“As the son of a dark angel and an Anabo, I’m not human, but I live and breathe and am bound to the Earth until the end of time. I’ve spent the past thousand years convincing people to follow me, and when they die, their soul becomes mine. When I have enough, when I’m more powerful than Lucifer, I’ll guard the gates of Hell.” He never moved, his expression never changed, but his excitement was obvious. “Because of original sin, mankind is doomed to Hell unless people can rise above it and live their lives according to God’s law. Lucifer allows free will, gives humanity the liberty to choose between good and evil. I won’t. Every soul will belong to me.”
Jordan whispered, “Then God will destroy the world.”
He settled back in his chair. “It will be the beginning of the ultimate war.”
Maybe her thinking was twisted, but she found herself wishing her kidnapper was an ordinary terrorist, a man with a mission that might be half baked and misguided but was based in reality. All that guy could threaten was death.
Eryx wanted to take on God.
She set the glass of awful whiskey in the cup holder in the armrest of her chair. “What does my father have to do for me to go home?”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. Nothing reached his eyes. “Pledge his soul to me.”
Never. Dad was all about faith and doing the right thing. “He won’t do it.”
Eryx shrugged. “Time will tell. I think he’ll be more open to the idea when he sees the result of your abduction. The American people will sympathize, and their dislike of his administration will be forgotten.”
Maybe Americans would feel sorry for Dad, but they weren’t likely to forget their unhappiness with his presidency. Most people were a lot more worried about their own problems, especially when times were hard. That was now. She’d heard Dad say he was afraid the country was headed for another depression, and his daughter being kidnapped wasn’t going to divert attention away from that. Not long term, anyway. “Will they know I was kidnapped by a guy from Hell?”
“Of course not. To all the world except your father, you’ve been abducted by Red Out, a militant group angry with the president’s agenda. In reality, they belong to me. They’ll demand concessions for your release, which he’ll appear to give them, right up until the FBI takes them out. If he does what I ask of him, you’ll go home with no memory of your ordeal, no way to deny or confirm where you were during your abduction.”
“I’m supposed to lie?”
“No, you really won’t remember. I’ll erase your memory of me, of everything, before I send you home.”
He could make her forget. Could he control her mind? Her fear, if possible, ratcheted up another notch. “If I’m going to forget, why have you told me all of this?”
“To pass the time.” His lifeless eyes stared harder at her. “Also, perhaps, because I want to convince you to follow me.”
Her instant reaction was another wave of nausea, Maggie’s voice repeating over and over in her head. “Do whatever it takes to stay alive.” Telling Eryx she’d rather have her head cut off than give her soul to him would do nothing to help her. Swallowing hard, she managed to ask in a fairly normal voice, “How do you get followers? What would convince someone to give up God and hand her soul to you?”
“My followers recruit people by telling them they can have their heart’s desire. Amazing what some people will ask for in exchange for their soul.”
“How do you give them what they want?”
“That’s the beauty of it, and the tragedy, I suppose. Most of the time, they don’t get what they want, but they believe all of it, right up until they swear the oath. In that moment, they understand, but it’s too late. They can never go back. They’ll spend the rest of their lives serving me, finding new recruits; then, when they die, their souls are mine.”
“So you’ll lie to my dad to get his pledge?”
“On the contrary. If he does what I ask, he’ll have you back.”
He was lying, she was certain. No matter what Dad did, she was going to die. “He won’t give up his soul, even if it means saving me. He’s better than that.”
Eryx chuckled. It had an odd sound to it, like rusty hinges on an old door. “No one is immune to temptation, except the Anabo, and there’ve been only two born in the past hundred years. If I knew what you wanted above anything, I would promise it, and you’d pledge, even knowing what you now know. Temptation is irresistible to every human because each one carries the sin of Eve. You’d gamble that maybe, just this once, I wasn’t lying, that I’d give you what you want.”
“Do whatever it takes to stay alive.”
Maggie didn’t know, could never have guessed, that something other than Jordan’s life might be at stake.
