Aphrodite's Flame (31 page)

Hieronymous’s other disappointment of an offspring, Jason, tromped in after Zephron, looking smug as usual. Hieronymous’s meddling niece and nephew—Zoë and Hale—brought up the rear.

“I knew I should have hidden you in a deeper catacomb,” he said. He waved a hand in dismissal. “Doesn’t matter, though. You’re too late. I
will
win this time. And you have already lost.” He gestured toward the mortalization tube, then saw Zoë‘s eyes go wide. She rushed forward to open the door. Zephron, surprisingly, didn’t look disturbed. Then again, the man had an uncanny ability to keep a straight face, even when faced with the most direst danger.

Zoë opened the tube, and Mordi stepped out. At first, he looked confused, then he lifted his head, faced Hieronymous, and smiled.

“I think, Father, that it’s you who has lost.” And then the little bastard held up a small metal box on the end of a chain. He let loose with a puff of flame from his other hand, engulfing his father.

It wasn’t until Hieronymous had fallen to the ground and snuffed the flames that he realized both truths: 1) His son had used imaginary fire again; and, 2) he should have realized, should have seen the trap. After all, he’d see
Superman 2
over and over and over. Hieronymous knew the trick. He knew it well. But he hadn’t forseen. Somehow, Mordi had reversed the power on the mortalization tube. Mordichai had been safe all the time.

And now Hieronymous was mortal.

Mordi left the others cleaning up the mess and unbending the other Protectors’ minds. He wanted everything to be okay, but he had to get out of there and had to save Izzy. That was what he truly wanted.

And Zephron and the others were all there now, they could handle everything.

As Mordi left, Hieronymous climbed to his feet. Mordi had to give him credit. The guy wasn’t giving up easily. Harold Frost’s Polarity Reversal prototype may have sucked the super heroism right out of him, but Hieronymous didn’t cave.

“You think you can save him?” he asked, and Mordi realized that his father must still assume Harold was in the catacombs. He’d guessed his son’s intentions. “You can’t. If he leaves, the catacombs will collapse, sealing themselves forever. The cells will open long enough to let my little pets escape, but certainly no mortal will make it to the top in time. Some of those Henchmen will be free to do my bidding, and their prison will be sealed off, with no one ever again getting in or out.”

Hieronymous smiled, thin and deadly. “I like to call it a little insurance plan.”

That didn’t sound good, and Mordi raced from Olympus, desperate to get to Izzy’s side. He didn’t yet know how they would get her out, but he knew he was going to stand by her while his brother and Zephron and Zoë wrested the secret of unlocking the cell safely from Hieronymous.

He refused to believe they couldn’t find a way. They had to. He didn’t intend to ever leave Izzy ever again. And he really wasn’t looking forward to a life spent in the dark of the catacombs.

The entrance was still open, the illusion of the rocks still firm. The thick stone door hung above the threshold, a visual barrier if not an actual doorway. Mordi didn’t believe it had ever closed—but now Hieronymous said it would, sealing him and Izzy inside. And at seven feet thick, the door was impenetrable even for a Protector. It if closed while Mordi and Izzy were inside, they would be, well... screwed.

He drew a breath and hoped Zephron and the gang would call soon with the key to getting her out. Barring that, the plan was to rally a large team of Protectors to build an infrastructure in order to keep a path open when the catacombs collapsed. Because that plan would require pulling Protectors off official duty, they were waiting to put the team in place until they were sure Hieronymous wouldn’t talk.

At the moment, though, Mordi wasn’t as concerned with how or when they’d get Izzy out. He just wanted to get
to
her. He raced toward the cell where they’d left her, not stopping until he could press his hand on the cold stone.

Silence.

His heart raced, fear pounding through his brain. “Izzy?” His call was barely a whisper. He was too afraid of calling out to her and having her not answer. What if something had already happened to her? What if he opened the chamber only to find—

“Mordi?”

His entire body sagged with relief, and he pressed his ear to the stone, desperate to hear her sweet voice again. “Iz? Izzy, can you hear me?”

The words she spoke—“I knew you’d come back”— cut through his soul. “Hang on,” he said. “I’m going to get you out of there.”

