The Brimstone Deception (15 page)

Note the location in the city of any large explosion. Check.

“And Hell does have a well-deserved reputation for being flammable,” DiMatteo noted, with complete sincerity.

“The lab where it's being manufactured would need to
be state-of-the-art.” Dr. Cheban proceeded to launch into a ten-minute, PhD-level lecture of the chemical properties of each ingredient she'd isolated, with an accompanying rundown of how contact with molten heat would make them go “boom.”

When she'd finished, Roy spoke up. “And that, boys and girls, is why there aren't any meth labs in Hell.”

“So what kind of equipment are we talking about?” Ian asked. “And where would they get it?”

I knew where he was going with this. Some of Rake's real estate holdings were elven-owned laboratories and research facilities. We'd asked him to check if any had been working on any new drugs. He'd said he'd check and get back to us. It'd been a little over two hours. Nothing from Rake. Maybe his “monitors” had to check their records. Maybe not. Either way, I knew who Ian would be calling when we got out of this meeting.

“I'll e-mail you a list of the equipment, and where each item can be bought.” Cheban was typing insanely fast on her phone. “You can't get these things on eBay or off the shelf at Labs ‘R' Us, and the companies that manufacture them don't let just anyone walk in off the street and buy them. And then there's the cost—”

“We suspect that our pharmaceutical entrepreneurs have a loaded angel investor,” Ian told her.

“If money's no object, they could buy—or pay to have stolen—whatever they needed.”

There were beeps and tunes around the room as Cheban's e-mail came through.

“Check for thefts of items one through five,” she told us, referring to the numbered list she'd sent. “One and two are the most expensive and hardest to get.”

When the meeting concluded, Ian made a beeline for the elevators down to the motor pool and motioned me to follow.

“We going to see Rake?” I asked.

“Not yet. Now that we've had dinner, how about dessert?”

BY
the time Yasha stopped in front of Kitty's Confections on Bleeker Street in the Village, Ian had told me that we were here for more than a nighttime snack of red velvet cupcakes.

Apparently Kitty had a secret—a big one—and she'd kept it from everyone. Everyone except Vivienne Sagadraco, who, when the need proved great, had told Alain Moreau and Ian.

Kitty could close portals—big ones.

That implied that Kitty had the same level of power as the mega-mage who'd opened the Hellpit in the first place. I was having a tough time wrapping my head around that one. I was betting that the mega-mage, who'd essentially put out the welcome mat for the denizens of Hell, couldn't bake an angel food cake that was reported to have made actual angels weep.

Too bad this magical confrontation couldn't be settled with a bake-off.

“I take it from the personal visit, Kitty's going to be less than enthused about helping us,” I said.

“Significantly less than enthused,” Ian replied. “She had a bad experience. Her last name, Poertner, is German for Porter. Most people with that name had a distant ancestor who was stationed at a castle door. Kitty's people opened and closed a bigger kind of door.”

“Dimensional portals,” I said in realization.

Ian nodded. “The name's the same; the job couldn't be more different. For over a thousand years, Kitty's family have been the supernatural world's doorkeepers, or to be more exact, portalkeepers. Her specialty is stabilizing and closing dimensional rifts, which is essentially what we're dealing with here. We need to secure Kitty's help now, because it won't do us a damned bit of good to find the Hellpit if we don't have anyone who can close it.”

“I wouldn't think that'd be a problem. Kitty's awesome. When she hears that the world will literally go to Hell in a handbasket if she doesn't help, I'm sure she'll be glad to slam a door in some demonic faces.”

“It's a lot more complicated—and dangerous—than that.”

Lately, it seemed like everything was.

Kitty was due to close the shop in another fifteen minutes. Yasha dropped us off out front.

When we came in, Kitty took one look at our faces and motioned us straight back to the kitchen while she locked the door and turned off the lights in the front of the shop.

I'd never seen Kitty with any expression other than happy and smiling.

She wasn't doing either one now.

Mind reading wasn't one of Kitty's talents, but she seemed to know why we were there. Then again, Ian had come by to get lemon-blueberry scones for me after the squid demon had tried to drag me through the portal in the parking garage. Ian had known about Kitty's ability, so I was sure he'd told her
what had nearly happened to me. I realized that he'd known then that we'd be visiting Kitty for just this very reason, and he'd given her time to start thinking about her answer before he'd had to ask her the question—and before there was the pressure of a critical need.

A wise man, my partner.

Yep, Kitty knew exactly why we were here.

