Blue-Blooded Vamp (38 page)

T
all pine trees rose like old gods from primordial soil. The air was scented with the dark perfume of damp earth, pine needles, and the pleasing brackish tang of lake water. Silence reigned except for the occasional soft lapping of water against rock.

Lago D’Averno was located in southern Italy, near the town of Pozzuoli. According to Nyx, the lake was sacred to the Romans, who believed it to be the entrance to Hades, their version of the underworld. “But the modern history of the area is interesting as well. Last year, the Italian government seized the lake from a private owner because of Mafia activity.”

“Oh?” Giguhl piped up. “Like what?”

“It was a hideout for their hit men and their drug-fueled parties. They also found evidence of several executions on the site.”

“That’s pretty awesome,” Giguhl said, shooting me an excited look.

That certainly explained the heavy death energy in the air. I hefted the bag of supplies higher on my shoulder. “Let’s get moving.”

Because it was the new moon, the night was spectacularly dark. But instead of feeling like a bad omen, it felt… comforting. I suppose it should. After all, in addition to being a Chthonic mage, I was also a vampire. Night was my kingdom.

Recent rains left the earth muddy and our feet sank into this ooze, masking our footsteps. Tristan led us through the tree line and we emerged on the banks of the lake. The body of water was formed in an old volcanic crater and was almost perfectly round. I stopped, listening for signs of trouble, but the area was quiet. Too quiet.

“Why is it so calm?”

“
Avernus
means ‘without birds.’ It’s believed most wildlife avoids the lake because of volcanic fumes,” Tristan said. “But I think they avoid it because they know this place is full of dark, heavy magic.”

“Where’s this grotto?”

He waved a hand over his shoulder to indicate we should follow him. We climbed down the banks of the lake and trekked a couple of miles. Probably this area was a draw for tourists during the day, but now it was closed and we had the run of the place.

Eventually, we found the entrance to the grotto. It stood at the end of a pathway lined on either side by towering trees. Cut into a tall rock wall, the entrance looked like a large keyhole—or the entrance to a womb.

When we reached the opening, Tristan held up a hand to still us. “Sabina must go in alone. She will summon Hekate and make the proper offerings. Once they have set off, we will follow.”

“Wait.” I shot Tristan a panicked look. “I thought you were going with me?”

“We’ll be behind you,” he said. “But only you can open the gates.” He motioned to Giguhl. “She’ll need the bag.”

Not for the first time, I wished Rhea were with us. She’d said her good-byes in Tuscany before we’d headed out. She’d wanted to come, but we’d all decided that if the worst should happen, she needed to be alive to lead the mage race. The good-bye was tearful and hard, but I was relieved that she, at least, would be safe.

Giguhl came forward quietly and handed over the sack containing all the items we’d collected for the rites. His face was solemn as he surrendered it to Tristan.

I forced a smile. “Thanks, G.” He laid a massive claw on my shoulder and squeezed.

“If you run into trouble, summon me. Remember that.”

Part of the plan was to send Valva and Giguhl ahead to the demon realms to wait for us. It would be too much of an energy drain to maintain our hold on them in the nondemon areas, since their bodies would be pulled back to Gizal and Zigal like magnets.

I blinked against the sudden sting in my eyes. “I will.”

He hugged me hard. “I’m ready.”

I pulled back with a sniff and looked at Valva. “Stay with him.”

She smiled and put her arm around Giguhl’s waist. “Absolutely. We’ll see you in Gizal.”

I took a deep breath and muttered the incantation to send Giguhl back to his home. The instant before he disappeared, he winked at me. Valva disappeared a split second after Giguhl. Since she was a Lilitu demon, she could move between the mortal realm and Irkalla of her own will.

“Adam,” Tristan called. “Come help her prepare while I help Calyx and Horus set up a perimeter.” The faery and vampire had met up with us the instant we materialized in the forest. They’d spoken quietly to Tristan to let him know the coast was clear but otherwise had remained
silent. “We don’t want any nasty surprises interrupting the rites.”