Davy had shown him how to work the lock, and he had the door open in no time. Izzy raced forward, but he held out a hand, stopping her at the threshold.

“What’s wrong? He’s not—”

“No. Everything went great. Everything except ...” He trailed off, not entirely sure how to phrase it.

“The DNA thing?”

“Afraid so. We don’t have an answer to that yet.”

She licked her lips. “Oh. Yeah. So, um, what do we do?”

“Zephron’s on it. Don’t worry. I expect an answer any second now. We’ll be home in no—”

Beep, beep!

Thank Hera! “Give me some good news,” he said, flipping on the holo-pager and talking before Jason could get a word in edgewise.

“Sorry,” Jason said, his expression about as morose as his words.

“What?” Mordi’s tone was sharper than he intended, but, dammit, how long did they expect Izzy to remain stuck in that cell?

“If there’s a key, Hieronymous isn’t talking. He even told us where the schematics are located, and Hale flew Davy there to take a look. The kid can’t find a back door.”

“It’s got to be there,” Mordi said. “Hieronymous couldn’t just take Harold and lock him away forever. He’d have no bargaining power.”

“I agree with you,” Jason said. “But we can’t find it, and our father’s not telling.” He swallowed, looking away from the transmitter so that it appeared to Mordi that he was avoiding his eyes. “There’s more....”

Mordi’s chest twisted. “Tell me.”

“He duped us. The sorry old bastard duped us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Thirty minutes,” Jason said. “When Davy pulled the schematics out of the cubby hole, it triggered a failsafe device Hieronymous had hidden. The catacombs will collapse in thirty minutes. And if Izzy crosses that threshold, the collapse will come that much sooner. I’m sorry, Mordi. There’s no way we can get a team there in time.”

Mordi clicked off without saying good-bye and caught Izzy’s eyes. Her expression was one of stone determination rather than fear. His heart swelled. By Zeus, he loved this woman.

“I got the general gist of that,” she said. “Tell me the rest.”

He drew in a breath, then told her about how Hieronymous had rigged the place. “He said mortals wouldn’t make it.”

“We’re not mortal,” she said.

He thought about that. The lady did have a point. “So our plan is to run like hell?”

Her mouth curved into a sad smile. “Even if we don’t make it, I’d rather be running with you than trapped in here.” She waved an arm behind her to indicate the tiny cell. “Just say when.”

“No time like the present,” he said. “On the count of three?”

She nodded, and he counted, and on three they took off, racing up the corridor. At first nothing happened, and Mordi had to wonder if perhaps his father had lied: The place hadn’t been booby-trapped, and that had simply been an elaborate ruse designed to knock down Mordi’s morale. But Davy had said....

The walls started to collapse around them.

The harsh grating of stone against stone echoed through the shadow-filled chamber as the individual cells opened, freeing all the Henchmen and other imprisoned beings. And that sound, coupled with the high keening of the creatures, gave the dancing firelight on Mordi’s fingers an even more unearthly—and ominous—appearance.

All around them, Mordi could hear the
schloosh, schloosh
of Henchmen heading for the exit. He and Izzy had to get there first! They had to get there, get out, and prevent any of the Henchmen from getting out, too. Because Mordi was damned if he was going to loose these creatures on the earth ... or if he was going to be spending the rest of his days tracking the damnable things down.

They rounded the last corner ... and ran smack into two hulking Henchmen, their squid-like bodies filling the hallway. Considering the Henchmen barely even moved at the sight of them, Mordi had to assume they’d surprised the creatures.

“Keep going,” Mordi cried, holding tight to Izzy’s hand as they raced down the final stretch. He punched a Henchman in the gut—or at least, in a gut-like area—and it toppled to the ground. He and Isole kept on moving; he could see a shaft of sunlight slanting in under the slowly closing door. The walls shifted, rocks tumbling toward them, and he lurched sideways to avoid one that fell in their path.

Behind him, Izzy screamed, and he realized that he’d lost his grip on her. He turned to find a huge shower of rocks separated them, and he saw her kicking at a Henchman. The thing was half-buried, but its tentacle-like arm clasped to her ankle as she tried to pull herself forward. She lashed out, dosing the creature with a rain of ice, but he jerked her arm as she aimed, and she froze the ceiling instead. Only a few bits of hail landed on the monster.

