Betrayal (The Divine, Book Two) (13 page)

I respond by jumping into the hole, fluttering my wings beneath my loose blouse to slow the descent. Shiva is right behind me, and the torch returns our sight.

“Look,” I say, pointing at a splotch of blood on the side of the brick sewer wall. Gervais had taken a deep cut to his abdomen from a hellfired blade during the fight.

“This way,” Shiva says, heading deeper into the sewers at a full run. I follow along behind, fearful of losing the light from his torch. I know this is a bad idea, but what choice do I have?

We have to stop every twenty yards to check the walls, to follow the trail of blood. It makes following after my brother slow, and with each step I’m more certain he’s gotten away. We pass from a smaller tunnel into a larger one, then come to a silent stop. The torch is casting just enough light for us to see the nightstalkers up ahead, leaning over, feeding on one of their own. It has a dagger sticking out of its neck. It’s dark, but the size and shape is familiar.

“We’re on the right path,” Shiva says.
 

“Capitaine,” I say in a whisper. “This is a hopeless pursuit. We can barely even see down here. Look at them feeding, he is minutes ahead.”

Shiva looks thoughtful for a moment, considering my opinion. “If we die in service of our Lord, then so be it,” he says. “We must take big risks to have big success.”

I am a servant, and so I nod and hold my sword out in front of me. “I will clear the path,” I say, rushing forward into the darkness before Shiva can stop me.

It’s much easier to fight in the dark than it is to move in the dark. I close my eyes and concentrate on my Sight, feeling their presence, registering their every movement while I put years of training into play.
 

I hear the rustle of a shirt-sleeve and twist, avoiding a pale hand and lashing out with my blade to impale the nightstalker. I kick it back out of the way and duck under a grab, reach into my boot for a dagger and stab back into the demon’s knee.
 

Hot breath on my neck alerts me and I spin, sweeping my leg along the ground, pushing through the impact, following the sound of the creature knocking against the wall and sending my dagger airborne into it.
 

I leap upward, fluttering my wings to gain more height, and lash out with my boot, hearing the crunch of bone as the last one’s head is snapped backwards. I stab this one, and then stand calm in the center of the melee, the smell of frankincense strong in the enclosed space.
 

I open my eyes.

“Well done,” Shiva says, patting me on the shoulder. He aims the torch at the passage beyond. “This way.”

I lose track of how long we are in the sewer. We follow a path that appears below us, a worn avenue of motion that keeps the grime of the tunnels away. It speeds our progress, but it doesn’t calm my nerves. The path is too worn for a single demon, too worn for even a handful of nightstalkers. What will we find at the end?

The tunnel opens up into a large room, lit by sconces of hellfire. I swallow to try to quell my fear. The room is filled with skulls and bones, stacked neatly along the walls, piled twelve feet high from floor to ceiling. It reminds me of the catacombs, but we aren’t in the catacombs. There is a large demon skull on the other side of the room, its mouth spread open in a horrified howl. Through the mouth is another tunnel that vanishes in the darkness beyond. Gervais’ torn shirt lays discarded in the center of the room.

“We’re getting close,” Shiva says. Such is the focus of his pursuit that he seems oblivious to the grotesquery of our surroundings. He reaches Gervais’ shirt and bends down to examine it, at the same time I see the corner of a rune sticking out from the edge.
 

“Shiva, wait,” I cry. I’m too late. He lifts the shirt and exposes the runes scratched into the floor. A spout of hellfire rises, the flames lashing into his head, igniting his hair and clothes. He’s an effigy, his arms outstretched, his body aflame. He has no time to cry out in pain before he is consumed. Then, he is gone.

My breathing is ragged, and my eyes are streaming tears. I hold my sword in front of me and rush forward, desperate to reach my brother, desperate to make him pay. He knew I would be the cautious one. He knew I would survive.

As soon as I pass into the demon skull’s open maw I begin to feel the pressure. I take three more steps, and my head feels as though it will explode. I see the runes encircling the tunnel, carved into the stone as far as I can see before the light no longer reveals it. I cannot pass, so I back up. I sit on the floor and cry, knowing that I still need to find my way to the surface, and the torch is gone.

