Hades (14 page)

bloody pulp. Only then did he hurl the knife aside and his

wife’s limp body slipped from his grasp. Her eyes were

wide and staring, cheeks flecked with her own blood. As

soon as she hit the tiles on the floor, she vanished and the

kitchen disappeared with her.

I cowered in a corner, my breath in my throat, trying to

stop my hands from shaking. This was one scene I would

not forget in a hurry. The man looked dazed, turning in

circles, and for a dreadful moment I thought he’d become

aware of my presence. But then the woman reappeared

before him, whole and untouched.

“No more lies. I know everything,” she said.

It was as if someone had hit replay on a movie. I realized

the whole grisly scene was about to be repeated before my

eyes. Those involved were doomed to relive it infinitely. The

other figures scattered around me were each reliving their

own crimes of the past: murder, rape, assault, adultery,

theft, betrayal. The list seemed endless.

I’d always interacted with the concept of evil on a

philosophical level. Now I felt as though it was al around

me, palpable and real. I ran blindly back the way I’d come

without stopping. There were times when I felt things

brushing past me or catching at the hem of my dress, but I

shook myself free and kept running. I only stopped when I

thought another step would cause my lungs to col apse.

I knew I’d lost my way because the tunnels had vanished.

I was now standing in wide-open space. In the ground

ahead lay a crater-like opening rimmed with fiery embers. I

couldn’t see what was going on inside, but I could hear

tortured shouts and screams. I’d never seen anything even

remotely like it, so why did it feel so oddly familiar?
The

lake of fire awaits, my lady.
Could this be the place

referred to in the cryptic note I’d found jammed in my locker

al those months ago? I knew I shouldn’t approach. I knew

the right thing to do was turn around and find my way back

to Hotel Ambrosia, even if it was my prison. Whatever

lurked in this place was not something I was ready to

witness. So far Hades had been a surreal world made up of

underground tunnels, shady nightclubs, and an empty hotel.

But as I took my first tentative steps toward the fiery pit, I

knew this was going to be different.

The indescribable wailing of the occupants reached me

before I was even close. I’d always thought medieval

depictions of Hel with its twisted bodies and instruments of

torture were nothing but a device designed to frighten and

control an ignorant populace. But now I knew the stories

were true.

It wasn’t easy to make out what was happening through

the ruby glow that emanated from the pit, but there were

clearly two distinct groups, the tormented and their

tormentors. The tormentors wore leather harnesses and

boots. Some wore hoods like executioners. The tormented

were either naked or in rags. From the earthen wal s hung

an array of metal devices designed to inflict pain. My eyes

traveled over the saws, branding irons, and rusty pliers. At

ground level were vats of boiling oil, a dunking device, and

hot coals. There were bodies chained to posts, hanging

from rafters, and strapped into cruel devices. The souls

writhed and screamed as the torturers relentlessly

continued their devilish work. I watched them drag a naked

man across the ground and force him into a brass coffin,

bolting the lid shut. They slid the coffin into an oven and I

watched as it slowly heated up, glowing orange and then

red. From inside came muffled screams of agony, which

seemed to amuse the demons. Another man was tied to a

post with ropes, his eyes turned upward in supplication. At

first I didn’t realize that the yel ow sheath flapping from his

thigh like washing on a line was his own skin. He was being

flayed alive.

The images that flashed before me were of blood and

torn flesh and festering wounds. I could watch for only a few

seconds before the bile started to rise in my throat. I threw

myself onto the dry, cracked ground and covered my ears.

The smel and the sound were both unbearable. I began

crawling away on my hands and knees, not trusting myself

to walk upright without passing out.

I’d only crawled a few meters through the dust when a

boot crunched down on my hand. I looked up to see myself

surrounded by three whip-wielding tormentors who had

noticed my arrival. There was nothing recognizably human

in their pitiless faces. There was a rattling of chains when

they moved but closer inspection revealed them to be no

older than schoolboys. It was incongruous seeing such

cruelty on their perfect faces.

“Looks like we have a visitor,” said one, prodding me

with the heel of his boot. His voice was musical and laced

with a Spanish accent. He moved his foot and used it to lift

up the hem of my dress, exposing my legs. The tip of his

boot was traveling uncomfortably high.

“She’s hot,” grunted his companion.

“Hot or not, it ain’t polite to go wandering around

restricted areas without an invitation,” the third demon

chimed in. “I say we teach her a lesson.” His eyes glinted

like marbles. He had a pouting mouth and spoke with a lazy

drawl. His shock of fair hair fel over his eyes and sharp

features.

“I get her first,” the other objected. “When I’m done, you

can teach her whatever you like.” He flashed me a grin. He

was stockier than the others and his copper bangs were

blunt. He had a sprinkling of freckles across a porcine

nose.

“Forget it, Yeats,” warned the first boy who had a head

ful of black curls. “Not until we know who sent her.”

