Dire Blood (#5) (The Descent Series) (20 page)

At Veronika’s direction, everyone left, leaving only security behind. And it was then that Elise realized that she recognized one more person.

He had short red hair, a goatee, and scarred hands. Judging by the badge on his chest, he ranked higher than the rest of security. And he carried himself with the confidence of a man who had never lost a fight—probably because he never had.

Isaac Kavanagh. Her father.

Elise gripped the wall for balance. She had known that her parents were both probably still hanging around Hell, but it hadn’t occurred to her that she might run into them. She hadn’t had time to consider the possibility.

She barely breathed as he gestured Veronika to his side. Together, they walked into the shadow of a tower where nobody would be able to hear them. Elise crept closer to hear their conversation, crouching behind a half-wall so she could hear without being seen.

“Something strange happened earlier today,” Veronika said. “The Union transmission channel opened between the usual hours, but whatever they were sending got intercepted.”

“Did you see where it was taken?” Isaac asked. His voice was deep, unemotional.

“One of the desert shrines, but there was nothing there when I checked it out. It makes me think that the rebellion is trying to snatch interdimensional traffic. This might sound like a leap in logic, sir, but there are a lot of touchstones arriving from topside, so maybe the rebellion was hoping to get one. And if the rebels are going after touchstones, then I think it’s safe to assume that Sohigian…”

“Are any touchstones missing?”

“No,” Veronika said, sounding impatient. “But the rebellion—”

“They aren’t my concern. What of James Faulkner? Any sign?”

Elise’s heart skipped a beat. Nathaniel had joined her behind the wall, and his round face was pale. He opened his mouth. She shook her head to keep him silent.

“Not since he shattered the wall and disappeared into the city. We’re still looking for him,” Veronika said.

So he had escaped. Elise glanced back at the hole in the wall and felt the warmth of pride. She could only imagine what James must have done to rip a hole through the Palace wards—it must have been very loud and very bloody. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Redouble our search and prepare a team. I’m going out to search myself. I want that bastard back in my hands,” Isaac said, and Elise’s smile immediately disappeared.

She grabbed Nathaniel’s arm and slipped away from Isaac and Veronika before she could hear anything else.

Her father was out to get James. She wanted to be surprised, but she couldn’t seem to work up the emotion.

“So James is in the city?” Nathaniel asked once they were a safe distance from Isaac. “How do we find him?”

“The same way you find anything else: you search,” Elise said.

She turned the corner, preparing to phase Nathaniel over the wall again.

And she came face-to-face with her mother.

X

A
riane Kavanagh hadn’t
aged a day since the last time Elise had spoken to her. Her hair was still chestnut brown, and she didn’t have a single new wrinkle. She could have passed for the same age that Elise had been when she died. “The courtyard is meant to be off-limits until I finish restoring the wards. What are you doing here?”

Elise’s mouth worked silently.

Her mother’s head was a buzz of white noise with the volume turned low, but she showed no indication of recognizing her own daughter. Not after fifteen years of aging, a rebirth, and new clothing.

Elise couldn’t feel her hands. Couldn’t think. Could barely breathe.

“We’re just looking around,” Nathaniel said finally when Elise was silent for too long.

Worry darkened Ariane’s eyes. “You are a human boy.”

“I’m visiting.”

“I wasn’t told of any children visiting,” Ariane said. “Children don’t visit the Palace.”

His brain sparked as he searched for a lie. “Uh…”

“I’m searching for Hannah Pritchard,” Elise said suddenly.

Ariane paled. She glanced around the corner where Elise had last seen Isaac. “Where did you hear that name?”

“She was recently brought to Hell. I think she should be in the Palace,” Elise said, speaking a little too quickly, her words a jumble.

The witch picked up a collection of bottles she had set on the ground, tucked them in her bodice, and pushed her hair out of her face. “We can’t talk here.”

She waved her wrist over the nearby tower door and led them inside. Nathaniel stayed glued to Elise’s side as they navigated dark, narrow corridors. “Hannah—” Elise began again.

Ariane cut her off. “Wait.”

When the elevator stopped on the ninth floor, she opened the cage and strode ahead.

