Soul Bound (42 page)

Jace sprinted after them, wet clay covering his shoes, dampening the hem of his pants. They took a ninety-degree turn, leapt out of the tunnel, and entered a circular chamber. Flickering sconces cast shadows on the walls, dancing ghosts guarding dozens of empty prison cells. No, not prison cells. Dungeons.

Jace’s wariness skyrocketed. The stale air smelled of burnt matches and candle wax. “What the hell is this place?” Plumes of steam rose from their mouths to fog up the air.

“This is where the Nephilim once kept their prisoners,” Cal explained. “Souls were stronger back then, whole. The Nephilim had to work much harder to steal them. So they kidnapped their victims, usually children because their essences were the purest, and kept them here, in these cells, until they broke them.”

A moment of silence passed between the Watchers, Cal looking somber, Marcus grave and focused, Regan revolted. She walked into one of the open cells, retrieved a tattered, handmade doll from the corner. “I wonder how long this has been here.”

Cal took the doll from her. “Too long,” he whispered. Sadness swept over his tired face, making him look old and beaten. “We have to keep moving.” His voice betrayed none of the turmoil his face had portrayed only seconds ago.

Before they could venture forward, a change came into the atmosphere. Black energy congealed around them. Jace tunneled his vision, scanning the darkened corners of the catacombs. A group of Kleptopsychs was heading their way.

“They’re coming.” Regan had seen them, too.

Marcus’s sword cleaved the air, his fluid movements matched by all those who stood behind him.

The Watchers took a step forward just as a dozen or so Kleptopsychs burst into the chamber to deliberately block all the exits.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

With a cold, victorious smile, Athanatos lowered his face to Lia’s, pinned her to the headboard, and prepared to administer
the kiss.

She shuddered, jerked back. “No. I won’t give it to you. You can’t take it.” Jace might have given up on her, but she wasn’t ready to give up on him. Not yet.

Athanatos retreated, surprised by her resistance. “You’re trying my patience,” he growled.

He dug his fingers in her hair and brutally crushed her mouth with his, sucking the air from her lungs. Her soul shivered, fought to break free from her body, but she held on to it with nothing more than the power of her will.

She wouldn’t die. Not before she saw Jace one last time. Not before she looked into his eyes and knew for a fact that he’d forsaken her.

Athanatos released her with a violent shove that sent her head slamming into the headboard. “I will win,” he promised. “It’s just a matter of time.”

A rap on the door pried his attention from her. He raised his hand, and the door flew open. “What?” he roared.

One of his guards entered, looking cowed. “We have a situation, my lord.” The creature kept his head bowed and refrained from making eye contact. “There was a flood in the water chamber. Several Kleptopsychs have drowned.”

“Diahann.” The Ancient’s deadpan expression betrayed no emotion, but the cold timbre in his voice could’ve frozen the sun. He turned to the guard. “Get me Kyros. Now.”

The Kleptopsychs closed in on the Watchers, deadly blades raised, and the ding of metal striking metal began to echo through the catacombs. A tall creature with bright red hair and intense black eyes swung his sword at Jace, throwing him off balance. Jace fell on his back, managed to roll out of the way, just as his attacker sliced the air with his blade. Hopping on the balls of his feet, Jace returned the blow. The sword struck the Kleptopsych in the throat. Blood, smoke and white light instantly gushed from the wound, and the creature shriveled and fell.

Two Kleptopsychs charged Regan. Quick as a heartbeat, she vanished and reappeared behind them, cutting them both down.

One by one, their opponents fell, but new ones just as swiftly appeared to take their place. The Watchers were severely outnumbered.

Cal stepped forward and raised his hands. Instantly, their enemies soared to the ceiling, where they remained fixed, as if gravity had ceased to exist.

Jace stared at the guy with blatant awe. If Cal’s powers weren’t what they used to be, he could only imagine what he’d been able to do before they’d waned.

“I can’t hold them for long,” Cal said. “Marcus and Regan, go with Jace. Find Lia. Now.”

Jace was more than happy to comply.

“Hang in there, Lia. I’m coming for you.”

“Hang in there, Lia. I’m coming for you.”

