Betrayed (33 page)

Tonight I was not dealing with normal circumstances.

The ten o'clock news had said the roads were impassable, and that had been—I checked my watch and blinked in surprise—a couple hours ago. I couldn't drive there. I suppose I could walk, but the urgency I felt was telling me that wasn't good enough.

“Take the horse.”

Persephone and I both shied at the sound of Aphrodite's voice. She was leaning against the stall door looking pale and grim.

“You look like crap,” I said.

She almost smiled. “Visions suck.”

“Did you see Heath?” My stomach clenched again. Aphrodite didn't have visions of happiness and light. She saw death and destruction. Always.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And if you don't get on that horse and get your ass to wherever he is, Heath is going to die.” She paused, meeting my eyes. “That is, unless you don't believe me.”

“I believe you,” I said without hesitation.

“Then get the hell out of here.”

She came into the stall and handed me a bridle I hadn't noticed she'd been holding. While I put it on Persephone, Aphrodite disappeared to come back with a saddle and saddle blanket. Silently, we put the tack on Persephone, who seemed to sense our intensity because she held completely still. When she was ready I led her from the stall.

“Call your friends first,” Aphrodite said.

“Huh?”

“You can't beat those things on your own.”

“But how are they going to go with me?” My stomach hurt, I was so scared my hands were shaking, and I was having trouble understanding what the hell Aphrodite was saying.

“They can't go with you, but they can still help you.”

“Aphrodite, I don't have time for riddles. What the hell do you mean?”

“Shit, I don't know!” She looked as frustrated as I felt. “I just know that they can help you.”

I flipped open my cell phone and, following my gut and breathing a silent prayer for guidance from Nyx, punched Shaunee's number. She answered on the first ring.

“What's up, Zoey?”

“I need you and Erin and Damien to go somewhere together and call to your elements, like you did for Stevie Rae.”

“No problem. Are you gonna meet us?”

“No. I'm going to get Heath.” To her credit, Shaunee hesitated for only a second or two, then said, “Okay. What can we do?”

“Just be together, manifest your elements, and think about me.” I was getting really good at sounding calm even when I thought my head might explode.

“Zoey, be careful.”

“I will. Don't worry.” Yeah, I'd worry enough for both of us.

“Erik isn't going to like this.”

“I know. Tell him . . . tell him . . . that I'll, uh, talk to him when I get back.” I had not a clue about what else to say.

“Okay, I'll tell him.”

“Thanks, Shaunee. I'll see ya,” I said and closed the phone. Then I faced Aphrodite. “What are those creatures?”

“I don't know.”

“But you saw them in your vision?”

“Today was the second vision I had about them, though. The first time I saw the other two guys being killed by them.” Aphrodite brushed a thick strand of blond hair from her face.

Instantly I was pissed. “And you didn't say anything about it because they're
just
human teenagers and not worth your time to save?”

Aphrodite's eyes blazed with anger. “I told Neferet. I told her everything—about the human kids—about those
things
—everything. That's when she started saying my visions were false.”

I knew she was telling the truth, just as surely as I had begun to know that there was something dark about Neferet.

“Sorry,” I said shortly. “I didn't know.”

“Whatever,” she said. “You need to get out of here or your boyfriend is going to die.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” I said.

“Again I say whatever. Here, I'll give you a leg up.”

I let her hoist me into the saddle.

“Take this with you.” Aphrodite handed me a thick, plaid horse blanket. Before I could protest she said, “It's not for you. He'll need it.”

I wrapped the blanket around me, taking comfort in its earthy, horsey smell. I followed as Aphrodite went to the rear doors of the stable and slid them apart. Frigid air and snow swirled in little mini-tornadoes into the barn, making me shiver, although it was more from nerves and apprehension than from the cold.

“Stevie Rae's one of them,” Aphrodite said.

I looked down at her, but she was staring out into the night.

“I know,” I said.

“She's not who she used to be.”

