Deadly Descendant (35 page)

“I will accept your deal,” Kerner announced from his perch on the stairs.

“Um, great,” I said, though I knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as all that. Kerner had led me here for a reason, and it wasn’t just because he’d look impressive pontificating from the temple stairs.

“But I need a guarantee,” Kerner continued.

I already didn’t like it. “What kind of guarantee?”

Kerner smiled at me, an expression that couldn’t help but look sinister on his bloody face. “I want you to hop into one of those cisterns. Either one, it doesn’t matter. Then I’m going to go fetch a hostage or two. I’ll put the hostages in the other cistern, and then I’ll get you out, and we can go hunting together. Unless you want the hostages to die a slow and miserable death here in the Underworld, you’ll need to keep me alive so I can free them for you.”

No, I definitely didn’t like this plan. I jumped when a jackal growled from behind me.

“Choose a cistern,” Kerner commanded as I backed away from the jackal that menaced me.

The good news was that the cisterns would make the perfect place for me to contain Kerner once I’d subdued him—assuming he couldn’t just create a portal back to the world above anywhere he pleased, but if he could do that, I was screwed no matter what I did. Now all I had to do was figure out how to get him into one of them. Maybe if I did as he asked, he would come closer to gloat at me.

I kept backing away from the jackal, looking back and forth between the two cisterns while keeping an eye on Kerner out of my peripheral vision. He was still too far away for me to hurt him with my keys, but he wasn’t trying to maintain his distance anymore, and every step I took closer to the cisterns was a step closer to Kerner.

No matter what, I couldn’t follow his instructions and jump into the cistern. If I did that, even if he came
close enough for me to hit him afterward, he would just heal, and I wouldn’t be able to get him into the cistern because I’d be stuck in it myself.

“I’m losing patience,” Kerner said, and I realized what I had to do.

I was too far away to get a good shot at Kerner’s head, and the jackals would attack me the moment I made a hostile move. They could run a hell of a lot faster than I could, but if I caught Kerner by surprise …

I took a deep breath, my hand spasming on the keys I still held, hard enough that I was sure I’d have key-shaped marks on my palms. This might be the craziest, most suicidal plan in the history of the universe. Even in the best-case scenario, I would be stuck in the Underworld forever. A frightened little corner of my mind suggested I go along with Kerner’s plan and figure out how to rescue the hostages after I’d gotten out of there and taken care of Kerner.

But I couldn’t do that. If I let Kerner get away, a lot of people would die for my cowardice. Maybe I’d find a way to rescue whatever hostages he brought, but I couldn’t forget that in Kerner’s mind, I’d violated our first agreement. When we’d made the agreement, he’d warned me he would kill innocents if I broke it, and I had no doubt he was still planning to do so. If I let him go now, he would return to the Underworld later with his hostages and with proof of how many innocents he’d killed to punish me.

It was now or never.

I hung my head as if in defeat, but I was really just trying to hide my face, making sure Kerner could read nothing in my expression that might give me away. I took a couple of hesitant steps forward, turning my body like I was going to head for one of the cisterns.

Then I charged Kerner.

Kerner and his jackals
were so taken aback that for a moment, they didn’t react. I let out a battle cry as I picked up as much speed as I could within a few steps.

Kerner recovered from his moment of shock, and suddenly, his jackals all leapt into action at once.

Hard though it was, I ignored the jackals, pulling back my right arm for a throw. I was still a bit farther away than I’d have liked, but at least I had the momentum of my brief sprint behind me as I hurled my keys at Kerner with every drop of strength I could muster, aiming not at his eye but at his wounded temple.

I put so much into the throw that I lost my balance, landing on the stone floor on my hands and knees. It turned out to be a lucky break, as a jackal sailed right through where I would have been if I’d kept my feet. I lashed out at one of the onrushing jackals with one foot, knowing it was a lost cause. A single bite was all
they would need to kill me—assuming I never found my way out of the Underworld, which was a frighteningly good assumption.

A choked scream from above told me my keys had hit their mark, and the jackal I’d been trying to kick suddenly disappeared, my foot going through empty air. I looked up in time to see Kerner put both hands to his wounded head as fresh blood welled between his fingers. He staggered woozily and lost his footing on the stairs, tumbling down them and hitting his head numerous times on the way. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he lay still.

I stayed on my hands and knees for a moment, hardly daring to believe I wasn’t buried under a blanket of jackals. A vicious, fang-filled blanket. But I saw no sign of them, and Kerner wasn’t moving.

Slowly, I rose to my feet and approached his body. A pool of blood was forming on the stone beneath his head. I wasn’t sure whether he was unconscious or dead, but even if he was dead, it would only be temporary.

I didn’t understand how Kerner’s power worked. Could he create a portal anywhere in the Underworld he wanted to? Or were there certain places—like the tunnel we’d fallen into from the cemetery—that led back to the world above? I had to hope for the latter, or even trapping Kerner in one of the cisterns wouldn’t keep him from escaping once he came back to life. Unless I were willing to stay by his side and pound his head into hamburger every time it came close to healing. I had the disturbing thought that if
I really was trapped down here till the end of time, I wouldn’t have anything better to do. Though I supposed I would starve to death or die of dehydration periodically, which might give Kerner the time he needed to heal and escape.

Kerner reeked, and I didn’t want to touch him, but I did it anyway, bending down and feeling for a pulse. There was none. Even if the blow from my keys hadn’t been enough to kill him, the fall down the marble stairs had done the trick. Now all I had to do was drag him to the cistern and hope he couldn’t just form a portal and escape.