“Izzy!” Mordi raced toward her.

She twisted, her face contorted with pain, and he realized her ankle was perhaps broken. “No! Go! Get out of here.”

“Are you crazy?”

“The door’s closing,” she screamed. “You’ll be trapped. Now
go
.”

“I’m not leaving you.” He tried to scramble over the pile of rocks that now was grown between them, and as he did, he turned just enough to see the exit. The door was about eighteen inches from the ground. There was no way they could escape now anyway. Not unless—

“Damn you, Mordichai!” Isole twisted, throwing her body forward and straining against the Henchman as she reached up at an awkward angle. He had no idea what she was doing ... and then he saw the ice. It covered an entire overhead mechanism, completely freezing the pulley system that operated the door!

“It won’t hold for long,” she said. “The motor will melt the ice. Mordi, there’s no time to get me over to your side.
Go
,” she said again as she turned and punched at the Henchman.

She was right, of course. There was no way to get her free of that Henchman, get her through the barrier of rocks, and reach the exit. Not before the ice melted and it closed.

No way at all.

He drew in a breath and drew himself a little bit further up the pile. “I’m not leaving you, Izzy. It’s just not happening.”

Izzy screamed at Mordi to go, to run, but the idiot wasn’t listening to her. She couldn’t see him anymore. More of the avalanche had completely blocked the corridor except for a tiny area up top where the door mechanism was, and the shrinking hole through which she’d seen him come back for her—and through which she’d seen the door straining to close.

“Dammit,” she yelled. “For the love of Hera, go!” Tears streamed down her face, and she kicked against her captor, and punched him again, but was unable to free her foot. The door was going to close soon, and she’d be damned if Mordi was going to be trapped in here, too. He’d saved her from that horrible little cell. It was her turn to save him.

“No!” he screamed from the other side of the dirt. In her incapacitated state, she’d never survive with the frenzied Henchmen. Even if he could escape and break back in with a Protector team, it would be too late. “I’m not leaving you. You’re either coming out with me or I’m staying with you, but
I am not leaving without you.
Do you understand me?”

She did. She’d known he loved her; she’d read it in his soul. But now she knew what love meant to Mordi. He would die for her ... and she wasn’t about to let that happen. She didn’t know what they could do, but she was willing to try anything.

Above her, Mordi’s eyes and head emerged at the top of the rock pile. And just seeing him gave her hope.

She flashed him a smile. “You’re crazy, but okay. What do you want me to do?”

“That’s my girl,” he said as she kicked once again at the Henchman’s gut. He dug his way through the dirt. “I’m going to burn that Henchman, and when I do, you need to jerk free and scramble here faster than you’ve ever run before.”

She nodded. “I can do that,” she told herself. The thing made another grab for her waist, and she kicked again, once more feeling her foot sink into something the consistency of Jello. Sweet Hera, these creatures were disgusting.

“There’s one other thing,” he said.

“Why—”

Kick.

“—am I not—”

Kick, kick.

“—surprised?”

Kick!

The Henchman’s slimy grip loosened around her thigh, though it still had a tight hold on her ankle. “Okay,” she said. “What?”

“The door.”

Cold filled her. She loved Mordi. She could no longer read him. But even so, she knew exactly what he was going to say. “What about the door?”

“Can you see it? We have to make it hold a bit longer. Take a good look before you run, and hold it in your mind. Once that ice melts, I need you to help levitate it. I can’t do it on my own, and I’m still weak from my Zephron impersonation a few hours ago. And I’m going to need much of my strength for the fire.”

Sweet Hera
, she’d been afraid of this.

She drew in a breath, started to speak, then stopped. How could she tell the man she loved he was about to give up his life with her? She couldn’t.

She
wouldn’t
.

He was right. There was no other way. They’d either manage it—
she’d
manage it—or they wouldn’t. And as foolhardy as it seemed, with Mordi’s love to bolster her, she felt stronger than ever.

Just to prove it, she walloped the Henchman good. She even managed to free herself, and just as she was about to yell to Mordi that it was okay, that they didn’t need his fire and he could hold the door open, two things happened at once: The ice holding the mechanism melted, and five other Henchmen pounced on her.