“I know,” I repeated, even though saying the words aloud hurt my heart. “Thanks for this, Aphrodite.”

She did look up at me then and her expression was flat and unreadable. “Don't start acting like we're friends or anything,” she said.

“Wouldn't think of it,” I said.

“I mean, we're not friends.”

“Nope, definitely not.” I was pretty sure I saw her trying not to smile.

“As long as we have that straight,” Aphrodite said. “Oh,” she added. “Remember to pull silence and darkness around yourself so humans will have a hard time seeing you on the way there. You don't have time to be stopped.”

“Will do. Thanks for reminding me,” I said.

“Okay, well, good luck,” Aphrodite said.

I gripped the reins, took a deep breath, and then squeezed my thighs together, clucking at Persephone to go.

I entered a world that was weirdly made of white darkness. Whiteout was definitely the right description of it. The snow had changed from big, friendly flakes to sharp little razorlike pieces of snow-ice. The wind was steady, making the snow slant sideways. I pulled the blanket over my head so that I was partially protected from the snow and leaned forward, kicking Persephone into a quick trot.
Hurry!
My mind was yelling at me.
Heath needs you!

I cut across the parking lot and rear part of the school grounds. The few cars still at school were covered with snow, and the flickering gaslights that shined crazily off of their backs made them look like june bugs on a screen door. I pressed the inside button for the gate to open. It tried to swing wide, but a snowdrift caught it and Persephone and I had barely enough room to squeeze through. I turned her to the right and stood for a moment under the cover of the oaks that framed the school grounds.

“We're silent . . . ghosts . . . no one can see us. No one can hear us.” I murmured against the whining wind, and was shocked when the area around me stilled. With a sudden thought I continued. “Wind, be calm near me. Fire, warm my way. Water, still the snow in my path. Earth, shelter me when you can. And spirit, help me not to give in to my fear.” The words were barely out of my mouth when I saw a little flash of energy around me. Persephone snorted and she skittered a little to the side. And as she moved it was like a little bubble of serenity moved with her. Yes, it was still blizzarding and the night was still cold and frighteningly alien, but I was filled with calm and surrounded by the protection of the elements. I bowed my head and whispered, “Thank you, Nyx, for the great gifts you have given me.” Silently I added that I hoped I deserved them.

“Let's get Heath,” I told Persephone. She swung into her ground-eating canter easily and I was amazed to see that the snow and ice seemed to fly back from her hooves as we magically blasted through the night under the watchful eye of the Goddess who was, herself, Night personified.

My journey was surprisingly fast. We cantered down Utica Street until we came to the exit to the Broken Arrow Expressway. Barricades were up with flashing lights warning that the expressway was closed. I felt myself smiling as I guided Persephone neatly around the barricades onto the utterly deserted highway. Then I gave the mare her head and she galloped downtown. I clung to her, leaning low over her neck. With the blanket streaming out behind us I imagined that I looked like the heroine in an old historical romance novel, and wished I was galloping to a naughty keg party with someone my kingly father had decided was inappropriate instead of heading into hell.

I steered Persephone to the exit that would take us to the Performing Arts Center and the old depot beyond it. I hadn't seen anyone between midtown and the highway, but now I saw occasional shufflings of street people around the bus station and noticed an occasional cop car here and there.
We're silent . . . ghosts . . . no one can see us. No one can hear us
. I kept the prayer going in my mind. No one so much as glanced in our direction. It really was as if I'd turned into a ghost, which wasn't a thought I found very comforting.

I slowed Persephone as we passed the Performing Arts Center and trotted over the wide bridge that spanned the confusing side-by-side meshing of old railroad tracks. When we reached the center of the bridge I stopped Persephone and stared down at the abandoned depot building that sat below us dark and silent. Thanks to Mrs. Brown, my ex-art teacher at South Intermediate High School, I knew it used to be a beautiful art deco building that had been abandoned and eventually looted when the trains stopped running. Now it looked like something that should be in the Gotham City of the Batman Dark Night comics. (Yes, I know. I'm a dork.) It had those huge arched windows that reminded me of teeth between two towers that looked like perfectly creepy haunted castles.