I blew out a long, deep breath. We’d gone over all this at the estate before we flashed to the lake. But now, facing the reality, I realized how unprepared I really was for what was coming. After all, Tristan had based his instructions on vague theories and arcane bits of information. The truth was, none of us really knew what was waiting for us in Irkalla—that is, if we could get there at all.

Adam came forward, taking the bag from Tristan. “How you doing?” he whispered.

I choked on an ironic laugh. “Peachy.”

He placed a warm palm on my suddenly cold cheek. “You’re gonna do great. Soon this will all be over and we can go on a nice long vacation. Just the two of us.”

“You promise?” The tears were more insistent now. Neither of us expected to come through this intact. We’d danced around that issue, but neither of us had spoken the words out loud. I’d never met Lilith in person, but her reputation didn’t leave me feeling very confident I’d escape this confrontation unscathed.

He looked me dead in the eye. “Sabina Kane, I promise with every fiber of my being that we will be together. Nothing above or below this earth will keep me from you.” He kissed the ring he’d given me the night before.

His vow caused a shudder to pass through me, like a spell had been cast. I returned his clear-eyed stare and repeated the words. “Adam Lazarus, I promise with every fiber of my being that we will be together. Nothing above or below this earth will keep me from you. Even if death separates us, I will always be yours.”

His eyes flared at my impromptu addition. “If death separates us, I will always be yours,” he echoed in a whisper.

I grabbed him and pulled him to me. More than anything, I wanted his words to be true. More than that, I needed his strength against me. Needed my last sensation on this mortal realm to be his scent, his heat, the taste of his lips.

Despite our promises, we kissed like we’d never see each other again. “I love you,” I whispered against his lips.

If Tristan or the others were uncomfortable by the display, they didn’t react. No uncomfortable clearing of throats or shuffling of boots or claws. Eventually, though, Nyx whispered gently, “It’s almost midnight.”

I pressed my lips against Adam’s once, twice, three times to sanctify my vows. Then, with tears blurring my vision, I pulled away so he could dress me. As he bent to open the bag, his free hand swiped at his eyes. I didn’t bother trying to remove the tears from my eyes or face. Salt and strong emotions were great conductors of magic. They’d strengthen the ritual. And I needed every advantage I could get.

The gun belt had been a gift from Nyx. The twin pistols had mother-of-pearl inlaid in the handles. Adam had provided the apple bullets. Next, he added a few protective amulets. They clinked against the priestess necklaces and the lodestone necklace Zen had given me. I suddenly felt like Mr. T, but I wasn’t about to reject any of the magical weapons.

Finally, Adam finished loading me down with weaponry. “You look like a warrior queen.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. Truthfully, with each new item, I felt my resolve strengthen.

“Here goes nothing.” I took a deep, calming breath. Ahead, the entrance to the Oracle’s cave yawned open like a demon’s maw, waiting to swallow me into the abyss. A hush
had fallen over the crew, their tension palpable against my skin. I accepted a torch from Tristan, as well as two unlit ones to use later, which I stuck in my pack. He offered me a facsimile of a reassuring smile but said nothing. What was there to say, really? Good luck? Hope you don’t get killed?

“Don’t fuck it up,” he said finally.

I bit my tongue against an angry retort. “Yeah, thanks.”

I stepped into darkness alone. The air here was musty, noticeably colder. My footsteps echoed off the ancient stone walls in time with my thudding heart. Every dozen or so steps, an opening in the wall let in a breeze off the lake. The air whistled through the corridor, like dire predictions from Sybil herself.

One opening led to a small, dank room. Steps down took me to a natural bridge made of stone. Dark, oily water stood on either side. Time and moisture had promoted algae, which spread across the top like a cancer. I realized this must have been the ritual cleansing area Nyx had warned me about.