Along with being disgustingly filthy, Kerner was also malnourished and as thin as a rail, but he still weighed more than I did. Dragging his dead weight—pardon the pun—toward the cistern was harder than I thought it would be, and I had to stop every couple of feet to suck air into my lungs. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, and fear hovered around the edges of my mind as I tried not to contemplate my bleak future. I wanted to sit down, hug my knees to my chest, and let loose with a fit of hysteria. Then maybe fall asleep and wake up later to find this was all a bad dream.

All of which I promised myself I’d do once I’d gotten Kerner into the blasted cistern. Gritting my teeth in determination, I bent down and grabbed Kerner’s ankles to pull him another few feet closer to the cistern, which I could have sworn was moving farther away every time I turned my back.

“Need some help with that?”

The unexpected voice made me screech with alarm, and my clumsy attempt to whirl around was made even clumsier by my unfortunate mistake of putting my foot down on the edge of Kerner’s leg. I fell awkwardly, getting blood and filth on me as I landed partway on Kerner’s body.

I scrambled away, adrenaline still whipping me into a frenzy even as my rational mind realized it recognized that voice.

When I stopped my panicky retreat, I looked up to find Anderson standing a few yards away, his arms crossed over his chest as he regarded me with amusement. I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart.

I’d allowed myself to forget that Anderson was a death god. I’d wondered once before whether he had the ability to travel into the Underworld. Now I had my answer.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When I opened my eyes, Anderson was bending over me, offering me a hand up. I accepted his help, but he didn’t let go once I was on my feet. He’d been smiling at me when I first caught sight of him, but he wasn’t smiling now. I guess he was still mad that I’d gone behind his back.

“You could have gotten yourself, Jamaal, and Jack all killed tonight,” he said, his hand tightening on mine enough to make my bones ache.

I swallowed hard, hoping he wasn’t going to do the Hand of Doom thing. I’d have tried to pull away, but I knew it was pointless.

“I couldn’t just let him keep killing people,” I said. “And I couldn’t let Emma know what I was doing. I couldn’t risk Steph.”

Anderson closed his eyes, but not before I saw the flash of pain in them. He let go of my hand, and I rubbed at my sore knuckles.

“She wouldn’t have hurt Steph,” Anderson said, but his voice held a trace of doubt. “Emma’s not like that.”

“Maybe she wasn’t like that before the Olympians got to her. But she is now.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Is that a trick question?” Anderson scowled at me, and I held up my hands in surrender. “Because I didn’t think you’d believe me. You want the old Emma back so much you refuse to see what she’s become.”

Anderson shook his head, either in denial or in disgust, I wasn’t sure which. My heart ached way more than any of my physical injuries.

“I have a bag packed in my car,” I said, forcing words through my tight throat. “I’ll be out of your hair as soon as you get me out of here. Maybe if I’m not around, Emma will start to stabilize.”

I didn’t believe my own words, but it felt right to say them. “You
are
planning to get me out of here, right?”

Anderson sighed. “Of course.”

I couldn’t help hoping that he would ask me to stay, that he would somehow keep a leash on Emma and
make sure that both Steph and I were safe from her malice. But I wasn’t shocked when he merely squatted by Kerner’s side and touched the dead man’s throat. I thought he was checking for a pulse. Until his hand started to glow.

I took a couple of hasty steps back, primal fear urging me to run. I’d seen what Anderson could do with that glowing hand, and I didn’t want to see it again.

I turned my back and squeezed my eyes closed as the light in the cavern brightened. I remembered the screams of agony from the men I’d seen Anderson kill before, and my entire body was taut with horrified anticipation. Only Kerner was already dead, so there were no screams. No sounds at all, except for the pounding of my pulse.

When the light dimmed, I turned around. Anderson was still squatting, but instead of a dead body at his feet, there was only Kerner’s empty clothes. His body had been entirely consumed by Anderson’s magic, leaving not even a trace of him behind.

Anderson dusted off his hands and rose to his feet, eyes averted. “Come on,” he said, still without looking at me. “Let’s get out of here.”

I nodded my agreement, then gingerly picked up my bloodied keys from where they had landed on the steps. There were already bloodstains on my coat, so I used it to wipe off as much of the blood as I could before shoving the keys back into my pocket. I fell into step with Anderson as he led me back down the main
road. The deserted city still gave me the creepy feeling that I was being watched by malevolent eyes, but it didn’t seem to disturb Anderson in the least.

“What is this place?” I asked, hoping that breaking the silence would help me shake off the heebie-jeebies.

Anderson slanted a glance at me. “It’s the City of the Dead. Well, one of them, anyway.”

That didn’t exactly tell me much. “Does that mean there are dead people hanging around here?”

But Anderson shook his head. “The city has been deserted for a long, long time. Ever since the gods abandoned Earth. The same is true, at least for the most part, of the entire Underworld.”

I resisted the urge to ask him what he meant by “for the most part.” I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know.

Anderson led me back to the tunnel from which I’d come, and we left the City of the Dead behind. The hair on the back of my neck remained raised until the city disappeared from view. When we were back to the spot where I’d fallen through the portal—I recognized it by the splotch of Kerner’s blood that marked the floor—Anderson reached over and took my hand.

“Hold on tight,” he warned me. “Whatever you do, don’t let go.”

He took a step forward, and his foot landed on empty air, about eight inches from the ground. His next step was about eight inches higher than that, and I realized he was climbing stairs I couldn’t see. He
was also pulling on my hand, so I took a tentative step forward, lowering my foot until I felt something solid below. I glanced down just to be sure, but yes, my foot was resting on empty air.

Blowing out a deep breath, I squeezed Anderson’s hand a little tighter and followed him upward into the impenetrable darkness.

Life in the outside
world had not come to a stop while I was in the Underworld, and by the time Anderson and I emerged from the portal into the cemetery, it was deserted.