No Place Like Hell (36 page)

Maggie swept an arm over the tableau before us. "You'll be my witness. You'll see the mighty Judge Innes cut down to size."

I blinked. As a man, Innes wasn't well-liked. He came across as crusty and opinionated, and he didn't look favorably on career women. But he'd always been fair on the bench. If you made a solid case, your perp went down.

"Why him?"

Maggie's demeanor changed, and the deeper voice replied. "It's good to have friends in the criminal courts."

So Holmes was lining up people who could protect him from the consequences of what he intended to do in his basement torture chamber. I'd be his first customer, but no one would ever find my remains. It turned my stomach.

Warner handed me to Bronski and picked up the syringe on the crate. He inserted the tip into the catheter on Innes' arm. Maggie walked to the rune spiral and knelt at Zachary's head. Her eyes closed, and she began to chant strange, unintelligible sounds. Bronski shifted his feet.

The rune closest to Zachary glowed red. In a few seconds, a second rune colored. One by one, the runes lit up. When half of them glowed softly, they began to pulse in a heartbeat-like rhythm, each beat sparking another in the chain.

Fear blocked my throat and steeled my muscles. I took an involuntary step forward. Bronski jerked me back with a grip sure to leave a bruise.

When the last rune closed the circle, Warner pressed the plunger on the syringe. Innes recoiled in pain and stopped breathing. Maggie swept the dagger down and ripped Zachary from sternum to groin.

Blood fountained from Zachary's chest. Maggie plunged her hands in, and after a moment, came away with his heart. She held it aloft with a grim smile. Then she stabbed the dagger into Zachary's throat and rose.

Sweat ran from Warner's brow, and worry lines formed at the corners of his eyes. The IV line no longer drip-dripped but ran wide open. He'd removed the tape from Innes' mouth and replaced it with the Ambu bag, which he squeezed twice. Then he dropped the resuscitator and picked up the paddles of the defibrillator.

The device whined and beeped. Warner punched the buttons to release their charge into the judge's chest. Innes jerked and fell back, still. Warner swore, set the defibrillator to recharge, and tried again.

After the second shock, Innes' chest heaved up, stuttered, and settled into an erratic breathing pattern. Warner checked for a pulse in Innes' neck. Satisfied with what he discovered, he rocked back on his heels and worked to untie the knots in the ropes.

Maggie walked over to stand beside Warner. She held the dripping heart in her hand.

"How is he?" she asked.

Warner glanced up at her face, then at the heart. His gaze returned to Judge Innes.

"He's good to go."

A triumphant look settled on her features. "Bronski, take Ms. Demasi back to the basement. When she's secured, help Warner get the judge to a bedroom. Then clean up this mess."

Bronski jerked me away towards the door. He seemed in a hurry to get out of the shed. Drops of sweat beaded on his upper lip. He stared at the ground, paying little attention to me.

This was probably my only chance of escape. I waited to see if anyone followed us to the house. When no one emerged from the shed behind us, I clenched my fists and swung at Bronski's face.

Bronski flinched, and my fist connected with his cheek instead of his nose as I'd intended. He shoved me forward and down. His fist came like a freight train. Pain shot through my head, and the lights went out.

62

I burned in Hell. That's how it felt. Sweat drenched my face. The air was too hot to breathe. My jaw ached, and my head throbbed.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the basement chained to the wall. Murmuring voices and a metallic rattle drew my attention to the far end of the room.

Warner and Bronski wrestled a blanket-wrapped form through the upper furnace door. The glow of hot flames flickered beneath it. I sucked in a breath and stared.

When they'd finished, Warner mopped his face with his forearm. Bronski shifted from foot to foot and watched the furnace, nervous energy overcoming the heat-induced lethargy he should have felt.

Warner walked down the room to me, pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, and removed the single manacle bracelet fastened around the center of the handcuffs. He hauled me up.

A new wave of pain swept over me, accompanied by nausea. I swayed, and the light in the room dimmed. Then the blackness receded, and Warner pulled me to the door.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You're to watch, so you understand who's boss," Warner said. He didn't look happy about it.

Bronski led the way out of the basement and into the cooler air of the kitchen. We traipsed through a dim hallway and onto the front porch.

Blistering light blinded me. I squinted at the sky. The sun stood directly overhead. We'd reached the solstice.

Bronski hesitated, eyes shifting between Warner and the packing shed.

"I don't like it," Bronski said. "There's something about that Sleeth guy. We should have done him in, not brought him here."

Sleeth was alive. One more person I should rescue. If only I could rescue myself.

"You want to get paid," Warner said, "you'll do what she says."

Warner didn't wait for Bronski to respond. He dragged me across the lawn and dusty yard at a brisk pace. Too soon, we reached the packing shed.

"Don't do this," I pleaded. "Help me stop her. I'll put in a good word with the DA."

Warner grunted and opened the shed door.

Inside, light shone through skylights in the roof, giving the space a large, airy feel. Warner marched on while Bronski's footsteps slowed behind us. If I could talk to him alone, maybe I could convince him to turn on Maggie and help me escape.

As we approached the rear of the space, the body on the floor caught my eye. Sleeth lay spread-eagled over smears of blood and charcoal dust, on top of a freshly-drawn pentagram. His eyes were closed. Under his tanned skin, shadows roiled and writhed.

Black candles flickered at each point of the star, and just beyond them, runes formed a closed circle. Outside the circle, one at each candle, Maggie's kidnap victims waited.

When Tad saw me, he took an involuntary step my direction. His hand lifted toward me, and his eyes were haunted with worry. Then both his hand and face fell. He turned away.

Maggie crawled on hands and knees, scrawling a second circle of runes six feet beyond the first circle. No spiral here, just the enclosing scribbling of a mad woman.