Yeats brought his face level with mine. His smal teeth

reminded me of a piranha’s. “What’s a pretty little thing like

you doing wandering these parts alone?”

“I’m lost,” I said shakily. “I’m from Hotel Ambrosia and I’m

Jake’s guest.” I tried to sound important but didn’t dare

meet his gaze.

“Damn.” The blond one sounded annoyed. “She’s with

Jake. I guess we better not mess her up too bad then.”

“I’m not buying it, Nash,” Yeats snapped. “If she was

real y with Jake, she wouldn’t be out here.”

Suddenly my head was reeling. I didn’t think my body

could cope with much more. Yeats looked unimpressed.

“If you’re going to throw up—do it over there. I’ve just had

these boots shined.” I felt my chest heave as I dry retched.

“Come on, get up!” Yeats hauled me to my feet. He

looked triumphantly at the others as his arm encircled my

waist. “What do you say we put you to good use? How do

you feel about an audience?” His hands were rough as they

struggled with the buttons on my bodice.

“If she does belongs to Jake and he finds out, who knows

what he’l do … .” The boy cal ed Nash sounded nervous.

“Shut up,” Yeats said and turned to the first boy. “Diego,

help me hold her down.”

“Get your filthy paws off her,” said a voice so menacing it

could have cut through steel.

Jake materialized out of the shadows. His dark hair was

unbound and, coupled with his furious expression, it gave

him a look of animal-like ferocity. He appeared a good deal

more dangerous than the others. In fact when they stood

side by side, the three youths looked like amateurs or

naughty schoolboys who’d been caught breaking the rules.

In Jake’s presence they lost their cockiness and looked

paralyzed with fear. He seemed to tower over them and

had an air of authority that made them cower. If there were

echelons of power in Hel , this trio must have occupied one

of the lower orders.

“We didn’t know she was, uh … spoken for,” Diego said

apologetical y. “We wouldn’t have touched her otherwise.”

“I tried to tel them she was … ,” Nash began, but Diego

stared him into silence.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood right now,” Jake hissed.

“Now, get out of my sight before I put you on the rack

myself.” They scurried back to the pit from where they’d

come like jackrabbits. Jake offered me his arm as he led

me away. It was the first time I was actual y glad of his

presence.

“So … how much did you see?” he asked.

“Al of it.”

“I did try to warn you,” Jake sounded genuinely sorry.

“Would you like me to try and erase the memories? I’l be

careful not to touch your old ones.”

“No, thank you,” I said numbly. “It was something I needed

to see.”

9

Lake of Dreams

EVERY day that passed without news of Venus Cove

added to my misery.

I could think of nothing but what I was missing in the lives

of those I loved. I knew they must be frantic with worry. Had

they guessed where Jake had taken me or were they ready

to file a missing person’s report? I knew if I were held

hostage anywhere on earth, the divine powers of my

siblings would track me down. But I had no idea if their

radars could reach deep into the core of the earth. When I

thought about my family, I remembered the simplest things;

the way my brother used to experiment in the kitchen,

handling food as though it were art; the way my sister used

to braid my hair with a skil only she possessed. I thought of

Gabriel’s hands and the way they could make any

instrument bow to his wil and Ivy’s river of golden hair.

Mostly I thought of Xavier; the way his eyes crinkled gently

at the corners whenever he smiled; the smel of his car after

we’d eaten burgers and fries in the Chevy overlooking the

ocean. Although I’d only been gone a few days, I grieved for

every moment that passed. Worst of al was that I knew

Xavier would be blaming himself and I couldn’t do anything

to ease his guilt.

Time became my biggest enemy in Hades. On earth it

had been so precious because I didn’t know when it would

run out, but here it was drawn out and immeasurable. The

tedium was the hardest to bear. Not only was I a prisoner in

Jake’s soul ess world, I was also an angel in Hel and

treated with either scorn or morbid curiosity by its elite.

Most of the time I felt like a sideshow freak. There was

something about the place that seemed to eat at me from

the inside like a cancer. It was easy to give into it—stop

thinking, stop fighting—and I could I feel it happening to me.

I was terrified by the idea of waking one day no longer

caring about human suffering or whether I lived or died.

For days after stumbling across the lake of fire and its

associated horrors, I fel into a deep depression. I had little

appetite, but Hanna was patient with me. Jake’s assistant,

Tucker, had been assigned as my personal minder and

was always around though he rarely spoke to me. Together

they became my constant companions.

They were in my room one night as usual, Hanna trying to

coax me into eating a mouthful or two of the broth she’d

prepared and Tucker diverting himself by crushing paper

into bal s and tossing them into the fireplace to watch them

ignite. I pushed away Hanna’s offer of dessert and watched

her face crease into a mask of stress. Tucker looked up

and shook his head at her in tacit communication. Hanna

let out a heavy sigh and set down the dinner tray while

Tucker went back to poking the embers in the fire. I curled

myself into a bal at the end of my bed. The old Bethany