But it didn't change the fact that we were here to ask Kitty to do something that terrified her.

It sucked to be the bad guys.

Being the one who'd nearly been dragged through the garage portal, I suddenly felt like the visual aid for Kitty's impending guilt trip.

Kitty stuck her head in the kitchen and looked at me. “Are we going to need cupcakes for this?”

I sighed. “I could sure use one . . . or three.”

When life turned to crap, some people drank. I mainlined sugar.

Kitty returned to the kitchen, set a tray of miniature red velvet cupcakes down in front of us, and went to the big stainless steel refrigerator and brought out a gallon of milk. I found cups and a roll of paper towels and was good to go.

“And the people rejoiced,” I murmured, eying the cream-cheese-iced mouthfuls of culinary perfection. The cupcakes in the cupcake shops that'd sprung up to rival Starbucks in their numbers all had a Mount Everest tower of icing. I'd admit (though not to Kitty) that when I hadn't been near her bakery and was hit with a craving, I'd gone in those shops. More than once, I'd ended up with icing up my nose. Kitty's cupcakes had a perfect cake to icing ratio. My ultimate cupcake test came when I took the paper off. If the cake couldn't support the weight of its own icing and fell over . . . no, thank you. It was possible to have too much of a good thing, and that included icing. I drew the line at what I called bobblehead cupcakes.

“Where is it?” she asked us.

I frowned around a mouthful of cupcake.

“The portal,” Kitty clarified. “Where is it?”

I glanced at Ian.

“It's not exactly a portal,” he said. “As to where, we don't know. Yet.”

She regarded him with steady suspicion. It was an expression I'd never seen on her before. “If it's not exactly a portal, what exactly is it?”

I glanced at Ian again. I was really grateful to have a mouthful of cupcake. It'd be rude to answer Kitty's questions while eating.

“It's a Hellpit,” he told her. “Open somewhere under the city.”

“Full apogee?”

“Getting close.”

“Who opened it?”

“We're trying to find out.”

Ian told Kitty everything we knew so far. Sad thing was it didn't take long.

“And when you find it, you want me to close it.”

“We would like your advice, and if you're willing, your help.”

Kitty glanced at me. “Your partner's becoming quite the diplomat.”

I tried a smile. “I haven't noticed. He must like you more than he does me.”

“He just wants something.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm, I think that's a man thing.”

Ian raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, I'm just trying to lighten things up. If any situation ever needed lightening, it'd be an impending demonic invasion.”

“Why?” Kitty asked.

I puzzled over that one. “Marty says demons have always wanted our world. Bert thinks it's the beaches.”

Now it was Kitty's turn to be baffled. “I meant why would someone open a Hellpit?”

“Other than access to molten brimstone,” Ian said, “we don't know.”

“You said it was likely open before Halloween.”

“That's right.”

“That means a lot of power was involved.”

“We think that, too.”

“Such beings of power would have a motive other than getting an ingredient for a drug.”

“Even if they were being paid a lot of money?” I asked.

“It's been my experience—and that of my family—that those who can open a portal at will are rarely lacking money, nor can the things they want be bought with money. If you can find out what that motivation is, you'd be a couple steps closer to finding them or the Hellpit.”

“If we do find it, will you help us?”

“If you don't find it soon, you'll be beyond my help or anyone else's. After a major portal has been open for a full cycle of the moon, nothing short of a team of archangels can close it.”

“We're going to find it,” I told her.

“A word of warning: it could very well be contained in a small pocket dimension to conceal it from anyone who might stumble onto it.”

“I can see portals,” I told her.

Kitty gave me a quick, startled look.

“You didn't tell her?” I asked Ian.

“That information is need to know. When I was here yesterday, Kitty didn't need to know.”

“As far as I'm concerned, she does now.” I looked at Kitty. She was regarding me with something that looked almost like pity. “What?”

“If that gets out, you're in more danger than I am.”

I shrugged. “I'm a seer. I already have a bull's-eye from that. I can be the same amount of dead from two bull's-eyes than one. I don't know how I picked up this portal-seeing thing, but I have a sinking feeling that knowing how I got it
isn't going to help me get rid of it. Besides, from what I understand, it's quite the resume enhancer.”

Kitty smiled. Now that was the Kitty I knew.

I smiled back. “Sucks to be us right now, doesn't it?”

She glanced at Ian. “I don't really have a choice, do I?”

“You always have a choice.”

“One option could save the world; the other definitely damns it. Not what I'd call much of a choice. I'll make you a deal—you do your job—
and
get me what I need—and I'll do mine.”

