Aurora didn’t have a chance to ask Hawkyn what he meant by saying they were going to Hell. One moment they were baking like oatmeal raisin cookies in her house, and the next they were standing on some sort of raised platform in a place that resembled part of an ancient Greek city.
She looked down at the round stone pad beneath their feet. “How did you do this?”
“Angels can flash directly to or from this portal. Almost everyone else arrives via a twin portal in the human realm.”
Okay, but where, exactly, were they? Lush, green grounds stretched forever, dotted by fountains and forests, streams and paths. A massive white building with doors that could allow entrance to a dinosaur was flanked by smaller buildings, temples, and courtyards where people sparred or practiced with weapons, and seated in a small amphitheater nearby, what appeared to be a handful of bored-looking students were listening to a robed guy giving a lecture.
“This...this is Hell?”
“Sort of.”
How could someplace be “sort of” Hell? Was it like how his father was “sort of” evil?
Hawkyn squeezed her hand, pressing his palm against hers in just the right spot, and a current of energy sizzled up her arm, astonishing in its intensity and made even more astonishing by the fact that she could feel it spilling into the empty tank inside her that held her power. Usually she had to make an effort to absorb energy from people, and it was a slow, steady charge; it never rushed in like water from a broken dam.
When he released her hand, her knees wobbled from the sudden disconnection from his nuclear-grade fuel. He gave her a brief once-over that wasn’t remotely sexual, but tingles followed wherever his gaze landed.
“You okay?” he asked.
No. Not at all. Touching an angel running on a full battery took some getting used to.
“I’m fine. Just a little freaked out about being in Hell, you know?” Holy shit. “This isn’t exactly what I expected.”
“That’s because this probably isn’t what you think it is.” He nodded in the direction of a marble statue of two horned, hooved demons fighting with a trident and a spear. “The demon realm is called Sheoul—it’s what most people think of when they reference Hell. But Sheoul isn’t where evil human souls go.” He made an encompassing gesture with his hand. “This is Sheoul-gra, sort of a sub-realm that houses the true Hell, where the souls of demons and evil humans are kept until they’re reincarnated.”
She looked around, but it was hard to believe this place was full of malevolent souls. “I don’t understand. Where are the souls?”
He guided her down a stone path toward a blocky building with a lot of glass-less windows. “They’re kept in the Inner Sanctum.”
“I see,” she said, even though she didn’t. “So why are we here?”
“It’s where I live.”
She nearly tripped over her own feet. Angels lived in Hell? Since when? What was happening? Somehow she managed to not blurt any of that out, instead keeping her cool the way her brother had always taught her and asking just one tame question. There would be others later. Many others.
“Why?” she asked. “Angels living in Hell is contrary to everything I was ever taught.”
Not that she’d gone to church or anything, but seeing how religion was everywhere, she’d managed to pick up a few things, and one constant in all the various religions that mentioned angels was that they resided in the other, less demon-y place.
As they walked through a grassy courtyard, he explained how Memitim were raised by humans, taken from the human world as young adults, and trained at various locations around the world, but that they could also come here to live and train...because apparently, their father, the father of all Memitim, ruled this realm.
As they approached a building Hawkyn called Hotel Hell, panic frayed the edges of her control. She was in a strange place full of strange beings, and she didn’t know nearly enough to be comfortable here in the least. She needed more information before she went any further.
Planting her feet, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Wait. I need more.”
He gazed down at her, his brow furrowed. “More what?”
“Information.”
“Such as?”
A bird flew by, a bird that looked a lot like a robin. But hey, sure, if there were angels living in Hell, why not robins?
Aurora looked around, wondering if all the people milling about were his brothers and sisters. “You said your father rules this realm? Who is he?”
Please don’t say Satan. Please don’t say Satan. Please don’t say Satan.
“His name is Azagoth,” he said, and she nearly giggled at how foolish she’d been to think, even for a measly second, that a legendary being as evil as Satan could father angels. “You probably know him as the Grim Reaper.”
Her knees went wobbly again, but for a very different reason. She stumbled, but in a blur of motion, Hawkyn caught her, steadying her against his hard body.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I took too much blood.”
“No,” she said quickly. “No. This is just a lot to take in. I mean, forty-eight hours ago I wasn’t even sure God was real, and now I’m in...in...Hell. With the Grim Reaper.”
“I get it.” He nodded in sympathy. “I thought I was human until one of my Memitim brothers plucked me out of a bad situation and dropped me inside a Belgian castle full of fellow angels.”
“And how did you take it when your world was turned upside down?”
Winking, he gave her a panty-melter of a grin. “I passed out cold.”
She laughed, doubting it was true but appreciating that he was trying to make her comfortable in a freaky situation. But the reality caught up with her again when one of the demons in the statue she’d seen a few minutes ago moved, curling its lips and revealing another row of sharp six-inch teeth.