Nathaniel hung back with Elise. “Who is that?”

“That’s my mother.” She clenched her jaw. “She doesn’t know who I am.”

They followed her to private quarters in a hallway on the east side of the tower. The rooms were large, but modest, and Elise recognized the battle-axes mounted on the wall as her father’s. He had almost cut off one of her fingers when he’d trained her to use them at eight years old. The axes were the only way that her parents had personalized the sitting room—that, and the family photo in a wooden frame on the table by the door.

Elise studied it as Ariane shut the door behind them. Her father was young and handsome. Ariane, mostly unchanged, had her arm around the shoulders of a little girl with auburn hair, freckled skin, and a big smile.

Ariane flitted around the room, flicking her fingers at totems on each wall. Magic flashed in the corners of Elise’s vision and a cool mist washed down her arms. Nathaniel watched the wards fall into place with great interest.

“Who are you?” Ariane asked as soon as she was done. “How do you know Hannah?”

“She’s my mom,” Nathaniel said.

Even through the buzz of Ariane’s protected mind, the flare of shock was impossible to miss. “
Mon dieu
.”

“I’ve brought Nathaniel to Hell so that we can get her back,” Elise said. “We need to find her as soon as possible. If you deal with all of the humans in Hell…”

“Let’s speak privately,” she told Elise.

Her mother led her into the next room—a kitchen—while Nathaniel continued to wander around the foyer to examine Ariane’s totems.

There were a lot of normal human supplies in the kitchen: a block of knives that Elise thought had probably been ordered off of the Home Shopping Network, nonstick skillets hanging on the wall, a basket of plastic measuring cups. But there was no toaster, no coffee machine, no refrigerator. Nothing that required electricity.

Ariane stopped in the middle of the floor, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Betty,” Elise said. “My name is Betty.”

Her mother tipped her head to the side. “Betty?” It
was
an awfully cute name for a demon. But Elise set her jaw and met her mother’s gaze. “You’re a fool for bringing Hannah’s son to Hell, Betty, no matter how pure your motivation. This is no place for normal adults, much less a child.”

Elise’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, really?”

“And the boy is wearing fiend leather. Hardly appropriate.” Ariane puffed air through her lips. “I didn’t know Hannah had a son. The father—where is he?”

Elise’s responding silence was enough of an answer for Ariane. The buzz of white noise in her head increased in intensity, and then she answered her own question.

“James.” She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, like she was gathering her strength. “I can tell you where Hannah is, but I can’t let you take Nathaniel to her. I’ll watch him here.” She faced the counter and began writing on a piece of paper. “There is a demon named Abraxas who is serving as judge for the Council. Though he has rooms in the Palace, he also keeps a property in the mountain district. Matters of the household are attended to by mortal slaves. Hannah is among them.”

Elise took the paper. It was a rudimentary map of the city of Dis, with the Palace marked on one side of the page, and a box on the other labeled “The House of Abraxas.” A word was written at the top of the paper as well: “Belphegor.”

“What’s Belphegor?” Elise asked.

“That’s the name of Abraxas’s steward. Watch for him—he will kill you and Hannah and every other slave if he feels it’s necessary to protect Abraxas’s interests.” Ariane peered around the corner of the kitchen door. Nathaniel was probing one of the animal skull totems with his fingertip.

“I could be killed for sharing this information.”

“Then why did you tell me?” Elise asked.

“I didn’t know that Hannah and James had a son,” she said simply. “Be swift. Be watchful. Be safe.”

Elise remembered Ariane telling her father the same thing: to be swift, watchful, and safe. There was power in the wish, traces of magic that Elise had never been able to see before. She had never realized that her mother was blessing her father every time he went out to hunt.

“Thank you,” Elise said, and she meant it. It was the most meaningful conversation she had shared with her mother in over fifteen years. Maybe in her entire life.

Ariane didn’t respond except to open the door.

Elise moved for the exit. When Nathaniel tried to follow, Ariane grabbed his shoulder. “You’re staying here with me,” she said in a falsely upbeat voice. “Don’t worry. Betty will be back soon.”

Nathaniel looked so shocked by the idea of getting left behind that he didn’t even react to the fake name. “Where are you going?”