The words resounded in Lia’s head, a soothing mantra, healing what was broken. It had been an eternity since she’d heard Jace, felt him reach out to that part of her that had once belonged to him. Now he was here, so close, telling her to hang on. He hadn’t abandoned her.

But he’d taken Cal’s sacred oath, which meant he was forbidden to love—to kiss her and hold her and make love to her. His place was with the Watchers now, a world that was off limits to her. Still, his nearness reawakened her hope.

In the far left corner of the stodgy room, Athanatos stood conversing with Kyros. They mentioned Diane’s name a couple of times, spoke of the flood in the water chamber, then Kyros said something about a disturbance in the western tunnels.

Athanatos sneered. “The Watchers.”

Kyros nodded. “I’ve sent a group of soldiers to divert them.”

“How did Cal and his dogs gain access to the catacombs? My shields are impenetrable.”

“It looks like they came in through the doorway you opened for me the day I escaped from the Watchers’ complex.”

So Regan was right. That was how he’d made it back to The Beach Palace with the angel’s blood so quickly.

The Ancient’s jaw twitched. “I made sure to seal that entrance.”

“Well, obviously they found a way to gain access to it.” Kyros shot Lia a greedy look, ripe with disgust. “They’re coming for her. They can’t fulfill the prophecy without her. You must hurry and take her light before Cutler can.”

“She’s not ready yet. I need more time.”

“Time is running out. They’re almost upon us.”

Silence stretched, cold and silky. “How much angel’s blood do we have left?”

“Not much,” Kyros replied. “We used nearly two-thirds of our supply at The Beach Palace.”

“Then you’ll just have to make every drop count.”

“I intend to.” Kyros turned to leave.

“Don’t venture too deep into the western tunnels,” the Ancient warned. “I plan to raise an obstacle or two.” He balled his hands into fists, and the entire chamber quaked menacingly.

“Understood.”

As Kyros slunk away, Athanatos lifted his arms, his palms facing the ceiling, his blank gaze riveted on some distant point beyond the walls.

The ground rumbled in response, and Lia grabbed hold of the bed frame to steady herself. Athanatos had forgotten to restore her shackles. Or maybe he simply hadn’t bothered because he figured she was too weak to attempt an escape.

Finding her balance, she crawled out of bed and inched toward the door Kyros had neglected to close. As quietly as her soft-soled shoes allowed, she circled the chamber until Athanatos’s back was to her, then made a beeline for the exit.

The urge to run seized her, but she tamped it down, afraid of drawing the Ancient’s attention. Instead, she carved a steady path toward freedom.

She was almost there, just a few more steps…

The door clunked shut.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Athanatos asked in a saccharine whisper that startled her worse than a scream. “I’m not done with you yet.”

The deeper they got into the Kleptopsychs’ underground world, the more the scene morphed. Clay gave way to stone. Multi-colored pebbles formed mosaics on the gray walls, though Jace couldn’t really make out a pattern. At even intervals, stone columns rose to break the monotony. Each new tunnel mirrored the last, meant to disorient and confuse.

“We’re lost,” Regan moaned. “Marcus, any idea where we’re going?”

Marcus shook his head. “I can’t latch on to anyone. Athanatos’s shields are blocking me.”

The locket in Jace’s hand began to pulse. “I can.” His heartbeat spiked as the internal compass guiding him to Lia kicked in again. “I feel her.”

Taking the lead, he guided the others forward. Again, they crossed an array of prison cells. Most were empty, but a few displayed pyramids erected from piles of carefully stacked bones. From one cell, an artistic arrangement of skulls stared at him through sunken eyes. From another, rows of femurs stood assembled like a jigsaw puzzle.

Over time thousands—no, millions—of humans had fallen prey to his soul-thieving ancestors. These bones were all that remained of them. Even their spirits had been wiped from existence.

Jace trudged through the narrow tunnels, following Lia’s magnetic pull. “We’re close.”

They reached a breach in the wall, a perfect circle, beyond which the stillness grew so deep Jace could hear the blood rushing through his veins in perfect beat with his racing heart.

“In here.” He squeezed through the opening, kept plowing ahead.