*   *   *

We really couldn't have asked for more than that. If we found the Hellpit, Kitty would close it—or at least she'd try. It wasn't like anyone, including her, had on-the-job experience slamming the stairway to Hell.

Kitty had sent us on our way with a dozen cupcakes in her bakery's trademark pink box.

We'd walked out with cupcakes
and
a promise to help prevent demonic Armageddon. Now that was what I called a good night's work.

I refrained from diving into the box. I had a question for Ian, and I knew Yasha would appreciate me not getting cupcake crumbs all over the backseat of his partner.

“What did Kitty mean by ‘get me what I need'?”

Ian blew out his breath and leaned his head back against the seat rest. “An anchor mage.”

“Which is?”

“Pretty much what it sounds like. A mage who can anchor Kitty to this dimension while she works.”

“From the ‘sigh of eternal suffering' you just let out, I take it there's not a one eight hundred number for anchor mages.”

“No, there's not.”

“Difficult to get?”

“Impossible to get,” Yasha chimed in. “There are none in this country—at least not anymore. Only in Europe and Asia.”

“So Ms. Sagadraco can't just send over a company jet and pick one up?”

The Russian snorted. “All are worthless cowards.”

“Some aren't worthless, buddy,” Ian said. “And there's a few left who aren't cowards.”

Yasha took a particularly sharp turn, and I clutched the cupcake box to keep it from flying into the window. “Uh, a few left? Is there some kind of high job burnout rate for anchors?”

“More like a high rate of getting sucked into dimensions they're helping to close along with the portal mage and not being able to get back.”

“I can see why that'd make someone want to switch careers,” I said. “So what about the ones who are left?”

“They have established partnerships with portal mages, and only work with them.”

“So we fly a team over here. Kitty doesn't have to take the risk. A win-win.”

“More like a lose-lose,” Ian said. “They only do smaller portals.”

“Then what good are they?”

“Not much. Plus, if the portal's on American soil, they believe it's an American problem, and that more than likely, we'd brought it on ourselves and can deal with it the same way.”

“Bullshit. When those demons start pouring through, they may get us first, but I don't think they're gonna let a little thing like an ocean or two stop them. Not to mention, Europe and Asia have some amazing beaches.”

“These people would say they'd deal with that problem when it came to them.”

“And bit their faces off. I'm with Yasha. They're worthless cowards.”

From the driver's seat, the Russian werewolf vigorously nodded in approval.

“Even if there was a team who would be willing to help,” Ian continued, “Kitty's the last of her family line. She's the
best, and some would say good enough to do it by herself, no anchor needed.”

“What about anchor mages she's worked with in the past?”

That question earned me some uncomfortable silence.

“Okay . . . let me rephrase that: Are there any
surviving
anchor mages who she's worked with in the past?”

“No.”

I let out a low whistle. “Was she in some way responsible for that?”

“From what I've heard, no. Just piss-poor luck on the part of her anchors, and the fact that they were working on big and nasty portals no one else would touch. Higher risk, higher mortality. Other portal mages and anchors call her the Black Widow.”

“How did she survive when they didn't?”

“Kitty is brave,” Yasha said. “They are cowards.”

“I have to agree with you there,” Ian told him.

“How do you know all this?” I asked Yasha. “I thought only the boss, Moreau, and Ian knew.”

“Kitty is friend. She talks to me.”

I could understand that. Yasha was big, but once you got to know him, you realized his heart was as big as the rest of him. Our big werewolf was also a big teddy bear. I'd also told Yasha things I hadn't told anyone else at SPI. Now I knew I wasn't the only one. I was glad Kitty had realized she could trust him. Everyone needed someone they could tell anything to and not worry about being judged for it.

“So what happened?” I asked them both.

“The last major portal Kitty closed was eight years ago,” Ian said. “The portal was to a previously unknown dimension that really wasn't that much better than Hell. A monster, for lack of a more descriptive word, started coming through. Kitty held on and kept working. Her anchor mage panicked and released the protective spell on both of them. The spell Kitty was using to close the portal gave her some protection; her anchor was defenseless—”

“Because he was coward and dropped shields on him and Kitty,” Yasha said vehemently. “Deserved to be eaten by blue monster.” He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “My opinion.”

“If Kitty hadn't been strong enough to shield herself and continue working, she'd have been eaten, too,” Ian added. “She doesn't trust anyone to have her back now.”

I snorted. “With good reason. I take it this wasn't the first time it'd happened?”