Hades (16 page)

been?” I said. There was little point in trying to mask my

feelings.

“I understand you’re pining for lost love,” Jake said, in a

voice that sounded almost sincere. “But that human can’t

make you happy because he can never truly understand

what you are.”

I edged away from him, but his grip on my arm tightened

and he began tracing the network of veins beneath the

translucent skin. I flinched, remembering how his touch had

been accompanied by an uncomfortable burning sensation

in the past. It felt different this time, almost soothing. I

figured I was in Jake’s domain now and he could

manipulate things any way he chose.

When Jake left, I couldn’t settle and Tucker loitering by

the closed door only made me more uncomfortable. Instead

of returning to the fire, he withdrew an electronic device

from his pocket and began compulsively playing games to

wile away the time.

“You can sit down,” I suggested, remembering his lame

leg, which must have been bothering him because he kept

readjusting his position, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

He looked up for a moment, startled by my expression of

kindness.

“I won’t tel anyone,” I added with a smile.

Tucker hesitated a moment, then relaxed enough then to

slide down and sit with his back against the door.

“You oughta try ‘n’ git some sleep,” he suggested. It was

the first time I’d heard him speak or look at me directly. His

voice wasn’t what I expected. It was soft and mel ow with a

lilting Southern twang. The tone, however, was surprisingly

worldweary for someone his age. “If you’re worried about

Asia, she won’t bother you while I’m around.” He seemed

proud of his ability to keep watch. “She’s a piece of work,

but I ain’t easily fooled, despite what y’al might think.”

“I’m not worried,” I reassured him. “I trust you, Tucker.”

“You can cal me Tuck,” he said.

“Okay.”

Tuck hesitated, and then looked at me with interest.

“What makes you so sad al the time?”

“Am I that obvious?” I gave a smal smile.

Tuck shrugged. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m just thinking about the people I love … ,” I said, “and

whether I’l ever see them again.”

A pained expression crossed his face as though my

words had triggered troubling memories of his own to

resurface.

“You can see them again if you want to,” he said. It was

barely a murmur. Had I heard him right? Al my hopes were

suddenly roused, but I tried to keep my voice from

trembling.

“Excuse me?” I asked slowly.

“You heard me,” Tuck mumbled.

“Are you saying you know a way out of here?”

“I didn’t say
that
,” he snorted. “I said you could
see
them

again.”

This time he sounded mildly annoyed at having to explain

what should have been patently obvious. It struck me

suddenly that this lumbering boy with his crooked haircut

might know more than he was letting on. Could his

al egiance to Jake be merely pretense? Was it possible

that here was one person in al of Hades with a vestige of

conscience left? Was Tuck trying to tel me he was

prepared to help? There was only one way to find out.

“Tel me what you mean, Tuck,” I asked, my heart leaping

with expectation.

“There’s a way,” he said simply.

“Can you tel me?”

“I can’t tel you,” he answered. “But I can show you.” He

brought a broad finger up to his lip in warning. “But we have

to be careful. If we’re caught … ,” he trailed off.

“I’l do whatever I need to do,” I said determinedly.

“There are five rivers in Hades. One is for forgetting your

past life, but there’s another that let’s you return to it. Wel ,

at least temporarily,” Tuck said. “Drink from it and it wil give

you the ability to visit your loved ones whenever you like.”

“Visit them how?”

“You’l be able to project,” Tucker said. It seemed the

more he spoke, the less I understood what he meant. I

looked at him blankly, my previous expectation dwindling to

disappointment. It was entirely possible that Tucker wasn’t

even in his right mind. The fact that I was attaching so much

hope to what he had to say was a testament to my

desperation.

Tuck read the mistrust in my face and tried to be clearer.

“There’s things here you won’t have read about in books.

Drinking from the Lake of Dreams creates a trancelike

state that al ows your spirit to detach from your physical

body. It takes skil , but someone like you should pick it up

easy. Once you learn how to do it, you can go anywhere you

like.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Tucker looked dispirited at my lack of trust. “Why would I

lie? Jake’l have me thrown into the pit if he finds out.”

“Why help me then? Why risk your safety?”

“Let’s just say I’m fixin’ to settle a score,” he said. “Plus,

you look like you could real y use a home visit.” His lame

attempt at humor made me smile.

“Have you managed to? Go home, I mean?”

A forlorn look came into his eyes. “By the time I worked

out how there wasn’t much point, everyone I ever knew had

gone. But you could check on the people you care about

‘cuz they’re stil alive.”

The lake’s potential fil ed me with hope.

“Take me there now,” I begged.

“Not so fast,” he cautioned. “It can be dangerous.”

“How dangerous?”

“Take too much and you might not wake up.”

“And how is that bad?” The words slipped out before I

had a chance to think about them.

“It ain’t if y’don’t mind being in a coma for the rest of your

life, watching your family day in and day out like they’re

characters on a movie screen but never bein’ able to talk to

them or reach them. Is that what you want?”

