The Crossing (Immortals) (23 page)

She hiked herself to her feet; she heard Mac do the same.
She wished she could see him, at least a little, but the darkness was so complete she couldn't even see the shadow of
her hand in front of her face. Feeling her way around the
close confines of the elevator car, she found the button and
pressed it. Nothing. Groping to the right, she found a vertical seam in the door and tried to pry the two halves open.
She succeeded only in ripping off a fingernail.

She sucked her cuticle and cast her senses toward the
door, trying to determine the nature of the magic that
held it shut. She launched one death spell after another, until both her repertoire and her strength were exhausted.
Magic didn't seem to work right inside the confines of the
elevator. She couldn't even keep a flame of hellfire going,
for illumination.

The quiet rasp of Mac's breath sounded behind her. He
hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. His breathing was calm.
Even. Hers was rapid. Erratic. She found the button
again, pressed it even though she knew it was futile. Then
another thought struck. She ran her hands up the wall and
found a small hinged panel. She tore it open and found an
emergency phone. "Hello? Hello?"

The line was dead.

She shouted into it, anyway. "Malachi! Are you there?
Answer me! You have to believe me, I had nothing to do
with this. I didn't know he was coming after me-"

With a muttered curse, Mac snatched the receiver from
her fingers. The next instant it crashed against the wall.
Sparks briefly illuminated the harsh lines of his face.

"Oh gods." Artemis slid into a crouch, her back pressed
against the wall, and covered her hands with her face. What
if they never got out?

"Stupid," she muttered under her breath. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

She fell silent. Damn, but it was hot in here. Sweat
trickled between her breasts. Interminable seconds ticked
by. When Mac finally spoke, his voice was flat.

"Want to tell me what's going on here? What's so important you're willing to sell yourself, body and soul?"

A cold, heavy fist clenched where her heart should have
been. She blinked back tears. "My son. Alexander. I... I
call him Zander."

"Named for you, is he?"

"Yes. After my middle name."

"You told me he was sick. Was that a lie?"

"I... no. It's the truth, sort of. Zander's... not well."

"Is he dead?" Mac asked bluntly. "Is that what this is about? Some insane scheme to rescue your loved one from
the underworld? You know that's impossible. It didn't work
for Orpheus, love, and it's not going to work for you." His
tone softened, marginally. "There are rules about this kind
of thing, Artemis. Absolute rules not even a god can break,
no matter how much you may want to."

"Zander's not dead." She barely choked out the words.
"He's... he's in a hospital. In Philadelphia."

She could feel Mac's puzzlement. "Then why aren't you
by his side? Why come to Scotland to assault faeries? You
know stolen life essence won't help. Neither will demons.
Why make a deal with Malachi? What on earth are you
trying to do, Artemis?" His tone roughened. "And why
won't you tell me?"

"Because you... you can't help me," she said in a
small voice. "On earth, in Annwyn, your life magic is
awesome. In Hell-life magic is next to worthless." She
raised her head. "But you cast death magic in Malachi's
realm. How?"

"Let's back up a moment, love. My questions first. Your
son is in Philadelphia. But you're bent on going to Hell."

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her. "Yes."

VV 11 ""WLY?.

She linked her arms around her bent legs and pressed
her forehead to her knees. "Zander's body is alive in
Philadelphia. But his soul... it's not there with him, Mac.
It was stolen. By a demon."

"By Malachi?"

"No. Not Malachi. By another demon. But that demon
wouldn't negotiate, so I summoned Malachi and struck a
deal. Life essence in return for his assistance in rescuing
Zander's soul."

"Artemis," Mac said gently. "If Zander's soul was stolen,
then he's dead. A body can't live without a soul."

"No. That's not true. Some humans can live without a
soul, for a short time. And for a boy like Zander, who has demon ancestors-he could stay alive for months. Half a
year, maybe."

"How long's it been, love?"

"Five months," Artemis whispered. "Five months,
twenty-seven days, six hours..." It was difficult to take
her next breath, but somehow she managed it. "He's... in
something like a coma. But the trauma is psychic, not
physical. He's well cared for. The last time I called the
hospital, his nurse told me he looked very peaceful, like he
was sleeping. I just wish... oh, I just wish I was there with
him...."

