Hades (28 page)

powder covered my face, giving my natural y pale skin a

sun-kissed look. Earrings in the shape of giant fans hung

from my ears and the false lashes Asia had glued above

my own tickled when I closed my eyes. She had even

sprayed my legs with fake tan from a golden bottle and I

smel ed like a giant coconut.

My

transformation

appeared

to

render

Tucker

speechless. “Beth, is that you under there?” he said. “You

look … um … very …”

“Quit your drooling, farm boy,” Asia snapped. “Now let’s

make tracks.”

“You’re coming?” he asked.

“Sure. Why not? You got a problem with that?” Asia’s

eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“No problem at al ,” Tucker said. He looked at me

meaningful y, concluding that this must be Jake’s idea of an

insurance policy.

When the three of us left the penthouse suite and came

down to the lobby, everybody stopped to watch us in

unison.

My new attire may not have felt right for an angel, but it

did make me feel better equipped to cope with the dangers

that might be waiting in the murky tunnels of Hades. I was

keen to get going and start my search for the elusive

portals. I knew it was dangerous, but for once I wasn’t

intimidated. I felt as if I’d been kept in the dark, both literal y

and metaphorical y, for weeks.

I purposely ignored the appreciative smiles from the hotel

staff as we sailed out of the revolving doors. I was fast

learning that manners and friendliness weren’t the way to

go if I wanted to gain any respect in Hades. Outside a

uniformed doorman tipped his hat and signaled to a long

black limousine that crawled silently up to col ect us.

“Mr. Thorn ordered a car for you,” the doorman

announced.

“How thoughtful of him,” I said grudgingly as I slid into the

backseat with Tucker. Even when he wasn’t there Jake

liked to keep a tight hold of the reins.

Asia sat up front. The driver appeared to know her and

they chatted briefly about mutual contacts. From behind the

partition of tinted glass, Tucker and I caught muffled

fragments of their conversation.

“Stay close at Hex,” Tucker advised. “I’m told it draws an

interesting crowd.” I didn’t ask for his definition of

interesting. I would soon find out for myself.

The club district of Hades was very different from where

Hotel Ambrosia was located. The hotel appeared to be in a

more remote area while the club district was a maze of

tunnels with metal doors set in concrete wal s. The

bouncers guarding the entrances looked like clones with

their crew cuts and expressionless faces. The way the

music spil ed out with its rhythmic beat made you feel like

the place had a heartbeat of its own. The effect was

claustrophobic.

Club Hex was located at some distance from the others,

accessible via a separate tunnel. When Asia flashed her

pass I realized entry here was by invitation only. Once

inside I understood why. The first thing I noticed was the

scent of expensive cigars in the air. Hex wasn’t so much a

nightclub as a gaming room for the Hades’ elite to wile

away their time. Its main patrons were high-ranking demons

of both sexes. They al moved with the agility of panthers

and shared a preoccupation with vanity, which was

evidenced by their glamorous attire. Not al of them were

demons. Some I could see were human—not souls, but

flesh and blood, like Hanna and Tuck. I understood without

having to ask that they were there for the express purpose

of pleasuring their masters.

The club’s decor with its baroque flavor was dramatic

and suggested the opulence of a long-gone era. There

were classical statues, marble pil ars, chairs richly

upholstered in black velvet, swags of silk curtains and

ornate, carved mirrors on every wal . I recognized the song

that filtered through the speakers in the ceiling. I’d heard it

before in Xavier’s car although it seemed much more fitting

here:
“I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the

way. I see earthquakes and lightnin’. I see bad times

today.”

Some guests sat at smal tables with fringed

lampshades, sipping cocktails and watching pole dancers

wearing what looked like beaded lingerie. At the central

tables the high rol ers were engrossed in various games. I

recognized the more established games, like poker and

roulette, but one cal ed the Lucky Wheel puzzled me at first.

Some half a dozen players sat around a table watching

smal computer screens. The screens showed a mass of

people on a dance floor. Each dancer appeared to be

represented by a different icon on the wheel. The dealer

spun the wheel and the player won if it finished on the icon

they’d chosen. It would have struck me as mindless had I

not seen for myself the torture that lay in store for the

dancers in the pit.

There was nothing secret or clandestine about the

patrons of Club Hex. Behavior that might have been

deemed objectionable on earth was openly flaunted here.

Couples engaged publicly in what could only be described

as foreplay as wel as unashamedly snorting lines of white

powder from countertops and popping pastel-colored pil s

like candy. Some of the demons were rough in handling

their human counterparts and the alarming thing was that

the recipients seemed to enjoy being mistreated. The total

absence of moral parameters was sickening.

I started having doubts about being there at al let alone

seeking out information about portals. The confidence I’d

started out with was fast evaporating.

“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, after al ,” I said,

wavering. Tuck said something in response that I couldn’t

hear above the din of the music. Al eyes turned toward me

when I entered, despite my attempt to blend in and appear

inconspicuous. Some of the demons even sniffed the air as

though they could smel that I didn’t belong. The ones

nearest to us sidled closer, their shark eyes glinting. Tuck

wrapped an arm around my shoulder and steered me

toward the bar, where I hopped onto a stool, thankful for his

protective presence.