I shook my head although admittedly it sounded a darn

sight better than what I had now.

“Okay,” I said. “You’re in charge of the dosage. But

you’ve gotta take me there right now!”

10

Devil’s Feast

WE were almost at the door when it opened with a muted

clack and Jake unexpectedly let himself into the room. Tuck

and I both started and tried to cover our confusion by

moving in entirely opposite directions. Jake arched an

eyebrow and looked at us quizzical y. He was dressed in a

charcoal dinner jacket and a red silk cravat.

“Good to see you’re stil up, darling,” he said in that

irritating formal manner of his, as if he were something out

of a 1950s movie. “I hope you’re hungry. I’ve come to take

you to dinner. It’s just what we need to lighten the mood

around here.”

“I’m actual y pretty tired,” I hedged. “I was planning on

going to bed.”

“Real y? Because you look wide awake to me,” he said,

scrutinizing my face closely. “More than awake—I’d say you

scrutinizing my face closely. “More than awake—I’d say you

look excited about something. Your cheeks are al flushed.”

“That’s because it’s always so overheated in here,” I

said. “Seriously, Jake, I was hoping to have an early night

… .” I tried to speak in what I hoped was an assertive tone,

but Jake cut me off by waving his hand irritably.

“Enough excuses. I’m not taking no for an answer, so

hurry up and get ready.” It struck me that he could be

capable of such erratic mood swings. One moment he

could be dark and threatening and the next as excited as a

schoolboy. Suddenly his tone became more upbeat and he

smiled. “Besides, I want to show you off!”

I threw Tucker an imploring look, but his face had

returned to its previous expressionless mask. There was

nothing he could say or do that wouldn’t get us both into hot

water.

“I just want to be left alone,” I said to Jake.

“Bethany, you must understand that there are certain

duties attached to your new position. There are important

people who are anxiously waiting to meet you. So … I’l be

back in twenty minutes and you’l be ready.” It was not a

request. He was almost out the door when he paused as if

a new idea had just occurred to him. “By the way,” he said

over his shoulder. “Wear pink tonight. They’l get a kick out

of that.”

Dinner was held in a lavish underground dining room lit

by a screen of fire at one end. In place of wal hangings the

room had an array of weaponry, including Roman shields,

spiked maces, and long blunt stakes—the kind Vlad the

Impaler might’ve had in his fourteenth-century Romanian

Impaler might’ve had in his fourteenth-century Romanian

castle.

As Jake and I were the first to arrive, we stood in the

flagged foyer as waiters served up finger food on silver

platters and French champagne from tal flutes. Peals of

frivolous laughter heralded the arrival of the other guests.

Looking around I saw they were mostly made up of elite

members of Jake’s court. Everyone who approached Jake

to pay his or her respects eyed me with unconcealed

fascination. Most were dressed elaborately in leather and

fur. In my powder pink dress with its scal oped neckline and

ful knee-length skirt, I felt distinctly out of place. I was

relieved to find that I couldn’t see Asia anywhere. I

wondered whether her exclusion was intentional. I was sure

it would only fuel her resentment toward me.

After a brief lapse of time a gong signaled the

commencement of dinner and we were al ushered to our

places at the long oak table in the dining room. As host,

Jake was seated at the center. Grim-faced, I slunk into my

designated seat beside him. Sitting directly in front of us

were Diego, Nash, and Yates, whom I’d first encountered in

the pit. With them were three strikingly dressed women. In

fact, al the assembled guests were beautiful, both male

and female alike, but in a strange and frightening way. Their

features were perfectly crafted as if from glass and yet they

looked so different from Ivy and Gabriel. I felt a pang

thinking of my brother and sister, immediately fol owed by

the sting of tears. I bit down hard on my lower lip to hold

them back. I might be naive, but I knew how unwise it would

be to show vulnerability in front of company like this.

be to show vulnerability in front of company like this.

I studied the faces around me. They were rapacious,

conceited, and sharp eyed. Their senses seemed

accentuated, as if they could hone in on scents and sounds

like wild animals programmed to hunt. I knew they could

make themselves appear as seductive and tempting as

ever when luring human prey. Although their beauty was

striking, there were times when I caught fleeting glimpses

as subtle as a passing shadow of their real features that lay

beneath the masks of perfection. What I saw made me

recoil. I could not suppress my shock when I realized that

they merely assumed the guise of humans for outward

appearances.

In their true form the demons were anything but perfect.

Their actual faces were beyond horrifying. I found myself

staring at a statuesque female with coils of chocolate

brown hair. Her skin was milky pale; her almond eyes an

electric blue. Her delicately hooked nose and round

shoulders made her look like a Grecian goddess. But

beneath the glamorous exterior she was an image of

putrefaction. Her skul was misshapen, with a bulging

forehead and a chin as pointed as a dagger. Her skin was

mottled and bruised, as if someone had beaten her, and