The Long Way Down (33 page)

I pointed at a thin line. “So what’s this? An alley?”

“An alley from a street one block over,” Bentley said. “There’s a service entrance to the casino along with a loading-bay door. Quite private. Here’s your problem, though. The Klondike Room is here, on the twelfth floor. To get to the stairs, you’ll have to cross the casino and the hotel lobby.”

I thought back to Nicky’s warning about Meadow Brand’s traps, and my jaw tightened. “Nicky said the hotel elevator will take me right up to the Klondike. That right?”

Corman snorted. “Sure, if you’re in a hurry to get killed. Think about it, kiddo. Elevator that opens right into the room where they’re camping out? They’ll cut you down the second the doors open, and they’ll see the car coming up five minutes before it gets there. Same problem with the emergency stairwell.”

Margaux frowned at the sketch. “What kind of place was the Klondike? Bar or a restaurant?”

“Full service,” Bentley said. “Had the best steak and martini special in town, and for peanuts too. Cormie and I used to be regular fixtures there.”

“They didn’t squeeze slabs of beef into the elevator with the dinner guests,” she said. “Had to be a way for the workin’ folks to go up top, too, and supply the kitchen. Bet you there’s a service elevator.”

“What kind of opposition are we looking at?” Corman asked.

“Three sorcerers,” I said. “They’re good, and I mean good. First up is Sheldon Kaufman. He’s a brawler, does this thing he calls Forsaken Hand style—”

Bentley scrunched his nose. “Ugh. I’d thought that school went extinct a long time ago. Dreadful people. I’ll not put you off your drinks by describing their teaching techniques.”

I nodded. “Least of our worries, I think. Number two is Meadow Brand. She builds things. I’m not sure if she can do any spontaneous, impromptu magic, but the Silverlode’s her house and she’s had plenty of time to prepare surprises for us. Finally, there’s Lauren. You’ve all seen what she’s capable of.”

“So how do you want to play it?” Jennifer asked.

I sat back and sipped my margarita, watching the slow traffic on the boulevard. So many happy, innocent people, not knowing they could be headed for their last sunset on Earth. I’d botched this thing from start to finish. Spengler died in front of me because I couldn’t save him. I was too late to rescue Amber Vance. Now, all eyes were on me, and they expected me to come up with a plan to stop Armageddon. No pressure.

“We hit them hard and fast. Not just because we’re on a deadline—the longer it takes me to climb that tower, the longer they have to prepare a welcoming party. I need to know what I’m running into, before I run into it. Corman, you’re the best remote viewer in the business. If you’re up for it, I want you on astral overwatch.”

Corman nodded firmly. “Been a long time since I was the best, kiddo, but I’ve still got the juice where it counts. I’m in.”

“I’ll translate for Cormie,” Bentley said. “He doesn’t have much breath when he’s in a trance state. You wear an earpiece, and I’ll relay everything he says over the telephone.”

I turned to Margaux. “Mama, I’m expecting heavy wards. Keep-out-or-die kinda stuff. I seem to recall your spirit buddies are good at dismantling those.”

“Good? Hah! Those wards will crack like eggshells in a blender. Give me a couple hours, maybe three, to make the sacrifices and butter them up. My spirits’ll dance with you, Danny boy. No barrier built by mortal hands will stand in your way.”

“And for everything else,” Jennifer said, “you got me. Oh, I am going in with you. You know me, I’m a hands-on kinda witch, and I don’t mind the rough stuff.”

Caitlin cleared her throat. “I’ll be in communication with…my people. Preparing for the worst, in the event that they open the Box and my prince is summoned forth.”

I studied the napkin sketch. No way to tell what we’d face once we got inside. On astral overwatch, Corman’s disembodied eyes should be able to scout ahead and offer a few seconds of warning, but that was all the help we’d get. Once we hit the door, it’d be a twelve-floor sprint through everything they could throw at us.

“They’ll anticipate someone jimmying the door at the service entrance,” I said. “Good place for a nasty trap. I’d love to get in through the loading bay instead, but I’m not sure how. Any suggestions?”