“And we have to go down there,” I told Persephone. She was breathing hard from our ride, but she didn't seem particularly worried, which I hoped was a good sign. You know, animals being able to sense bad stuff and all.

We finished crossing the bridge and I found the broken little side road that led down to the depot. The track level was dark. Really dark. That shouldn't have bothered me, what with my excellent fledgling night vision, but it did. The truth was that I was totally creeped out as Persephone walked to the building and I began slowly circling it, looking for the basement entrance Heath had described.

It didn't take long to find the rusted iron grill that appeared to be an impassable barrier. I didn't let myself hesitate and think about how completely afraid I was. I got off Persephone and led her over to the covered entryway so she'd be out of the wind and protected from most of the snow. I looped her reins around a metal thingie, laid the extra blanket over her back, and spent as long as I could patting her and telling her what a brave, sweet girl she was and that I'd be back real soon. I was working toward that self-fulfilling prophecy thing, and hoped if I kept saying it, it would be true. Walking away from Persephone was hard. I guess I hadn't realized how comforting her presence had been. I could have used some of that comfort as I stood in front of the iron grill and tried to squint into the darkness beyond.

I couldn't see anything except the indistinct shape of a huge dark room. The basement of the creepy unfortunately-not-abandoned building. Great.
Heath is down there
, I reminded myself, grabbed the edge of the grill, and pulled. It opened easily, which I took to be evidence of how often it must be used. Again, great.

The basement was not as awful as I'd imagined it would be. Stripes of weak light filtered between the barred, ground-level windows and I could clearly see that homeless people must have been using the room. Actually, there was a lot of stuff left from them: big boxes, dirty blankets, even a shopping cart (Who knows how they managed to get that down there?). But, weirdly, not one homeless person was present. It was like a homeless ghost town, which was doubly weird when I considered the weather. Wouldn't tonight be the perfect night to retreat to the comparative warmth and shelter of this basement, versus trying to find someplace warm and dry on the streets or smush into the Y? And it had been snowing for days. So, realistically, this room should be packed with the people who had brought the boxes and stuff down here to begin with.

Of course if scary undead creatures had been using the basement the desertion of the homeless folks made much more sense.

Don't think about it. Find the drainage grate and then find Heath
.

The grate wasn't hard to find. I just headed for the darkest, nastiest corner of the room, and there was a metal grate on the floor. Yep. Right in the corner. On the floor. Never, in a gazillion years would I have ever even considered touching the disgusting thing, let along lifting it and going down there.

Naturally, that's what I had to do.

The grate lifted as easily as the outside “barrier” had opened, telling me (again) that I wasn't the only person/fledgling/human/ creature who had come this way recently. There was an iron ladder thing that I had to climb down, probably about ten feet. Then I dropped to the floor of the tunnel. And that's exactly what it was—a big, damp sewer tunnel. Oh, and it was dark, too. Really dark. I stood there for a while letting my night vision accustom itself to the dense darkness, but I couldn't just stand there for very long. The need to find Heath was like an itch beneath my skin. It goaded me on.

“Keep to the right,” I whispered. Then I shut up because even that little sound echoed around me. I turned to the right and started to walk as quickly as I was able.

Heath had been telling the truth. There were lots of tunnels. They split off over and over again, reminding me of worm holes burrowed into the ground. At first I saw more evidence that homeless people had been down here, too. But after a few righthand turns, the boxes and scattered trash and blankets stopped. There was nothing but damp and dark. The tunnels had gone from being smooth and round and as civilized as I imagined well-made tunnels could be to absolute crap. The sides of the walls looked like they had been gouged out by very drunk Tolkien dwarfs (again, I am aware that I'm a dork). It was cold, too, but I didn't really feel it.