Mac touched her arm. She startled; she hadn't realized
he was so close. His arm went around her shoulder. Instinctively, she leaned into him. His touch was a cool oasis
in the thick, oppressive darkness.

"He wouldn't know you, love, even if you were there.
Not if his soul is gone."

"I know." She sniffed. "But... I want to hear his voice.
So badly. If I could only hear him call me Mommy, just
one more time..." She lost her battle with her tears. "I
have to get to his soul. Soon. Time's running out. It's being held on the lowest level of Hell."

"How are you so sure it's there and not in one of the demon realms?"

"The demon who stole Zander's soul doesn't have a
death realm outside Hell. She reigns in Ptolomaea, a sector in Hell's deepest layer. It's the only place beyond the
Styx where innocent, living souls can survive indefinitely.
Hecate has a special hunger for living souls. Mostly ones
belonging to children. She collects them on Earth and imprisons them in Hell."

"Hecate the hag?" Mac's surprise was evident. "She's the
demon that stole your son's soul?"

"Yes. Do you know her?"

"Of course. Scotland's been her favorite hunting ground
ever since that mess with Macbeth. She mainly haunts humans, but I've encountered her a few times over the
years, when she dared to interfere with Celtic creatures.
Hecate's one of the few demons who confine themselves
to one sex when they take human form. You won't find a
nastier bitch anywhere. How did she find your son all the
way in the States?"

Artemis closed her eyes. In the darkness, it made no difference to her sight, but somehow she felt as though she
were hiding.

"It's my fault," she said brokenly. "I called her."

She couldn't see Mac's face, but she felt his disapproval
just the same.

"You summoned her? Gods in Annwyn, why?"

"It... was part of my job. In the army. Psychic ops
deals with demons all the time."

"But you're a civilian now."

"Yes. I got out, last year, after the Immortals' battle restored the balance of magic. But I was born to the army.
My family's aptitude for both life and death magic makes
us perfect psy soldiers. Both my parents were psy-ops.
Both were killed in action."

"It that where you met your husband? In the military?"

"Zander's father, do you mean? We were never married,
but yes, we served in the same unit, and sometimes...
well, you know how it is. We didn't plan the pregnancy. It
just... happened."

"An accident, was it?" Mac's voice sounded strained.

"Yes. I suppose you could say that."

"Where's Zander's father now?"

Artemis sighed. "Dead, too. It happened two years ago,
at the start of the death-magic surge. Dennis was on a
routine mission when he was ambushed by a gang of rogue
vampires. They drugged him up and turned him against
his will."

"Gods."

She shivered. "It was awful. He came back a few nights later, pretending nothing had happened. The vamps had
set him up as an inside man, so they could get a crack at
our armory. But Dennis was pale as death, and when he
crawled into bed, his skin was cold and dry. I touched his
neck, and found the puncture marks." She was silent for a
moment. "He tried to turn me as well. I fought, and somehow managed to call for backup. He died fighting, like
he'd always said he wanted. Unfortunately, it was for the
wrong side."

"You must have been devastated to lose someone you
loved like that."

"I was. Dennis was a good man. But... I still had Zander. He kept me sane, even when the world was falling
apart. I would have left the army after Dennis died, but
with death magic exploding everywhere, I couldn't take
that option. I had to stay and fight. That was when I first
encountered Hecate. The army routinely made deals, you
see, with demons willing to promote our short-term objectives. Hecate was one of those. She helped, but she had
more in mind than the payment the army offered. She had
her eye on Zander. She'd sensed a glimmer of his soul
through mine, and had marked it. It was subtle. At the
time, I didn't realize what she'd done."

"What happened then?"

"The Immortals happened. You happened. Death magic
took a hit, and everything changed. Suddenly, there wasn't
anything keeping me in the military. Psy-ops was downsizing. I took my pension and left. Zander and I settled in
Philly. He went to first grade at the local public school, I
got a job at a magical arts store on South Street. What I
didn't know was that Hecate was watching us. She made
her move just after Beltane. Since then, Zander's body has
been nothing more than an empty shell." She paused. "I
summoned her, of course. I offered to negotiate for his release. She laughed at me."