“Boom-boom. Clump of C-4 the size of a butter stick,” Jennifer said.

“Loud,” Bentley said, “but they’ll almost certainly be alerted to your presence as soon as the assault begins, no matter how you go in. Loud and disorienting might be to our advantage.”

“Wait,” I said, “plastic explosives? You can get that?”

“Darlin’, I deal in mass quantities of recreational substances for a living. Outlaw bikers are some of my best customers. When I say I can get some boom-boom, I mean I can
get
some boom-boom. Lemme make some calls, I’ll have it by tonight.”

It made sense. Nicky had said he could keep the cops at bay, at least for a little while, and hopefully the back lot was secluded enough that the blast would sound more like fireworks or a backfiring car to the crowds a block away.

“I think we’re ready.” I pushed back my chair, offering my hand to Caitlin. “Let’s meet up at eight tonight. We’ll get the job done.”

It wasn’t much of a speech. I felt like I should say something to rally the troops, considering what was on the line, but then again I didn’t need to. Looking around the table at the resolve in their eyes, I could see that everybody knew the stakes. They’d follow me into hell if they had to.

I hoped that saying didn’t turn literal.

“One thing,” Jennifer said, handing me the long flower box. I took it in my hands, surprised by its weight. “I saved that for you, from the locust job we pulled on Spengler’s house. I think he’d want you to have it. Don’t open it here.”

Bentley held up a finger. “Daniel? A word?”

I nodded and walked with him to the opposite edge of the patio deck. He fumbled for words, and I waited patiently while he found them. I already knew what he was going to say.

“I’m not okay with this,” he said.

“I know.”

“No, please, hear me out. When Cormie and I found you, you were…a ruin. What that cult did to you, what those demons did inside of you, was unspeakable. Your spirit was in tatters, scarred, torn. Most people would have died from that kind of abuse, but you survived. You survived and grew into a vibrant, strong man who we are so very, very proud of.”

“You think it’s going to happen again. Is that it? You think Caitlin’s going to hurt me?”

Bentley shook his head, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes tightening.

“She’s a demon, Daniel. I’m not convinced she’s
capable
of not hurting you. I know what she is, and it scares me to death. But then…I saw how she looked at you.”

I nodded, holding my silence.

“It’s the way Cormie looked at me, when we were young. That’s what he whispered to me, when you sat down together. That the two of you reminded him of us.”

“This isn’t going to be easy,” I told him. “Not for any of us. I just need to know you’ve got my back.”

He pulled me into a hug, his bottom lip quivering. His shoulders felt frail in my arms, like a bird’s bones.

“Always, son,” he whispered. “Always.”

Forty

C
aitlin and I didn’t say much on our walk back to the parking garage. She settled into the passenger seat while I put the flower box in the trunk. When I got in, she looked over at me, an unspoken word on her parted lips.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’m processing,” she said. “This is all very new for me. They…they seem nice.”

She was looking for something. I could see it in her eyes, a strange uncertainty, a hunger she didn’t know how to deal with. I wasn’t certain what it was, but I had a hunch.

“Yeah, I think they liked you.”

She smiled, relief in her eyes. “I’m not used to caring about that. I mean, if I’m dealing with a human and I need them to want me, I can
make
them want me. I can make them feel whatever I need them to feel.”

“But it’s not the real thing.”

“No. It’s not.”

I started the engine and backed out of the parking space.

“I want to be there with you tonight,” Caitlin said. “I hate that I can’t, but that damned ring—”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll get it away from her. Even if I have to take her finger off with it.”

“Meanwhile, I’ll be playing politics. Ever since my prince advised his inner council on the Box situation, word’s spread like wildfire. There’s a gallery of potential usurpers sharpening their knives as we speak.”

I squinted as we pulled out of the garage, the golden afternoon light splashing across my dusty windshield. “Why’d he do it, then? He had to have known people would talk.”