Pebbles crunched beneath rubber-soled boots as the others followed suit. Darkness caressed them with clammy fingers. The air grew thick and heavy. A pungent, musty odor saturated the air, laced by the sweet, familiar scent of jasmine.

Lia.

Urgency and anticipation zipped through Jace, and he sprinted through the tunnels. His mind sought out hers, hoping for a connection, but something ran interference. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t make contact with her thoughts. He whispered soft reassurances he wasn’t sure she heard. If only he could hear Lia’s voice in his head, know beyond a doubt that she sensed he was coming for her.

“Wait,” Regan called after him, but he ignored her, guided by obsession and instinct.

The ground grumbled as he careened around a corner. Stone began to rain down around him, striking the earth with thunderous force. Walls crumbled, passageways collapsed, vibrations traveled underfoot, splitting stone in half.

He turned back, searched for Regan and Marcus, but the landscape had shifted. Only rubble encompassed him. Desperate to escape, he clawed his way through the debris with his mind, breaking down molecules until the walls disintegrated. He couldn’t go back. Marcus and Regan were lost to him. But he could move forward. Alone.

He sprinted past the cave-in into the thickening darkness, enveloped by a cloud of dust. He ran until he could run no longer, until all tunnels converged into one. At the end, a gilded door loomed, adorned with disturbing pictures of giants towering over gaunt prisoners who cowered in fear while chained angels mournfully watched the scene from the heavens above.

Jace reached for the handle, turned it. Lia was on the other side, waiting for him. He felt her. But when he swung the door open, all he encountered was a brick wall.

Another one of Athanatos’s tricks.

Concentrating, he focused on the subatomic particles that composed the wall, searched for the harmony within them that would allow him to mold the substance to his will. How he was able to do this he couldn’t explain, but the bricks shimmered and turned porous, undulating like a viscous membrane. Then they vanished altogether.

Beyond the now unobstructed doorway a vast chamber stretched. At its heart, shackled to a four-poster bed was Lia. And beside her, looking smug and surprisingly at ease, stood the very creature determined to destroy her.

Chapter Forty

Powerful hands yanked Regan back as thick slabs of rock cleaved the air to shatter at her feet. Others quickly followed, and within seconds they were trapped.

“What’s happening?”

“Athanatos is putting up walls between us. Divide and conquer. Oldest trick in the book.” Marcus labored to breathe, sweat pearling on his forehead.

Only now did Regan notice the arm he had draped around his ribcage. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he grunted. “One of them nicked me back there. It’s just a scratch.”

Regan peeled his hand away and examined the raw, puckered flesh beneath his torn shirt. “A scratch, huh?”

“I’ll live.”

He was probably right. The wound didn’t look fatal. Still, the angel’s blood could travel through his system, the way an infection spreads from a wound to poison its host.

“Let me help you refuel.”

“There’s no time. You can get past these walls. Go. Help Cutler rescue Lia and end this once and for all.”

“I’m not leaving you here like this.”

An angry glare, followed by a curse. “This is bigger than any one of us. You know that.”

“Geez, when did you become such a martyr?”

The angel’s blood was starting to weaken him. He leaned his back against the makeshift wall, gritting his teeth from the pain.

“Give me your hands,” she ordered.

He slid to the ground, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. “I told you to get out of here.” Violent shudders gripped him.

Regan dropped onto her haunches and seized his hands despite his protests. Because of the special bond the Watchers shared, a mere touch often helped speed up the recovery process. It wasn’t as effective as ingesting a soul, but pooling her energy with Marcus’s would keep the angel’s blood from further contaminating his bloodstream.

“Why are you doing this when you could be out there helping your son?”

She jolted, nearly released his hands. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m no fool, Regan.” His gaze narrowed on her, so penetrating she felt violated. “You’ve never shown much interest in this war. You fight with us for the adrenaline rush, nothing more, nothing less. At least you used to. Now you’re more invested than I’ve ever seen you.” He glided his palms across hers and clutched her wrists, forcing her to look at him. “It’s because of Cutler, isn’t it? He’s the one.”

“That’s what everyone seems to think.”

“I’m not referring to the prophecy. I’m talking about the child you defied Cal to set free over thirty years ago. The infant you swore you drowned.”