Angelbound (47 page)

Lincoln’s voice is calm and low. “Not yet.”

The Tinea’s greasy head-lump breaks through the Arena floor. I want to move so badly; it takes all my focus to wait. Next, the demon’s wormy torso follows out of the hole. I shake out my fingertips, trying to release some of the tension. Finally, ropy legs pop out of the dirt and lock onto the ground.

“Now, Myla!” Lincoln bends over at the waist. Setting my foot onto his back, I
launch myself into the air, somersault-twist over the Tinea’s head, and land behind the demon in a crouch. Lincoln raises his short-swords high.

That’s my cue.

As Lincoln brings his blades down through the demon’s arms, I swipe my tail through the monster’s legs. The creature pauses, shivers, then disintegrates into a puddle of brownish goop.

Sweet. Taking down a Tinea’s one for the record books.

Adair sits nearby, her face colorless. “You killed it. Together.”

Lincoln and I bump fists. “That’s right.” I wiggle my bottom. “We are a lean, mean demon killing machine.”

Lincoln laughs; Adair doesn’t. Surprisingly, she’s acting more shocked than arrogant, which is a nice change of pace. Gripping her elbows, she speaks through chattering teeth. “How’d you know how to fight like that?”

Wow. A question that doesn’t involve Scala Heir-related whining. Adair needs to almost die more often. I jog in place, cracking my neck from side to side. “Lincoln broke the baculum in two, so obviously he’s going for the demon’s arms. And if he’s taking out the arms, then I need to get the legs. That’s the only way to kill a Tinea.”

The Prince wraps his hands about my waist. “Nicely done.”

I kiss the tip of his nose. “Back at ya.” Suddenly, I’m very aware that I’m wearing a skin-tight cat-suit and Lincoln looks yummy in his body armor. The air around us pulses with energy. If Adair weren’t staring at me like I was another Tinea, I’d totally kiss Lincoln right now.

The Prince reads my mind. “Later, Myla.”

I purse my lips, half frowning. “Got anything more specific for me on that?”

Lincoln frames my face with his fingertips. “There will be time for us. I swear it.” He’s talking about more than a kiss. Desire blasts through me.
Oh, yeah.
My eyes flare bright red.

The Prince leans in closer, his mouth outside my ear. “I think that’s a record for fastest time from zero to sparkling.”

My mouth curves into a semi-snarky grin. “You’re such a competitive little creep.”
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping back, I exhale a long breath. We can’t afford to stand around cracking jokes. “I need to find Walker. I’m late to the bunker as it is.”

Lincoln’s brows arch. “
I
need? Do you think you’re going alone?”

I mock-frown. “I thought that was the plan.” Lincoln’s staying with me? Wow. A bright spot in an otherwise bleak day. My heart lightens.

“When Armageddon invaded Purgatory, the plans changed. I’m not going anywhere until I’m certain you’re safe.”

I kick the ground with my heel. “I’d tell you to join your people, but you won’t listen to me anyway.”

Lincoln shoots me a sly grin. “And secretly, you totally want me around.”

My cheeks turn pink.
Am I that obvious?
“That too.”

“Knew it.” With a wink in my direction, Lincoln turns to Adair, offering his arm. “Can you walk?”

She keeps her hands to herself, for once. “I’m fine.”

“Very good.” The Prince tilts his head. “I’m afraid you must travel with us until we can get you home.”

“That’s okay.” Adair’s voice is barely above a whisper. I eye her for a long moment, my forehead creased in thought. Our fight with the Tinea demon changed her somehow, but I can’t put my finger on it. I shrug. Whatever it is, she’s certainly less irritating.

“Hello, there!” Walker limps toward us, his arm raised in welcome. I’m happy to see that his skin’s a healthier shade of pale. Around him, the stadium looks pretty much deserted. “I can portal everyone to the bunker now, if you’re ready.”

My gaze shifts between Walker and Lincoln. With my two favorite guys along for the ride?
I’m more than ready.

Exiting the portal, I step into the dim light of the bunker’s main chamber. Walker, Adair, and Lincoln follow behind me. The space is huge, square, and made of poured concrete. Industrial lanterns dangle from long ceiling cords, casting halos of light on the floor. Steel shelves line the walls, each one overflowing with supplies. Metal folding chairs lie unopened in stacks. Mom, Tim, Cissy, and Zeke wait along the opposite wall.

I wave to them. “Hey, guys.”

No one speaks. That’s odd. “Don’t all say hello at once.” I grin.