"So you turned to Malachi."

"He seemed the best bet. I knew he'd been Hecate's rival for centuries. Millennia, even."

"What did he agree to do, in exchange for the faerie life
essence?"

"Provide me safe passage to Ptolomaea. And he pledged
me an army of lesser demons to use in my fight against
Hecate. His own assistance, even, toward the end."

"Brave of him, to wait until it was clear how the battle
was progressing, before risking his own arse," Mac commented. "And what if you lost the battle, regardless of
Malachi's assistance?"

"Most likely, I would have become Hecate's slave."

She wasn't sure how to interpret the silence that followed. Was Mac angry? Did he think her a fool? Was he
just disgusted? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Finally, he spoke. "I can't imagine Malachi was pleased
when you showed up without the moonstone."

She let her head fall back against the elevator wall. "He
wasn't. I had to renegotiate."

"And?" The single word dripped like acid.

She forced the words out. "I agreed to be Malachi's
whore for seven years. But Zander will be free. That's the
only thing I care about."

Mac's voice vibrated in the dark, low and angry. "Has
Malachi had you yet?"

She winced. "No. Not yet. Not until Zander is safe."

"But you signed a contract. In blood."

Thick, hot air filled her lungs on a painful inhale. Now
she was damn glad she couldn't see Mac's face. "Yes. I did.
And as long as Malachi keeps his end of the bargain...
I'll honor my word. I'll become his whore."

"No. You won't. As of right now, Artemis, your contract
with Malachi is void. You're under my protection. You
and-" He cut off abruptly, clearing his throat. "You don't
need Malachi's help. You've got me. I'll get you to Ptolomaea and back. I'll rescue your son. I swear it."

"You, Mac? You can't possibly be serious! You're a creature of life magic! What do you know of Hell and death?"

"Not much, love, I admit. But I'm a very fast learner."

"It won't work. Your life magic will be practically useless in Hell."

"I'll wager my death magic works just fine."

"Your-" She broke off. "Yes. Your death magic. I asked
you about that before. How did you do it? It shouldn't
have been possible. You're a creature of pure life magic."

"Not pure, Artemis. Not anymore."

"I don't understand."

"Here. It'll be easier to show you."

His hand reached for hers, fumbling in the darkness.
Their fingers caught and clasped. A spark of dark, ugly energy leaped from his body to hers.

It came from his soul.

She drew back, stunned. "But... how?"

"It came from the battle to save Tain. The bloke was
mad-driven over the edge by death magic. In order to restore his sanity, his brothers each absorbed a piece of Tain's
darkness. Somehow, I ended up with a bit, too. I don't pretend to know exactly how it happened. I didn't even realize
I'd been... wounded... until just a few days ago." He
paused. "This is the first time I've considered what happened a good thing. Because it let me follow you here."

"Oh, Mac." She brought his hand to her cheek and
pressed his palm flat against her skin. He was so... alive.
She'd been so entranced by his light, she never even suspected his soul hid darker secrets. But now that she knew,
it made sense. The restlessness she'd sensed in him, the
vulnerability, the soul-deep anger... those were the trappings of death magic, not life.

"You... you really think you could help me get to the
bottom of Hell?" she whispered.

"I don't think you can get there on your own. Your death magic is strong, Artemis, but what about your life
essence? That's finite, and every demon in Hell will be angling for it. Travel with me, and you'll have an infinite
supply. You won't need Malachi's protection. As for any
threats we'll encounter-I'm still getting the knack of this
death magic thing, but your tutoring will shorten my
learning curve, I'm sure."

"You want me to teach you death spells?" She couldn't
fathom it. "I don't know, Mac-"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, love."

"It's got nothing to do with that. Mac, this isn't your
fight. Whatever sliver of death magic you possess, it can't
be nearly enough to protect you. You can't die, but you
could end up imprisoned for eternity. No." She moved
away from him, breaking contact. "No, I'll just wait for
Malachi to find me. He'll uphold his end of the contract,
and you can go home."