My vision snapped back into focus, finding itself on the rear of Lylyx’s helmet, the traffic sweeping by on both sides of us as she weaved her way towards Paris.

“Landon,” she shouted. “Landon.”

“I’m here,” I said. “Just doing some soul-searching.”
 

I fought to shake off the feelings of despair and hopelessness that Josette had been experiencing while she sat alone in the room of skulls and bones. I put my hand up to my forehead, rubbing my temple to try to shake the hangover. I needed to get better control of my inherited memories, because the reenactments were a serious drain.

“We’re five minutes out,” she said. “Do you have a destination for me?”

I took a deep breath and gathered myself, reaching gently for Josette and feeling her presence as a feather on the edge of my soul. “Marais,” I replied.

Le Marais was one of the oldest districts in France, a former aristocratic section of the city that had once been home to Victor Hugo and Robespierre. Today, it maintained its architectural charm and grace, while also supporting a much more eclectic manner of Parisian. Le Marais held its share of historical hotels, trendy restaurants and posh art galleries, as well as gay clubs and cabarets.

I had kept my senses focused while Lylyx had navigated us through the City of Light. I knew we had passed by a few vampires lurking in the shadows of the surrounding buildings, as well as two or three angels who were keeping an eye on the machinations of the vamps. None of them gave us any trouble, and I had cloaked myself to better match Lylyx so as not to draw any added attention.

My plan for finding Gervais’ underground rift wasn’t much of a plan at all. Lylyx circled the bike through the streets of Paris while I looked for any kind of visual cues that would either register as familiar, or cause some kind of emotional flood from Josette’s past. I was a little worried I would find myself back in her memories, but there didn’t seem to be any way around it. It was true that I could have gone straight to the archfiend’s chateau; I knew from Josette exactly where to find it, but she had felt it was too risky and I was inclined to agree.

We were cruising past the Picasso Museum when I felt a familiar heat fall into my Sight. A hint of a smile played across the edge of my face, and I tapped Lylyx on the shoulder and pointed her down a connecting street. The roads were narrow in Le Marais, and it took us a few tries to find the right pattern to get closer to the target.

“Where are we going?” Lylyx asked.
 

I had made her stop the bike, and we had continued on foot, down another narrow corridor to stand in front of a tall wrought iron gate. Beyond the gate was a dark alley, and I knew I would find my quarry at its rear.

“The entrance to the sewers is down there,” I said.

“I smell something else down there,” she replied. “Something old and powerful.”

I focused, pulling the iron gate out of the way. “That’s how I know we’re in the right place.”

The buildings on either side of the alley were tall, and blocked any chance the sun had of making its way down into their depths. The darkness cast by the shadows held a palpable, eerie quality that was edging its way under my skin. Even though Josette’s hunt for Gervais had happened hundreds of years ago, I could almost feel the energy of it hanging in the air.
 

I was about to ask Lylyx if she had a bic, or a match, or something so I could create some light to pierce the blackness. It wasn’t that I needed it to see, but something about the darkness was making me strangely uncomfortable. Before I had a chance to, a small flame flickered to life a dozen yards ahead, illuminating its wielder in temporal light. A sharp, devilish grin behind a neatly groomed beard, on a narrow, angled face.
 

Lylyx gasped, and stopped walking. She started to step backwards, but I grabbed her arm. “Come on,” I said. “He’s with me.”

She looked at me like I was crazy, but she didn’t say anything. I held her arm until we reached Izak. I saw he was perched at the edge of a hole in the ground, the sewer grate already placed off to the side.
 

“Good to see you again,” I said, clapping the demon on the shoulder.
 

He looked at Lylyx and furrowed his brow.

“It’s a long story, but I’ve had a little bit of an adventure since we split up. Izak, this is Lylyx. I’m sure you can See she’s a Great Were.”

Izak nodded. He cast the hellfire into the air so he could hold out his hand for her to shake. He didn’t do it to be friendly, he did it to show the runes running up his wrist.

