The demon offered its hand, evidently knowing that much of our customs, but when it registered my repulsed fascination, it drew back. The face did not change. “You are familiar with our lore, then? I would take nothing uninvited.”

“Where’s Shannon?” I demanded.

On second glance, I saw that the broad pads of its fingertips were curved, almost like little suckers. They appeared perfectly suited for draining…something. Best I’d opted not to touch it.

“I am Greydusk, here as guide only. To survive the descent, you must do precisely as I instruct.”

The…descent? That did not sound healthy. I glanced at Chance, who stepped forward, both fists clenched. “Where’s our friend? I won’t ask again.”

“Sheol,” Greydusk answered. At my blank look, it added, “The other side of the gate, where you must also go, if you would ever see her again.”

The Descent

“You want me to cross over?” Fear clamored in my head.

As if in response, Butch whined. I knew the feeling. I should’ve left him with Tia, but there was no chance he’d behave himself. For good or ill, he was my dog. If he couldn’t talk me out of an adventure, then he always accompanied me. So I settled him in my purse and crossed the strap over my body.

“What I want is irrelevant,” the creature said. “But if you mean to save the girl, you must follow me.”

I remembered how Jesse said Shannon was so far gone as to be beyond his range entirely. Or dead. If they’d taken her to Sheol, that explained why he couldn’t sense her. That seemed to bear out their claim, but I needed proof it wasn’t a wild-goose chase.

“How do I know you have her…or that she’s still alive?”

The demon offered me a small circular object. “This token will function but once. Are you certain you wish to use it now?”

On closer inspection, I saw it was a mirror. “Yes, show me Shannon.”

He whispered a word in an unfamiliar language I guessed was demontongue and a magickal glow kindled within the glass. It was dark and shadowed; I couldn’t see where she was being held, but that was definitely Shannon. Her breath sounded quick, distressed with fear, and she was curled up, arms about her knees.

“You bastard.”

“I am not responsible for my employer’s actions, Ms. Solomon. Will you come or not?”

“Let’s go,” I said.

Greydusk turned and climbed a few steps, its movements too limber and loose, but when Chance followed me, the demon stopped. “My contract provides only for the Binder.”

That was a name Kel had given me, and then the Knight of Hell I’d defeated in Peru had echoed it. Supposedly, I came from King Solomon’s lineage, which gave me power over demons. I didn’t scoff at that notion as much as I once did. Too much had happened to make me believe.

“It’s not negotiable,” Chance said before I could reply. “You take both of us.”

In the glow from my witchlight, his features were fixed, determined. It would come to violence if I tried to hand him my keys and send him away. And with his luck, there was no telling what might happen. If the demon was more ferocious than it looked, and Chance’s life was in danger, we might trigger an earthquake.

Greydusk considered, weighing factors to which I wasn’t privy. At last, it replied, “The godling may come. I agree to the new terms.”

Godling? Wide-eyed, I stared at Chance. He lifted a shoulder in a shrug that claimed he didn’t know either. But it opened the book on all kinds of questions, the one foremost in my mind: Who the hell was your father? Stunned, I hurried to keep up with the demon already moving up the mountainside.

It was a long, steep climb, with less oxygen as we went up. Eventually Greydusk reached a plateau that ended in a sheer rock wall. Above, the trees grew spindly, thinning with the altitude. Below, everything was lush and green, with a blue thread of a brook running through it—or I imagined it would be, if I could’ve glimpsed the view during the day. At this time of night, it was all darkness, with stars glimmering just enough light to render the mountain spooky, and the glow from my athame only added to the eerie atmosphere.

“This way.” As the demon pressed forward, I saw the gaping maw between two giant stones.

This cave mouth yawned so that my witchlight couldn’t penetrate the shadows within; it had to be two hundred feet wide by one hundred feet high, and I couldn’t tell how deep it was. I’d read that Mexico had some of the deepest caverns in North America, and that many of the systems hadn’t been fully explored yet. For obvious reasons, this chilled my blood.

I asked, “How far is it?”

“Let’s see…how to parse it so you’ll understand.” This made me think demons used something other than the metric system. “Ten kilometers horizontally, and one kilometer down. There we shall find the entrance to Sheol.”

Chance appeared to weigh the information. “And what dangers will we face?”

“Darkness. Terror. The odd hungry beast.” If demons had a sense of humor, and from Maury I rather thought they did, this one was joking with us. Ha ha. “The closer we get, the more likely it is that something may…pass through.”

“Are there other portals?” I asked.

“Certainly. Weak places between the planes offer the potential for two-way passage. They also constructed magickal gates at various locales that offer one-way transit. And no, I will not tell you where.”

I didn’t expect it to. “Let’s get moving, then.”