“Exactly. What better time than a crisis to find out how your confidants really feel? The disloyal make themselves obvious, drooling over the thought of an empty throne. Once tonight is over and done, I suspect there will be some vigorous housecleaning in my prince’s court.”

“You sound like you’re enjoying this.”

“That part? I am. Some traitorous would-be conquerors are going to be very surprised when they wake up in chains tomorrow. There will be punishment. Severe. Merciless. Punishment. Pain is so much more enjoyable when it’s inflicted on the truly deserving.” She paused, quirking an eyebrow. “Does that bother you?”

I thought about it for a second and shrugged.

“You’re a career woman. I respect that.”

We drove to her place. Sitting in the car, the radio turned off, we listened to the engine idle and stared at the bloody sky.

“So what now?” she said softly.

I took the fringed pouch from my pocket and stared at it, feeling the weight of Stacy’s half-soul in my fingertips.

“Now I go to the storm tunnels and have a chat with a dead girl. Then I’m gonna go save the world. After that, my evening’s pretty much free. Want to get together for drinks?”

Caitlin turned in her seat. She stroked my neck with the tips of her fingernails, sending shivers down my spine.

“You come back to me,” she said.

“That’s a promise,” I told her, pulling her close. We kissed, and she rested her head on my shoulder.

• • •

Even by the afternoon light, the culvert leading down to the storm tunnels was a treacherous abyss. With my flashlight fixed to my shirt pocket, I slowly climbed down the cutout rungs. My beam flashed across broken glass and concrete. Over in a patch of weeds, a rat’s beady scarlet eyes glowed in the reflected light. It turned and ran, scampering past the wall of tribal graffiti and disappearing into the tunnel. I followed it down.

Past the first bend, snoring echoed off the tunnel walls. Eric slept like a log with the battery-powered lamp glowing behind the ramshackle walls of his lean-to. He’d apparently taken my advice about staying clear of Tunnel C. I crept past as quietly as I could, trying not to wake him.

The trail of enchanted dust was just as I had left it, stretched from end to end across the tunnel mouth. I stood at the edge of the line and squinted into the inky gloom.

“Stacy,” I whispered. “Stacy.”

Stacy Pankow’s mangled wraith loomed out of the darkness, a broken vision in gossamer white. One useless foot trailed behind her as she glided toward me. Her jaw gaped wide in a soundless scream. She stretched out her remaining arm, clawing at the air, but couldn’t cross the dust.

I held up the pouch so she could see it. Her frosted eyes widened. Some part of her, buried under the confusion and pain, recognized what was missing.

“Stacy,” I said, “we need to talk.”

• • •

When I emerged from the tunnel, storm clouds choked the darkening sky. The forecast had called for clear and dry.

Dammit
, I thought, running for the culvert ladder,
they’re already starting
. I jumped into my car and gunned the engine. In the distance, a finger of white lightning licked the sky, crackling between the clouds, mirroring the neon streets below.

Jennifer waited for me down the back alley leading to the Silverlode, rummaging in the trunk of her little blue hatchback. The casino stood cold and silent, but to our magic-attuned eyes it flared like a beacon of black gold. Wards and death-hexes bristled at every window and door. Purple ribbons of energy coiled like serpents around the bricks, wreathing the tower in their rippling runic coils. I pulled up behind Jennifer and got out of the car, cupping a hand over my eyes as I stared at the monstrosity.

“They really don’t want to be disturbed,” I said.

I got the flower box out of my back seat. Jennifer tossed me a Bluetooth earpiece.

“I’d say we’ve seen worse,” she said, “but I hate lyin’.”

She pulled on a shoulder holster. While I linked up the earpiece with my phone and tried to get Bentley on the line, Jennifer handloaded a chrome revolver with a barrel big enough to intimidate a rhinoceros.

“What?” she said, catching my look. “Girl’s gotta protect herself.”

“We’re here,” Bentley said on the other end of the line.

“Good,” I told him. “I’m putting us on a conference call. Dialing up Mama now.”