“Thank you for getting me away from Drayger,” she said, keeping one eye on the creepy statue, “but I can’t stay here indefinitely. I can stay at a hotel in Portland or in one of the guest rooms at the spa where I work.” Her boss, Jenna, was always letting employees stay when they needed to, so it most likely wouldn’t be a problem. Just an inconvenience.
“No, you can’t.” He waved at a group of people talking around a picnic table. So normal. So weird. “Drayger is dangerous. He can somehow track his victims anywhere in the world in hours, and until we find out how, you can’t be anywhere he can easily get to you.”
“This is bullshit.” He’d started moving again, but she refused to budge. None of this made sense, and if her life was going to be upended, she wanted to know why. “I shouldn’t have to run from someone who should be in jail, and who would be in jail if I went to the police. And you still haven’t explained why you’re protecting the bastard.”
He opened his mouth, and she could see it in his face. He was going to spew more “It’s a long story” BS. No. Just no.
She jammed a finger into his sternum and got right up in his face. On her tiptoes. Later she’d probably be horrified by her audacity in going toe to toe with an angel, but in this moment, for her own sanity, she needed to be in charge.
“I want to know what the deal is.” She poked hard. “Now.”
“You’re right.” Reaching up, he engulfed her hand in his. He didn’t push her away. He just looked at her, almost with amusement. “I wasn’t going to do this, but come on.”
He wheeled around and, keeping hold of her hand, which she angled so he wouldn’t touch the spot near her index finger that would trigger a download of his nuclear-grade energy, he led her through a side door of the massive Greek manor. Once inside, he guided her through a shiny, modern kitchen that could have belonged to an upscale restaurant.
“This kitchen serves my father and his mate, and all his senior staff. There are more kitchens in the dorm buildings that serve Memitim and Unfallen.”
“Unfallen?”
“Fallen angels who haven’t entered Sheoul,” he explained. “When an angel loses his wings, he or she is dropped into the Earthly realm and has two choices. They can enter Sheoul and complete their fall from grace in trade for evil powers, or they can remain powerless and disgraced, but still have a chance of redeeming themselves.” He pushed open a door and they stepped into an elegant dining hall, its walls covered in tapestries and art depicting scenes from eras all over the world. And underworld. “They live here because it’s safe.”
“What do Unfallen angels have to fear?”
“Everything. Since they lose their angelic powers and don’t have fallen angel powers either, they’re weak. Heavenly angels will kill them, and fallen angels will drag them against their will into Sheoul, which turns them evil. Demons have little use for them, either, and they score a lot of bragging points by being able to say they killed an angel, even if they’re just Unfallen.” He glanced at his watch. “We should still have time...”
“Time for what? You were supposed to be telling me why you’re protecting Drayger.”
He knocked on another door. “I’m enlisting help to do that.”
The door swung open, revealing a smaller room, cozy, with a couple of sofas, overstuffed chairs, and a coffee table all arranged in a circle. As they walked inside, two women looked up from the papers and colored markers scattered on the tabletop.
“Hey, bro.” One of them gave a little wave and tucked a lock of dark curls behind her ear. “Lilliana and I were just planning next week’s menu. Any requests?”
“Yeah. How about that New York strip steak you make? The one with the feta and caramelized onions.” He grinned at Aurora. “It’s awesome.” His palm pressed lightly on her back. “Suzanne, Lilliana, this is Aurora. I have to summon someone from the embassy, and I was hoping that while I’m doing that you could fill her in on...well...this.” He made a gesture that she figured encompassed all the weirdness.
Lilliana seemed to understand, because she looked both amused and sympathetic. “Of course. But I’m going to need some context.”
Hawkyn hesitated, and Aurora started to sweat a little. Then she sweated a lot when he finally said, “I don’t want any lectures about how I fucked up.”
Clapping with delight, Suzanne sat up straight, an impish smile on her slightly rounded face. “Ooh, my perfect big brother messed up. What stupid thing did you do that I get to hold over your head?”
He jerked his thumb at Aurora. “I saved her life.”
“And he still hasn’t explained why that’s a bad thing,” Aurora muttered.
Hawkyn sighed. “One of my Primori was going to kill her, and I saved her.”
Suzanne’s eyes flared with surprise while Lilliana patted the cushion next to her. “Come have a seat, Aurora. We’ll get you a cup of tea and something to eat, and then we’ll explain everything.”
“Thank you, Lilliana.” Hawkyn glanced over at Suzanne. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. Will you make sure Aurora is settled into a guest room?”
“Did you clear it with Cat?”
He gave her a sheepish grin. “I was hoping you’d do that too.”
“Don’t try Cipher’s charm tricks on me,” Suzanne said with a wag of her finger. “They don’t work.”
“So that’s a yes?” At Suzanne’s annoyed huff, Hawkyn’s grin turned victorious. “Thanks, sis.” He turned to Aurora. “You can ask these two anything you want. They’ll be straight with you, and you can trust them. I’ll see you soon.”
