joined in the conversation. He smiled and remembered people’s names.
Eryx sat next to Tessa at the other end of their table, and every time Jordan glanced their way, she caught him looking at her. She knew Key also noticed, but he continued acting like a regular guy, and when lunch was over, he held her hand as they walked to their next class and never mentioned Eryx. It was odd, but he seemed to want to pretend they really were just ordinary kids.
She went to see Mariah that night, and they looked through the pictures in the album. It was surreal to see her biological parents, and supersad to see her and Mariah, so young and small, smiling at the camera. There were pictures of them playing with dolls, swinging on swings, standing in front of a Christmas tree, and sleeping curled up together, Mariah with a protective arm across Jordan, who was clutching the bunny. All this time, lost to each other. But she had all the years ahead to be with Mariah, and she would focus on that, on getting her sister back to the happy girl she was in those pictures.
She didn’t forget to let Key kiss her. When she left Mariah, who said Sasha was going to teach her to paint the next day, Jordan popped to Key’s door and went in after he answered her knock. He was at his desk, writing in a journal. “Do you do that every day?” she asked.