"Hurry up," she said and gestured us inside the outer circle.

When we moved through the gap, she drew shapes to close the circle. She pulled a dagger from under her black robe, pricked her finger, dropped blood on the final rune, and muttered something under her breath. The second rune circle pulsed to ruby life.

Maggie faced us all and pointed to the outer circle. "Step over that and you die."

Stunned silence greeted her proclamation. Bronski licked his lips and raised a hand to rub his chest. Warner looked grim and tightened his grip on my arm.

Maggie distributed scraps of paper to each of the people gathered around the circle: Tad, Chief Greene, and Judge Innes. George White, a rich businessman and supporter of Mayor Newell's, stood at the fourth point of the star. He must be the man sacrificed so Colleen Hobert could be free of her contract with Calderon.

"When we begin, you will repeat what's on the paper until I tell you to stop," Maggie said in that eerie voice I associated with her Holmes personality. "If you don't cooperate and I succeed, you leave me no choice but to destroy your heart for your disloyalty and lack of gratitude. I saved you from a fate so horrible you can't imagine it. I will save all Mankind from ever facing the fires of Hades again.

"If you don't cooperate and I fail, the hellhound will be set loose. It will take all our souls to Hell. You would condemn those standing with you to eternal torture. To prevent its escape while I destroy it, you must chant until the ceremony is complete."

These were normal, intelligent people listening to the threats and ranting of a madwoman. I had to stop the insanity before they killed Sleeth.

"Don't do it," I said. "You've done nothing wrong yet, but if you help her, you'll be accomplices to Sleeth's murder."

"Sleeth is long since dead. It's the unholy creation of Satan that animates his flesh. I've trapped the hellhound there, and when I destroy the flesh, I'll destroy Hell's conduit for the damned. All the incarcerated souls will be released from their punishments. Satan's realm will be destroyed forever."

I focused my attention to the others in the circle. They were my only hope. But would they believe me?

"She kidnapped each of you, pumped you with drugs, and brainwashed you into accepting this hogwash about saving you from Hell. She's a vicious murderer, not Mankind's savior. You have to stop her."

Doubt crossed the faces of the judge, the businessman, and the chief. Tad frowned, and his gaze shifted from Maggie to Warner and back, a calculating look in his eyes.

"You see my power in the runes, don't you?" Maggie gestured to the pulsing outer circle.

"I've seen an elephant disappear and a guy teleport out of a locked chest at the bottom of a river. None of it was real. Your fancy lights aren't, either."

I lowered my voice and looked into Maggie's crazed eyes. "Maggie, you're a cop and a good one, not a cold-blooded murderer. Put the knife down and let us go. I'll get you the help you need."

Tad edged closer to me but spoke to the other three kidnap victims. "Nicky's right. If Maggie gets help, she won't be able to hurt
anyone
."

Warner's grip tightened on my arm, and his other hand drifter closer to his pistol. "You're not pinning everything on us while she skates with an insanity plea."

Judge Innes flexed his hands and looked at Warner. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. "Shoot her. We're influential people. We'll testify that you saved us. You'll get off with parole."

I went stiff and waited for Warner's reaction. If he drew the gun, I'd make a grab for it. Once he started shooting, he might see that it was more expedient to kill
all
the witnesses to his crimes.

"You say that now, but when the case came to trial, you'd send Warner to the gas chamber," Maggie said.

Greene shook his head. "No we wouldn't."

Rage rippled over Maggie's face. Her hand plunged into a cloak pocket and withdrew a human heart that looked remarkably fresh. She held it aloft.

"Disloyal ingrates! I'll show you power." Her fist squeezed the organ.

Innes gasped, clutched his chest and dropped to his knees.

Maggie turned a vicious stare on me. "If she speaks again, shoot her."

Warner drew the pistol from his belt and pointed it at me. His expression said he'd have no problem following his instructions.

I gritted my teeth. I'd come so close to persuading the others until Innes' psychosomatic display.

"Places," Maggie said, waving the heart around the circle before returning it to her cloak.

Innes struggled to his feet. The other three reluctantly took positions behind the candles at Sleeth's hands and feet.

Maggie stood inside the inner circle near Sleeth's shoulder. She pricked her finger and dripped blood on the rune at her feet before moving to his side. She nodded to the others to begin.

Her eyes closed, and she chanted unintelligible consonant and vowel combinations that sounded a little like a Catholic mass. The others stumbled over the foreign words as they joined in. The runes shimmered to life in pairs, one to the left and one to the right of Maggie's position. When the circle closed, the runes flared and settled into a pulse that matched the outer circle.

The dark shadows swirling under Sleeth's skin coalesced into a black mass centered down his midline. Maggie raised the dagger in front of her chest and chanted on.

The hair on my neck and arms stood on end, as though I'd touched something electrified. Overhead, the first crackle of miniature lightning arced across the circle. A second bolt followed.

The four chanters gasped and stuttered at the display. Maggie's eyes opened, and she shot them a mean look. They resumed their chants, slightly out of sync.

Bronski shifted back, his eyes wide, his face white. His arms were stiff and his fingers splayed. Sweat glistened on his brow.

Warner's lips pulled into a hard line. His fingers dug into my arm. The barrel of the gun never wavered.

Beside me, Bronski screamed. In a blind panic, he spun and lunged toward the door. When he hit the outer line of runes, a curtain of red light blazed, just as it had when Dave died. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, but his speed was too great. His momentum carried him over the line.

The curtain flashed brilliant, blinding red. More lightning split the air. Bronski plunged to the floor just beyond the runes and rolled to his back. His eyes were wide and unseeing, his face pulled into a terrible death rictus.