As the vampire had instructed me, I dipped my fingers into the water. It was thick and smelled terrible, like sour dishrags and mold. I ignored my gag reflex and touched my fingertips to my forehead. As I did, I whispered a prayer to Sybil, thanking her for allowing me to enter her sacred space.

I exited the bathing chamber and continued down the corridor. At the end, a large room opened up. High, arched ceilings rose overhead. Besides the main space, two side niches were bathed in shadow. Low stone benches had been carved into the walls. But straight ahead, a conspicuously bare space must have once held the Oracle’s throne.

Just in front of the empty spot, in the center of the main room, sat the charred remains of an ancient fire. I lowered the torch for a closer look. Among the burned wood and ashes, small animal bones bore evidence to past sacrifices. A shudder passed through me. Would Hekate demand a sacrifice? If so, it was a good bet that the powerful goddess would demand something more powerful as a tribute—a blood sacrifice.

I seated the torch into a rusted metal bracket on the wall and began removing supplies from the pack Adam had given me. First, I spread out a black cloth in front of the old fire pit. On that I placed the
amphiphon
cakes Rhea and I had baked. I removed the black candles and placed three in each cake. Once they were lit, I laid out a flagon of red wine and a plate of almonds. I placed a yew twig, sprigs of lavender, and fragrant verbena along the top and edges of the cloth. Last, I removed the three large black pillar candles. These I poked into the earth, each flame representing the points of a triangle.

My preparations made, I retreated toward the doorway and sat. Crossing my legs into lotus position, I placed my upturned palms on my knees and closed my eyes.

“Sovereign Goddess of Many Names, Goddess of Magic, Queen of Crossroads, Lady of the Underworld, Hekate, I invoke and implore thee, reveal your almighty form to my undeserving eyes.”

A hot wind swirled through the chamber. The air echoed with warped whispers from another plane. I swallowed against the pressure building in my chest and continued my prayer. “Goddess of the Gateway, hear my prayer, heed my call, accept my humble offerings. Torchbearer, light my way, show me the entrance I seek. Hekate, I invoke thee three times three.”

The wind blew faster, harder. Even as the barometric pressure dropped, magic rose. At first, a prickle against my skin, then deeper. The blood in my veins sizzled, my stomach cramped, my heart galloped. My breath came in short bursts as my lungs struggled against the pressure. The power thrust up through me, forcing my eyes open.

A cyclone of black light formed in the center of the candles. The fires danced in the wind. Then, as quickly as the winds rose, they died. My ears buzzed from the sudden silence. I blinked and stared at the empty space between the flames.

I looked around, wondering what I’d done wrong. Had I angered the goddess? Forgotten a step? I looked right first, into the shadows of the side niche. Nothing. A low screech echoed through the chamber. A chill crawled over my skin. Turning my head slowly left, I saw two red eyes starting at me from the darkness.

I froze. Dear gods, what had I summoned by accident?

A large white owl flew out of the darkness. My heart stopped.

“Stryx?” I whispered. With achingly slow movements, I rose, not wanting to antagonize the vampire owl.

“Relax, Mixed-Blood. The owl means you no harm.”

If power had a voice, I’d just heard it. The tone was low but resonated with unmistakable authority. The owl stopped its circling and landed on a stone perch near the ceiling. I watched it out of the corner of my eye.

Twin lights ignited inside the niche.

I fell to my knees.

Snowy hair rose and swirled around her head like the halo of a fallen angel. Just above her brow, a crown depicting a full moon and waxing and waning crescents glowed. A black Hekate’s Wheel—like the one all mages bore on
their bodies—was branded into her forehead. Her irises were full black, like ebony marbles. She wore black robes and carried a black lacquered staff covered in arcane symbols.

I’d summoned this goddess’s powers on many occasions. I knew the dark potency of her energy. Yet, seeing the goddess in the flesh terrified me. This was no minor god, like Asclepius, that I could outsmart or challenge. Hekate could end me with a passing thought.