TWO
IN HIS CLOSET, KEY SLID HIS SWITCHBLADE INTO HIS TRENCH coat pocket before he opened a drawer, selected two other blades from their felt-lined beds, and slipped them into the straps of his engineer boots. Turning to his dresser, he was scraping his hair back to fasten it into a ponytail when he was hit by an uneasy feeling.
What the hell would he say to Jordan when they found her? He was probably the least talkative of any of his brothers, and not always because he had nothing to say. It was just easier to keep his thoughts to himself and to speak only when he had to. He wouldn’t be able to do that with Jordan. She wouldn’t know anything about them, or Eryx, or that she was Anabo. At least, he didn’t think so. How would he tell her? How would she react?
Jax told him Sasha had been afraid, but after a while, she accepted the reality of what existed on the other side, what ordinary humans didn’t know. He said that because Jordan was Anabo, she’d feel like she owed it to humanity to join them, but what if she didn’t? Key didn’t know if he had it in him to be persuasive.
Annoyed with himself, he turned away from the dresser. His worry about what to say was pointless if they didn’t rescue her before Eryx had her killed.
To conserve energy, he didn’t pop downstairs but walked through the winding corridors of the second floor until he came to the grand staircase. His brothers and Sasha were waiting for him in the front hall of the mansion, forming a circle around the onyx M inlaid in white marble. Sober and silent, they watched him descend the stairs. He wondered why they were staring but decided not to ask. No way could he get through an interrogation about his feelings, and any dissection of his thoughts on finding an Anabo after more than a thousand years was not going to happen. To make sure no one said anything, he glared at them.
It worked.
As soon as he’d joined the circle, standing between Zee and Denys, Jax said, “We’ve done the White House before, so you’re all familiar with exits and possible escape routes. You know which are yours, so cover and watch anyone who comes in or out. If you see Trent, take him immediately to the gates, but don’t get carried away and send him down. We have to know where they’ve taken Jordan, and he’s our best hope of finding out. Any questions?”
They all shook their heads.
Jax looked down at Sasha. “You stick with Phoenix. I’m going in with Key.”
She frowned at him. “I can get there, Jax. It’s the White House, and I know where it is.”
He glanced at Phoenix, who shrugged, then looked down into her face and touched the mic curled around her ear. “If you have a problem, let us know, and Phoenix will come for you … wherever you wind up.”
“I won’t have a problem. You’ll see.”
Key noticed the looks exchanged among his brothers, luckily not seen by Sasha because she was focused on Jax.
Sasha had been in training the past year, but she still had a long way to go. She was awful at transporting, sometimes landing miles from the intended destination. Takedowns were a challenge because she couldn’t resist engaging, even though she knew it was pointless. A lost soul would do or say anything to save himself from Hell on Earth. Reasoning with him, saying anything at all, was wasted effort. Also a recipe for rage. She lost it during one
of her first takedowns and killed the lost soul before he could be sent to Hell on Earth. A win for Eryx, the dead guy’s soul adding to his tote board, increasing his dark power. Sasha had been horrified. It spooked her, and in every takedown since, she hesitated just long enough to allow the enemy to wound her.
She’d learn, and get better at what they did. It would just take some time. Key wondered if Jordan would be a quicker study than Sasha. Once she was here, they could train together. Maybe Sasha would like that.
Jax looked around the circle, said, “Let’s do it,” and, as one, they disappeared from Colorado.
Moments later, Key stood with Jax on the roof of the White House, cloaked so no one could see or hear them. He glanced at the Secret Service countersnipers, who kept watch for any long-range threats, then looked across the lawn toward the street. Hundreds of people clustered along the fence, waving American flags, holding candles and flowers. “They may hate her father, but they love her.”
Jax gave him a weird look. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Kyros?”
“What are you talking about? Of course I’m up for it.”