She tentatively took it and gave it a light shake. “I’m also Ulnyx’s mate,” she said, casting a sidelong glance my way. The whole thing was some kind of weird demon pissing match. The logic of it eluded me.

“Have you been down?” I asked Izak.
 

He shook his head.

 
I focused my Sight, reaching down into the depths, and finding it didn’t stretch very far. I guess we were going in blind. I turned to Lylyx. “Stay behind us. We aren’t going to have much room to maneuver down there, so hulking up is out of the question.”

She didn’t look comfortable. “I guess now isn’t a good time to mention that I’m claustrophobic?”

“You can mention it,” I replied. “But it doesn’t change anything. Izak, take the lead.”
 

The fiend jumped down into the hole, his flame trailing behind him. I stepped up to the hole and found the hellfire resting at the bottom next to Izak’s face.
 

“I should have let you kill me,” Lylyx said. I jumped.

I landed on a puff of air, creating only the slightest splash in the inch deep run of wastewater flowing through the tunnel. I could See Lylyx standing above us, and I could smell her fear. I knew when it changed from apprehension to determination. I held out my arms and caught her gently, finding her in my arms looking up at me with big, dark eyes. I felt Unlyx stirring.

“Thanks for the catch,” she purred, her hand reaching around behind me to find purchase somewhere else.
 

I deposited her roughly, ignoring the position of her hand on my rear. “Just stay behind us,“ I said.

“With pleasure,” she replied.

I stayed focused on my Sight as we walked, even though it could only penetrate a short distance further than my eyes. The sewers seemed clear, but there was a tangible charge in the atmosphere, a foreboding that this was only the calm before the storm. I was thankful to have Izak with me because he knew where we were going, saving us from a lot of stumbling around in the cavernous maze of tunnels.

As we walked, I was able to pick out some areas of the brickwork where Gervais had passed by so many years before, the dark splatter of his blood still leaving its indelible stain along the surface. I could sense the pull of it through Josette’s soul, an invitation to explore in greater depth. I could feel her invisible hand resting on me, feeding me her strength.
 

“Nightstalkers,” Lylyx whispered from behind me. I couldn’t See anything, so I stopped and turned towards her. “Ulnyx never did have a very good sense of smell,” she said. “At least compared to me. Though I’m surprised, because there are a lot of them.”

I still couldn’t See them, or smell them. “Where?” I asked.

She smiled coyly. “You mean you don’t know? Behind us, but I think they’re running.”

“Izak,” I whispered, causing the demon to stop walking and face me. I pointed back the way we had come. “Lylyx smells uglies, coming this way.”

It was only another heartbeat or two before I Saw them, a mass of heat spread down the smaller sewer tunnel. They were definitely running, and fast. Izak grabbed my shoulder. I turned back to look at him.

His arms swung wildly back and forth, and his eyes were wide. He pointed down the tunnel, and then swung his hand back around to point the way we had been going. I shrugged and held my hands out to the side, not able to understand what he was trying to say. After a couple of rounds of this, he growled in exasperation, dug his claws into my arm, and threw me away from the oncoming nightstalkers. He took hold of Lylyx’s wrist before she could pull it away, and dragged her after me.

We were running away from the nightstalkers. I didn’t know why, because I was certain the three of us could have dealt with them without difficulty. Judging by the focused look of disturbance on Izak’s face, I was getting the feeling there was more to the story, something I hadn’t caught on to. The fact that it was causing the fiend to run was enough reason to obey.

The stone was a blur, the constant sound of our footfalls kicking up water echoing around us, trapped and reverberated by the enclosed space. I could smell the nightstalkers now, getting closer even with our all-out run. I could smell their fear. They weren’t coming to attack us, they were running away from something else. We just happened to be in the way.

We reached a break in the tunnel, where it split off on either side. I knew from Josette’s memory that we should have continued straight. Instead, I hit the brakes, swerving to the left, and then reaching out and taking hold of both Izak and Lylyx, pulling them in after me.