The mouth of the cave swallowed us, but my light pushed the darkness back. The demon didn’t ask me to put it out, which was just as well. There was no way I trusted the creature enough to proceed otherwise. Greydusk led, I followed close behind, and Chance walked at my back. I was relieved to have him there because without him, my nerve might not have been sufficient to go on, even for Shannon. Butch squirmed in my bag, no happier than I was, but he didn’t protest. I suspected he understood the importance of the mission.

In the entrance chamber I shined my light around, finding shamanistic paintings on the walls, shards of broken pottery, and chunks of bone. The floor felt precarious beneath me because it wasn’t one smooth surface; instead it was formed of large rocks wedged together, leaving dangerous gaps where I could see myself getting my foot stuck or breaking an ankle, all too easily. No bad luck, I told myself. Not this time. The passage sloped downward, as I picked a careful path behind Greydusk.

We walked for half an hour; I amused myself looking at the ceremonial markings that adorned the walls. The longer we hiked, the colder it got. I couldn’t think about what was waiting for me on the other side. I’d focus on this. Right now. By tacit agreement, we didn’t talk. There was nothing Chance and I cared to discuss in front of our guide, and it kept its dark, creepy eyes on the lookout for potential danger ahead.

It’s for Shannon, I told myself.

Memories flashed in rapid succession: of meeting her in Kilmer, her riding the bike out to the spooky house we’d rented, and then later begging me not to leave her behind. I’d never done so. Not once, even against my best judgment. I had done unspeakable things to keep both of us safe. To no avail, it seemed.

Ten kilometers deep, one kilometer down. It was hard to imagine what we’d find, maybe wonders out of H. G. Wells. Logically I knew that was impossible, but what did that word mean when your boyfriend was a genuine lucky charm and you were pressing into the dark with a demon that had eyes on the side of its head?

Exactly. We had been hiking for a while when Chance touched me to get my attention. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly. “We can still turn back.”

For a second, I was tempted. One didn’t travel to Sheol casually. It wasn’t a trip to the mall, and there would be consequences. But I couldn’t give up on Shannon Cheney. I couldn’t. I hadn’t saved her in Kilmer only to lose her now. If I had to die to get her out of Sheol, I would. It was that simple, and by the way Chance’s lips compressed in pain, he knew. He’d always been good at reading me. To my relief, he didn’t argue; he just set his shoulders and went on. He trusted me enough to let me do as I thought best—and it meant everything.

In the stories, the heroine was always told not to look back or there would be dire repercussions. So no matter what I heard creeping along in the shadows behind us, I didn’t. After a while, though, it became difficult to ignore the flap of leathery wings. Bats lived in caves. Intellectually I knew there were worse things that I ought to worry about, but bats freaked me out. Sometimes it was easier to fixate on small things than to deal with the enormous ones.

The dark passage widened into a large cavern with a high ceiling. From the artifacts lying around, it looked like this might have been used for religious purposes at some point. More telling, this appeared to be the end of the path.

“Our first drop,” Greydusk said. “Only seven meters.”

That sounded like a lot. I took a breath while it made the preparations. Fortunately, it had a rope; it glimmered golden in the witchlight. The demon went first, sliding deftly down.

“It’s a bit damp, but safe enough. Come along!”

Chance touched my cheek. “Now you, love. I’m not leaving you alone here.”

“Don’t move,” I ordered the dog.

“Why don’t you let me take him?”

Since he was more athletic and coordinated, that was a good idea. I unlooped my bag and handed it over, which left him with both the backpack and my purse. If I hadn’t been so scared, I’d have laughed over using Chance as a pack mule. He was far too elegant for that.

I mustered my courage and sank to my knees, then tucked my glowing athame into the back of my pants. That’s fantastic luck, I’m sure. I had no idea if my upper-body strength could handle this. It took all my willpower to edge back off the rock and start inching down. I wanted to wrap the cord around my waist, but Greydusk held the other end.

We should have belts and straps and pulleys and things, shouldn’t we? Shit. Don’t think about falling.

I was halfway down when the bats appeared. At least they seemed to be, only they were more aggressive than any I’d heard about on National Geographic. They dived at my head, my hair, biting and scratching. My hands slipped on the rope, and I cried out as I slid down. Rock crumbled away against my feet.

Above me, I heard Chance cursing. “I’m not sure the rope will hold us both. Keep moving. You can do it.”

They’re small. They can’t actually hurt you. Only a fall can do that. My hands were shaking by the time I got to solid ground again. As the demon had mentioned, a thin stream of water trickled down the rock, leaving the stone where we stood slick and dangerous. It was so dark that I couldn’t see without the witchlight. I held it up for Chance, not daring to say a word until he hit the ledge beside me.

Thank you.

I threw myself into his arms. He rubbed my back and brushed a kiss against my hair. “I’m fine. You know I always land on my feet.”