Still no reply. The hairs on my neck stand on end. Alarm rattles through my body. Twisting about, I glance at the communications console. The monitors are still dark. My forehead creases. Everything was supposed to be turned on by now.

I gesture to Cissy and Zeke. “What are you two still doing here?”

No one says a word. Tim and Cissy huddle closer, taking a few steps away from the others. Adair scuttles off to a corner and skulks, sitting with her arms
wrapped about her knees. At least she isn’t screaming.

My forehead creases a little more. Why is Cissy anywhere near Tim? This is off, way off. The alarm bells in my body ring louder, setting my teeth on edge.

Walker frowns, pointing his long arm toward Tim. “Why haven’t you transported the young quasis?”

Tim’s black eyes flare red, his mouth twists into an evil grin. “Why? You have to ask
why
?”

A bolt of chilly fear runs down my spine. I never liked that Tim.

Walker bares his teeth. “Answer my question, TIM-29.”

“Because I know who this one
really is
.” Tim points his bony finger toward Mom. “You’d never accept being a seamstress, Senator. You’re plotting against the ghoul government, you and that witch you call a daughter. I chose to side against my people once, when I decided to work for you. I won’t make that mistake twice.” He tells a good story, but the tremor in his voice hints at a different tale. For Tim, this is about more than being a patriotic ghoul. He still cares for my Mom and he’s pissed she doesn’t
like him-like him
. He wants revenge.

Tim spins Cissy around. He holds a short spear against her spine. “This weapon’s covered in poison. Make no mistake; one scratch will kill her. None of you move.”

Oh, damn. And here I thought Tim was so adult for helping out even though Mom loved Xavier. My wrath demon spews fire into my veins. What a whiny little loser! I glare at his bony hand on Cissy’s arm. So help me, if he hurts her, I’ll rip
his head off. And that’s just for starters.

Lincoln speaks in a low and deliberate voice. “We came from the Arena. The demons attacked everyone, ghouls included. The Oligarchy barely escaped with their lives. We’re on the same side, friend.”

“The demons attacked, eh?” Tim scowls. “And whose fault is that? You forget, I worked with the Senator for years. She’d never give up on the republic. She’s still scheming and fighting, mark my words.”

Mom’s voice is calm and soothing. “Please understand, Tim. I’m not the same–”

“Spare me.” He turns to Mom, eyes blazing. “I’m not sure how you’ve angered Armageddon, but you’ll pay for it. The Oligarchy are coming.”

A new portal opens; through it steps the Oligarchy in their deep red robes. The Scala lies on a stretcher between them, the old thrax’s eyes closed in deep sleep. The portal disappears.

Bands of anxiety bind my shoulders and neck. The Oligarchy are
here
? The whole reason for this little bunker excursion was so I could hide from power-freaks like them. Once they know who I am, they’ll try to control me. Rage and frustration careen through my body, tension coils through every muscle. Damn, damn, damn!

I grit my teeth, forcing my breathing to slow. Stay calm, it’s only the Oligarchy. These aren’t the scariest monsters in town, by far. It’s not like Armageddon’s here.

Tim’s sneer melts into a look of awe. “Mighty Oligarchy, I bring you a prisoner
to appease our invaders.” He gestures to Mom. “Senator Lewis.” Next, he points directly at me. “And
that
one may pretend to have special powers. Don’t be fooled.”

The Oligarchy set down the Scala’s stretcher. “Excellent work.” Their heads swivel in unison as they survey the room. “And this place is safe from demons?”

“Yes, it’s surrounded in angelfire.” Tim nods his head so vigorously, I’m shocked he doesn’t get whiplash. “It’s the perfect place to conduct your negotiations.”

The Oligarchy nod. “And you’re certain this plan will work?”

Tim’s huge black eyes beam with pride. “Yes, it’s like I told you. Senator Lewis would never
really
become a seamstress. She’s been planning to restore the old republic. Believe me,
this
is why Armageddon invaded. Get rid of the Senator, you’ll get rid of him too.”

I sigh. Tim doesn’t know how Mom changed after she lost Xavier. He can’t imagine Senator Lewis doing anything but fight. My mouth droops into a frown as I stare into the Oligarchy’s open, gullible faces. They’re grasping at any straw rather than face the truth about Armageddon.

The Oligarchy let out a low hiss, then speak in unison. “The King of Hell arrives any moment.” Their heads turn in a single motion, scanning the room. “Let us hope that handing over the Senator is enough to appease him.”