Jax stared for a while before he looked away. “If you say so. On three, pop down to the Truman Balcony. One … two …”
Before Key could say anything else, Jax had thrown out three fingers. Key had no choice but to follow.
They materialized on the balcony, to the left of the windows of the Yellow Oval Room. “Why did you ask me if I’m up for this?”
Jax moved toward the window and whispered as he peeked inside, “Your hair’s down.”
Son of a bitch. He never, ever went into the field with his hair down. He’d been so busy thinking about Jordan, worrying about what he’d say to her, that he’d forgotten to bind it. The slip rattled him, but he’d never admit it to Jax. “I ran out of hair bands,” he lied.
Jax threw a look over his shoulder that called bullshit, but wisely didn’t say anything.
“What’s in there?”
His brother looked again, then stepped back and huffed out a breath. “Ellis and Trent, just like Phoenix said, but now they have company.”
Key moved around Jax and did his own peek, sucking in a breath when he saw who was with the president. Looking around at the well-known, important, high-ranking people in the U.S. government, a sea of shaded eyes, he was stunned.
Eryx had been busy in Washington. Converting the president must be the final step in his plan to control the United States. It was brilliant, really. With enough of his followers in Congress and serving on the president’s cabinet, he could alter the course of history. He would lead American citizens to desperate hopelessness, then offer them a way out—an empty promise of a better life in return for their souls.
The president was the only one in the room whose eyes weren’t shaded by the darkness of Eryx. He stood next to the fireplace, looking like a man whose daughter had been abducted by terrorists—angry, confused, and scared shitless.
Key stepped back and looked at his brother. “Is that blowing your mind?”
“Totally blown, and Phoenix’s head will explode, trying to dream up a takedown plan. But we’ll worry about it later. For now, I’m throwing a freeze. Are you ready?”
Jerking a nod, Key waited for the count, and as soon as Jax said three, he popped inside, landing just on the other side of the windows. Jax appeared close to the door into the Central Hall, in case Trent tried to make a run for it. Thinking they were lucky that Ron Trent was the only Skia in the room, the only one who couldn’t be frozen, Key headed for the chief of staff, stepping around the stone-still figures of the Senate majority leader and the secretary of the treasury as he went.
Their prey was an exceptionally smart man, and he clearly knew the sudden stillness of everyone in the room but him, coupled with the appearance of two giants dressed in black, meant he was very close to toast. A nanosecond after the realization lit his eyes, he stepped behind Ellis’s still body and held a knife to his throat. “Leave now or I’ll kill him.”
Key made a snap decision to call the man’s bluff. “It’s nothing to me if you kill him, but I suspect Eryx won’t be pleased. Ellis’s assassination will land the vice president in the White House, and Eryx will have to convince all the new staff and cabinet members to pledge their souls.” Key lifted one brow. “And you’ll be executed for killing the president.”
Looking triumphant, Trent said smugly, “I can’t be executed. I’m immortal.”
“To humanity, you’re immortal. What Eryx gives, Eryx can take away. Do you seriously think he’ll let you live if you murder Ellis?”
Trent hesitated, determination shifting to anxiety.
“Tell us where to find Jordan.”
Behind the dark shadow of Skia, a cagey look came into the man’s eyes. “Leave and call me in an hour. Then I’ll tell you.”
Key sighed. Did the man really think he could get out of this? Maybe he wasn’t as smart as Key thought. Moving at the speed of light, he knocked the knife from Trent’s hand and grabbed him in a headlock. “Jax, you got this covered?”
“Got it. Go. Now.”
Trent had just begun to put up a fight when Key transported him all the way to the other side of the planet, to the vast, barren desert of southwestern Saudi Arabia. The Empty Quarter. No-Man’s-Land.
Throwing him to the patch of sand that hid the gates to Hell on Earth, he towered over him. “Where is Jordan?”
Turning his head from side to side, Trent looked more confused than afraid. “Where are we?”
“The gates of your own personal Hell. Where is Jordan?”
“What’s it to you? I thought the Mephisto never interfered with humanity.”