There was no point in lying. He was a child, not an idiot. “Hannah’s being kept in the House of Abraxas. I’m going to get her back. It’ll be faster if you stay here.”

“Abraxas,” Nathaniel echoed.

“Yeah. Big, bad demon. Don’t worry about it; I’ve killed worse.”

He grabbed Elise’s hand, and his desperation swelled, crashing over her and making her skin rise in goosebumps. “But I need to come with you. I can help.”

She tugged free of his grip. Elise was prepared to tell him the truth—that he was just a child, useless in a fight, and a huge liability. But as Nathaniel’s thoughts fuzzed in and out of her head, she picked up a few images. He was imagining his mother in peril. Being helpless to save her. Elise had never had the luxury of worrying about her parents like that.

So instead of telling him that he was useless, Elise stooped a few inches so that their faces were level. “You’re too important to risk. I promise that I will bring your mother back to you. Do you trust me?”

Nathaniel hung his head, but he nodded.

“I trust you.”

“Good,” she said. She squeezed his shoulders. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Elise opened the door and phased into shadow.

A
s soon as
the door closed, Nathaniel faced Ariane. “I’m hungry,” he said. “And thirsty.”

She gave him a kind smile and ruffled his hair. “They’ll start serving dinner in a few hours. I’ll be happy to bring you something.”

“But I’m hungry now. I’ve been running around Hell for a while, and there’s nothing to eat.”

Ariane’s mouth drew downward in a frown. “I don’t have anything here.”

“Oh.” He sat down hard on one of the couches, doing his very best impression of sullen and miserable.

“Would you like to help me with a potion to restore the wards on the outer wall? I have just one or two more things to do, but I would appreciate the help.”

Nathaniel brightened at that. “Sure.”

She led him through a narrow door and into her ritual space, which was little bigger than a closet. There was a table on the wall opposite the altar, where she had a collection of bowls and jars. “You’re Hannah’s son, so you’ve grown up with the coven in Colorado, haven’t you?” Ariane asked. He nodded. “Did you know that I used to be with that coven, as well? I joined when I was just a little older than you.”

“I’ve never heard about you,” he said.

She started opening jars. “I suppose they don’t talk about me anymore. That’s probably for the best.”

“What’s a touchstone?” Nathaniel asked. “I’ve heard people talking about it.”

Ariane’s hands stilled. “Touchstones are people, not objects. It’s…an elected position, so to speak.” She tipped her head to the side to study him. “Have you discussed soul links with Landon?”

He nodded, even though he had actually only read about them in Landon’s journals. The coven didn’t want him to know about that kind of magic. “It’s a way to enchant something using your soul as a battery. So people who become touchstones are used for big spells, like the Palace wards?”

“No, it isn’t always for mere enchantments. The soul of one man or demon is linked to each principle of the Treaty of Dis, such as the law of blood, or the law of order. As long as that man lives, that law is as firmly entrenched in the fabric of existence as the laws of physics.” Ariane held out a hand. “Dragon’s blood, please.”

Nathaniel handed her a bag of red powder. “I don’t understand.”

“When the Treaty was established, it required immense power to enact. Angels and demons walked on every plane, and forcing these creatures to their individual realms was a challenge.” She drizzled oil on top of her herbs and began to mix. “The first touchstones were gods.”

“And now?”

“Gods have better things to do. The honor is bestowed upon the mightiest of heroes, instead.” Ariane gave a wan smile. “Such as my husband.”

“Wow. Which precept does he uphold?”

“Nobody knows—not even Isaac. Keeping such things secret is meant to help protect the touchstones from assassination attempts.” She slid the bowl across the table. “Give this your blessing.”

She was testing him, in much the same way that Nathaniel had tested Elise. But he didn’t want Ariane to know what he could do. He didn’t want anyone to know what he could do.

He blinked innocently. “Blessing?”

“Never mind.” Ariane etched the symbols in the air over the bowl with her fingertips. There was a
pop
, and the air smelled like gunpowder. “I’m ready to restore the wards, I think. You must stay in the room while I work. If you’re discovered… I can’t imagine your mother would be happy if I let you get killed, would she?”