My jaw drops. Armageddon invades Purgatory and
this
is the master plan to drive him out: hand over my mother? Talk about living in a dream world. My insides twist with worry at the thought of Mom in the hands of that fiend. Who am
I kidding? Any of us could be handed over to the King of Hell. It’s across-the-boards terrifying.

“You told Armageddon where we’re all hiding?” Mom rolls her eyes. “He’ll come here all right, but not just for us.”

The Oligarchy look around the room, their gaze pausing on the Scala and then Adair. “We see the Scala Heir is here as well.”

Tim rushes to Adair’s side, pulling her up from the floor. “Yes, mighty Oligarchy. She’ll be useful to you. If the Senator isn’t enough, you can negotiate with her as well.”

The Oligarchy’s eyes flare bright. “Yes, most suitable.”

Adair struggles under Tim’s grip. “I’m not the Scala Heir. It was all a fake.” She points directly at me. “She’s the one. She’s the Heir.”

My back teeth lock.
Now
she decides I’m the Scala Heir.

The Oligarchy let out a gurgle that I’m guessing is their laugh. “You’re whatever Armageddon believes you to be, little girl.”

Adair staggers backwards until her back hits the concrete wall. “But I’m not the Heir, really.” All the color drains from her face.

“It won’t come to that.” The Oligarchy hiss in what I’m guessing is meant to be a comforting tone. “Armageddon will take the Senator and leave.”

My stomach churns with an unpleasant realization. The Oligarchy may be grasping at straws in offering Mom to Armageddon, but they aren’t all
that
stupid. They brought the Scala in here and are acting nicey-nice with Adair for one reason: they’ll give Armageddon anything he wants in order to save themselves.
And the King of Hell wants his son back. No doubt, he wants whoever succeeds the Scala too.

“Don’t worry, Great Scala Heir.” The Oligarchy bow slightly to Adair. “The plan is perfect. Handing over the Senator will work.”

Walker’s eyes blaze red. “Time to change the plan.” He lowers his head and a portal starts to take shape by the far wall.

The Oligarchy’s gaze snaps in Walker’s direction. “Don’t try to circumvent us, traitor.” The portal vanishes.

Crud. The Oligarchy shut Walker down. We’re running out of options.

An idea appears in my mind. Maybe I can distract the Oligarchy with an igni display. I don’t need much time, just long enough for Walker to open a portal. I nod to myself; that’s an awesome scheme. Raising my hand to shoulder-height, I close my eyes. Lincoln instantly grabs my wrist, pulling it down.

“Myla, please.” His mouth barely moves as he whispers to me. “He’ll know.”

No question which ‘him’ Lincoln’s talking about: Armageddon.

I catch the Prince’s gaze, see the spark of desperation and fear in his eyes. “Hiding you, it’s the reason we’re all here.”

My gaze shifts to Adair, who still huddles against the wall, pale and shivering. “What about Adair?”

A muscle twitches along Lincoln’s jawline. “What about Armageddon getting both the Scala and the Scala Heir? With that kind of power, he could control all the five realms. This is bigger than any of us, Myla.”

I nod, gripping my hands behind my back. I feel the weight of being the Scala
Heir seep into my bones. This is the pits. Why didn’t I back down when Mom said I shouldn’t ask questions about my father?

Across the room, the Oligarchy gesture to the Scala. “Maxon.” The old man half-opens his eyes. In Latin, the Oligarchy whisper the words for “Imprison them.” The Scala raises his withered hand, a flurry of igni dance around his fingertips. He repeats the words of the Oligarchy, “Imprison them,” and closes his eyes once more.

The igni break free from his hand and fly about the room, encircling everyone except the Oligarchy and Tim. The bolts quickly turn into electric cords that bind our hands and feet. Tim lowers his spear from Cissy’s back; he no longer needs it.

I stare at the igni wrapped about my wrists, feeling their calming effect on my soul. Sensing my power, they reach out to me, little tendrils of thought that seep in through my skin. I want to set them free so badly, it’s like a pain in my chest. Their music and laughter gently echo inside my head, dozens of spirit-children calling me to come out and play.
I can’t, little ones. I have to hide.

The Oligarchy’s eyes blaze bright red. “Every Scala develops a special skill with igni beyond the soul column. Our Maxon creates ropes and cages.” Their four mouths coil into satisfied grins. “Don’t bother trying to escape. Nothing can break your bonds.” They turn to Tim. “Go outside to Armageddon. Tell him we await his orders.”

Nodding, Tim creates a portal and disappears.