He took off before she could figure out how she felt about being left in a strange Hell dimension with two strangers, but ultimately, it was better than being back in Drayger’s cargo container.
She hoped.
* * * *
Hawkyn sent a summons to both the Memitim Council and the embassy, figuring either could help him out. Whoever they sent as representatives would be pissed to know he’d sent a double summons, but at this point, he didn’t give a shit. He needed answers.
He paced like a lion in a cage as he waited, his patience in tatters as the clock ticked off the hour mark. Finally, just as he was about to send another set of summons, an Ascended brother he didn’t know materialized at the Summoning Stone, his dark skin and hair glowing even after the light beam that accompanied his arrival faded.
“I am Demetrius, Ninth Chief of Embassy Operations, son of Azagoth and Luscindia. What is your request, Hawkyn, son of Azagoth and Ulnara?”
First, he wanted Demetrius to lay off the formality. Hawkyn would take Jacob’s “What do you want, asshole?” over an overstuffed, pompous douchebag with too much starch in his holy robes.
But he probably shouldn’t say that.
“Hey, bro,” he drawled, countering his half-brother’s formality. “I need to speak to Atticus, keeper of bizarrely detailed notes, son of Azagoth and...some angel.”
“You know the rules. Earthbound Memitim aren’t supposed to be in contact with Ascended Memitim unless they’re employed by the Council or the embassy. Which he is not.”
“Yes, I know,” Hawkyn ground out. “But this is a special circumstance.”
“Aren’t they all?”
Hawkyn gnashed his teeth in frustration. “It’s a stupid rule, and it needs to be changed. Who do I see about that?”
“You can bring it up with a Council member.”
“You mean the Council members who never respond to our summons? How can I bring it up to them if I can’t talk to them?”
Demetrius’s eyes, so brown they were almost black, took in the surroundings with interest, even though his monotone voice couldn’t sound any more bored. “Then contact the embassy.”
“I just did. You told me to contact the Council.”
“That’s because they make the rules,” Demetrius explained slowly, as if he were speaking to Idess’s toddler, even though he was the one with the idiotic circular argument that made no sense. Hawkyn wanted to scream.
“How about you deliver my message?”
“Not my job.”
Hawkyn hated this guy. “Look, I just need a minute with Atticus. We’re told to protect our Primori and their fates at all costs, right? Well, to protect mine, I need to know more about him, and maybe Atticus can fill in some blanks.”
“Hawkyn, this is your second inquiry about the same Primori in just days.” Demetrius crossed his arms over his chest. “Why? Are you in trouble?”
Hawkyn barked out a bitter laugh. “Do you honestly think I’d tell you? The system doesn’t exactly encourage coming forward, not when we’re punished for doing so.”
“That’s the way it’s always been.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s the best way.” And it was exactly why he wanted to join the Council after he Ascended. Shit needed to be changed. The Old Guard needed to be replaced.
In many ways, the earthly realm progressed faster than the demon and Heavenly ones, simply because the short human lifespan meant that there were frequent turnovers of ideas and practices. When a species was immortal, ancient customs persisted in the minds and hearts of ancient beings—ancient beings who were always the ones running the shows. They resisted new things in favor of the old ways, even if the old ways no longer worked in modern ages.
Yes, the Council was in dire need of fresh blood.
Demetrius huffed and rolled his eyes. “If you have nothing other than a request I’m not going to grant, I’ll be going now.” He sneered at something over Hawkyn’s shoulder. “This place is claustrophobic.”
It absolutely was, but there was no way Hawkyn was going to admit that to Demetrius.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He moved to block his half-brother’s path to the Summoning Stone. “There’s one more thing. I want to know if Jason Drayger’s Fate Line has been altered.”
Demetrius’ dark brow punched down in an angry V. “Are you planning to cold-cock me like you did Jacob?”
“Depends on how much you piss me off.” Hawkyn’s hand clenched as if it had a mind of its own and remembered the feel of crunching into Jacob’s perfect nose. “Come on. Just...give me this. Remember when you were earthbound, worried about your Primori? Imagine how much more effective you could have been if you’d known whether or not your charges were on the right course. We should all have access to that information, don’t you think?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Demetrius said, his tone softer than it had been before. Even his expression had lost its etched-in-stone seriousness as his gaze turned inward. “This is the way things have always been done. But...” Demetrius looked around and, apparently satisfied that no one was within hearing distance, he turned back to Hawkyn. “No, your Primori’s Fate Line is intact. I checked on it before I came.”
Shock filtered its way through Hawkyn’s system. It was good news, but baffling. He’d truly thought that his interference in Aurora’s abduction had changed the future. Apparently not. So had Aurora been fated to be captured but escape even without Hawkyn’s help? Or would she simply have escaped without seriously injuring Drayger in the parking lot if he hadn’t been there?
And what did they do now?