Asia ordered us vodka shots. She downed hers in an

instant and slammed her glass down while I sipped

tentatively at mine.

“It’s not cordial, sugar,” she mocked. “Are you
trying
to

draw attention or what?”

I flashed her a defiant look then tipped my head back and

gulped down the contents of my glass. The vodka had no

taste but rather coursed down my throat like liquid fire. I

fol owed her example and slammed down my empty glass

triumphantly before realizing it was a signal for the

bartender to refil it. I left the second glass untouched. My

head was already swimming and Tucker was glaring at me.

Then Asia said something that came out of the blue and

caught both of us by surprise.

“I think I can help you find what you’re looking for.”

“We’re just here to have some fun,” Tuck said once he’d

recovered.

“Sure you are. I can tel by that look on your face,”

sneered Asia. “Cut the crap, Tucker. It’s me you’re talking

to. I know what you want and I may have a contact who can

offer some advice.”

“You’re helping us?” I asked bluntly. “Why?”

Asia’s tone was condescending. “Wel , I’d rather not help

you, but his majesty appears to have developed a

schoolboy crush, which some would cal downright

embarrassing. I feel it’s my duty as a loyal subject to do

what I can to help him get over it. And I figure the best way

to do that—”

“Is by getting Beth the hel out of here,” Tucker finished for

her as if it made perfect sense.

“Exactly.” Asia directed her attention to me. “Believe me,

I never do anything that doesn’t benefit me and right now I’d

love nothing more than to see the back of you. Hopeful y

before any real damage is done to the Third Circle.”

I remembered Hanna mentioning the Third Circle back

when I’d arrived, but I didn’t understand why it was under

threat.

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“Asia’s referrin’ to the rebel faction that wants to see

Jake brought down,” Tuck explained. “They feel he’s been

neglectin’ his duties of late.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said. “How can a faction of demons

plot against their leader?”

Asia rol ed her eyes. “Jake isn’t just a demon, he’s a

fal en angel. He’s one of the Originals, the ones who fel

with Big Daddy right from the very beginning. There are

eight of them, the Eight Princes of the Eight Circles. Of

course, Lucifer himself presides over the ninth … the

hottest circle of Hel .”

“So if there were only eight original demons,” I said

slowly, “al the others must have been created by them.”

“Oh, wow,” Asia said mockingly. “Not just a pretty face.

Yes, the Originals run the show. The other demons have no

real control, they’re disposable, nothing but worker bees.

The favored ones are assigned to the torture chambers or

invited into the beds of the power players. Sometimes they

band together to try and overthrow one of the Originals.

Course, they always fail.”

“What if they were found out?” I asked.

“Jake would slaughter them al .”

“There ain’t nothing the Originals won’t do to protect

themselves,” Tucker said. “Jake more than anyone.”

“So how does this rebel faction plan to overthrow him?” I

asked.

“They don’t do much,” Asia shrugged. “They’re idiots

mostly, waiting around for a chance to damage his power.”

“I thought you were his biggest supporter,” I said, trying to

keep my voice level. Maybe we could bargain with Asia

after al . “Why haven’t you told him about this?”

“It never hurts to keep a few things to yourself,” Asia said.

“Are the rebels angry with Jake because of me?” I asked.

“Yep.” Asia threw up her hands. “They’ve expressed their

concerns but Jake won’t listen.” She sneered at me.

“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.”

“Aren’t you putting yourself in danger by helping us?”

“Haven’t you heard the expression ‘Hel hath no fury like a

woman scorned’? Let’s just say my ego is wounded.”

“Can you tel us what you know about the portals?”

Tucker asked.

“I didn’t say I knew anything. But there is someone out

back who might. His name’s Asher.”

Heavy drapery across a back wal led to an al eyway

where a demon in an Italian suit was waiting for us. Asher

turned out to be in his mid-thirties. He was tal with dark hair

cropped close and a face like a Roman emperor. A cowlick

fel across his forehead and there were pockmarks on his

cheeks. He was chewing on a toothpick, unaware that he

looked like a cliche from a gangster movie. His nose was

slightly hooked and he had the same flat shark eyes that

identified him as a demon. He was leaning against the wal

but moved graceful y forward upon seeing us. He looked

me up and down; his curiosity quickly replaced by

disapproval.

“That outfit isn’t fooling anyone, sweetheart,” he said.

“You don’t belong here.”

“Wel , at least we agree on one thing,” I replied. “Are you

with the rebels?”

“Sure am,” Asher said. “And I’ve got exactly two minutes

so listen up. What you’re looking for you won’t find in this

district. The portals take many forms, but the one I’ve heard

most about is in the Wasteland, outside the tunnels.”

“I didn’t know there was anything beyond the tunnels,” I

said.

“Course there is,” Asher sneered at me. “Nothing living of

course. Only lost souls roaming until the trackers drag them

back.”

“How wil we recognize it?”

“The portal? Look for the tumbleweed drifting back and

forth across the Wasteland. When you leave here head

south and keep going. You’l know when you find it … if you

make it that far.”

“How do I know we can trust you?” I asked.

“Because I want to see Jake burn as much as you do. He

treats us like dirt and we’re sick of it. If he loses his

conquest so soon, his power wil be chal enged and we

might have a chance of overthrowing him.”