“Answer and I’ll take you back to civilization, where you’ll have a fighting chance of escaping us. You’ve got thirty seconds. After that, we’re done and you’re history.”
Trent glared at him and said nothing.
The wind died abruptly, a gift from Lucifer, no doubt, and the dawn air was filled with the eerie sound of keening wails: the infinite misery only the immortals in Hell on Earth could know.
Losing his attitude, Trent’s eyes widened, and he began to shake violently. “Is that … are those …?”
“Your immortal brethren, calling for you. Are you ready to join them?” Key stepped back and raised his arms to the sky, prepared to begin the ancient chant that would open the gates.
His captive fought desperately, writhing against the sand, trying to get up, and when that was impossible, he tried to roll. The fear in his shaded eyes became terror as he finally realized he was no longer a man with power and influence, but just another sucker who had believed Eryx’s lies, who handed over his soul in exchange for what he thought was an easy ticket. “Stop! Dear God, please stop!”
Key began the chant.
“She’s with Eryx, on a plane to Romania!”
Key stopped the chant and dropped his arms. “Does he plan to kill her, even if the president pledges?”
“Yes. He says her abduction and death will garner sympathy and make America less critical of Andy’s administration. It’ll allow him to do some things he might not get away with otherwise. The people will blame it on his grief.” He began to cry piteously. “Eryx said a lot of things.”
“And you believed him.” Key had never understood why, but it sometimes seemed the very best of men were Eryx’s easiest converts. Maybe it was their decency that wouldn’t allow them to recognize evil when it came calling.
“I’ve told you about Jordan. Can we leave now?”
Key answered by raising his arms to the sky. The wind returned, whipping his trench coat behind him, blowing sand across Trent.
“You said if I told you, I’d be given a chance!”
“I’m a son of Hell, Mr. Trent. I lie and cheat without any guilt at all. You of all people should know better than to trust the word of a guy like me.”
“Have mercy! Kill me! Don’t send me down there!”
/> “I can’t kill you. Only Eryx has that privilege.”
Trent looked up to the pearl-gray sky and begged God for mercy.
“He can’t hear you.” Key again began to chant, and beneath the sobbing, bitter regret of another Skia, the sand swirled, faster and faster, until it sucked him under. By the time Key lowered his arms, all traces of Ron Trent were gone, and the desert was barren once again, its silence broken only by the ghostly whistle of the wind.
When he popped back to Washington, the other Mephisto were in the Yellow Oval Room, surrounding the still-frozen president and lost souls.
Jax asked, “Did you send Trent down?”
He nodded. “Not sure how we’re going to explain his disappearance.”
“I’ve already asked M for a doppelganger,” Phoenix said, “which will be in the cooler by lunchtime tomorrow. It’ll look like all the stress caused him to have a massive heart attack.”
Ty asked, “Where’s Jordan?”
Hoping it’d calm him a little, Key took a deep breath. “Eryx has her on a plane, en route to Bucharest.”
Sasha’s voice was shaky. “Can we pop onto airplanes in mid-flight?”
“It’s next to impossible,” Jax said. “Best bet is to be there when they arrive and get her before Eryx transports them to his home in the mountains.”
Phoenix grimly shook his head. “Transporting into a flying plane is dicey, but popping off of one to solid ground is easy. As soon as Eryx gets news that Ellis is a no go, he’ll take her to Erinýes and kill her.”
“He plans to kill her, either way,” Key said, “but I think he’ll wait until Ellis pledges. Otherwise, he loses his leverage.”
“Then we need time. We need to make sure he goes all the way to Bucharest.” Phoenix eyed the lost souls. “After the freeze fades, they’re going to wonder what happened to Trent. If they realize we took him out, one of them will contact Eryx, and it’s all over.”
“We’ll scrub their memories,” Zee said, “so none of them, including the president, will remember Trent was already here. Ellis won’t remember anything Trent told him about Eryx, and the lost souls won’t dare say anything until Trent shows up.”