Harley Merlin 12 Read online

  “Whoa, easy there!” I put up my hands in surrender. Clearly, this wasn’t entirely about my lies.

  “Yes, I suggest you rein in your ire, madam.” Mary released the bubble, the forcefield falling back into place as the doorway disappeared. She put herself between me and Santana.

  Santana’s jaw dropped. “Are you a—”

  “A spirit, a specter, an echo of the living. Yes, I am,” Mary replied, her tone hard. “And you are not permitted to enter this sanctuary and speak to a dear friend of mine in so brash a manner. I do not care what you think he may have done, and I care little that he is a friend of yours, if you continue to insult him. You will be courteous, or I shall see you tossed from this house like a rag doll.”

  Raffe stifled a snort. “Do you have a name?”

  “Miss Foster. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, as you seem to have less difficulty with courtesy.” Mary sketched a dainty curtsey before returning her glare to Santana, who’d turned a troubling shade of red.

  “Well, I’m Raffe, and please don’t mind Santana. She’s had a long day.” Raffe took Santana’s hand and held it tight, soothing the beast.

  “And I have had a lengthy afterlife, but I do not throw my weight about,” Mary shot back.

  I stepped in before things got ugly. “What’s the crazy you mentioned before, Santana?”

  “Don’t go turning this on me.” She shot a dirty look at Mary. “We can talk about all of that later. I want to hear what you’ve got to say for yourself first.”

  “Look, I know you don’t agree with me bringing Raffe into this. If there’d been another way, I would’ve. In fact, I was ready to tell Nash that I needed his blood to escape Erebus’s servitude. But Melody persuaded me that it’d be a bad idea. Nash has some kind of history with Erebus, and any mention of that name would make him shut down. So, she went with the Raffe charade, and I went along with it.”

  “And here I was, thinking you were the most exquisite wretch of them all.” Kadar flickered to the surface, making Mary shoot back as if stung. “Are you telling me that Melody is the brains behind this outfit? Melody—the tiny mouse of a human, who’d barely make a mouthful for me?”

  I met his eye. “That brain of hers would probably choke you.”

  “I thought you and I had a glorious friendship, built on corruption and deception, ahead of us. Now, I am disappointed.” Kadar tutted, while Mary stared. He turned toward her. “You ought to count yourself lucky, Miss Foster, that you are a specter. I am ravenous, and I imagine you would’ve been quite the tasty morsel in your day.”

  Santana cut in. “You wouldn’t so much as nibble on her, Kadar. You know that, so quiet down with the threats before I shove Lullaby Weeds down Raffe’s throat.” She turned back to me. “Look, I’m peeved you used Raffe. Why not Levi and Zalaam? Raffe isn’t your pawn, Finch.”

  “Neither are Levi and Zalaam, but it doesn’t sound like you’d mind throwing them under the bus. At least I’m letting Raffe know now, before we proceed. Anyway, a djinn needs to remove the curse, and Kadar is a djinn, so I guess you could say that Melody’s lie created a djinn-djinn situation.” I tried to laugh, but Santana’s withering look killed it.

  “Without even asking him first?” Santana replied. “And why do you think this Nash guy would run if you told him the truth? If he has issues with Erebus, then wouldn’t that put you on equal footing? He’d more likely sympathize with you than sprint in the opposite direction.”

  “But I need his blood for Erebus, and I doubt Nash would like helping him,” I said softly.

  Raffe raised a hand. “For what it’s worth, I don’t mind.”

  “Neither do I,” Kadar chimed in. “I may be weakened, but my djinn muscles could use a bit of flexing. And I do so enjoy unraveling the masterpieces of other djinn. There’s something satisfying about destroying their handiwork.”

  Santana looked upward in exasperation. “That’s not the point!”

  “Then what, pray tell, is the point?” Mary recovered enough to muster some pointed inquisitiveness.

  “You just went ahead without sending so much as a text to Raffe,” Santana replied. “Is it really that hard to say, ‘Hey, by the way, we need to lie to get some blood off a dude. Is it okay if I say it’s about you?’ and then he could choose to agree or disagree? You took that choice away, and now you’re backpedaling like mad to keep this going.”

  “I was in CANADA! The ass-end of it! I had no signal!” I blurted. “Raffe knows that, because he said he tried to call me and couldn’t get thr—”

  A blinding white flash enveloped me before I finished, overwhelming everything with raw energy. I collapsed and heard the distant cries of Santana and Raffe. But I wasn’t in the bathroom anymore…

  My grip on reality slipped, and I faded into glowing oblivion, not knowing where I was headed, or what had pulled me in.

  I blinked awake to bright light glaring into my eyes. I lay on an altar in a pillared temple of pristine white marble, with winged statues and lemon trees standing guard. Well, this isn’t at all ominous… Was I trussed up for sacrifice? I wiggled my arms, but I didn’t seem to be tied down. Confused, I sat up and took in my surroundings.

  The temple rested on an expanse of diamond grass, glinting with beauty and menace. One bare foot on those blades, and my tootsies would be shredded to ribbons. Azure sky stretched overhead, but no sun. The light came from inside the temple and all around, glinting off every diamond blade of grass, and it was painful to endure. I’d landed in an otherworld.

  “Welcome.” An apparition shimmered, her limbs solidifying into a slender female form. Of course, who else’s otherworld would I have landed in? Erebus didn’t have this kind of wattage. So, naturally, it had to be the one and only Lux.

  “You mind telling me how you summoned me?” I dangled my legs off the edge of the altar. “Last I checked, your hubby is the only one who can do that to me. Even then, I’m the one who has to do the actual traveling, with this thing.” I took the portal ring from my pocket, where it always stayed until I had to use it, and waggled it at her.

  Lux laughed coolly. “He always has hated expending energy at any cost to himself. I hail more from the ‘if you want a job done well, do it yourself’ field of thought.”

  “Still not giving me the details here, Lux.” I’d had enough of Children thinking they could do what they liked with me. What if I really had been going to the bathroom? That would’ve been awkward.

  “You were touched by me, at that human place of revels,” she explained. “As such, I can summon you at will, much like my husband does. Only, I prefer to create a telepathic link, instead of pulling you physically from the mortal realm and into mine. It saves a great deal of time and effort.”

  “Come again?” I gaped at her. “I’m not really here?”

  She shrugged. “Yes and no. Your mind is here, but your physical body is where I left it, likely drooling and speechless. I would say that is not much of a change for you, but I am above such childish repartee.”

  “That’s like saying, ‘I’m not being offensive, but…’ and then going on to say something really offensive,” I retorted.

  “I have not summoned you to indulge in a game of wits, Finch.” Lux paced the temple floor, her body shimmering with shards of light. “I have questions.”

  I grimaced. “Why am I not surprised? It was you who helped with Davin, wasn’t it? I friggin’ knew there would be a price for that.”

  “I like to ensure that my personal interests are protected,” she replied simply. “And I was not the one who came to your rescue. I sent my Sylphs.”

  “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I thought intervening like that was a major no-no.”

  “My creations, as with all Children’s creations, provide a get-out clause of sorts. They are our eyes and ears, and, yes, our force in the mortal realm when we can’t move directly.” Lux shot me a hard stare. “I would have thought you’d be more grateful.”

  I echoed
her hard stare. “I would’ve, if it had been an act of altruism. But you Children don’t go for that, do you? There’s always a deal here, an exchange there—it’s never something for nothing.”

  Her glowing eyes flashed with irritation. “Don’t tar me with the same brush as my husband, Finch. I help my fair share of mortals, without request for anything in return. I do not make a song and dance about it, which is why you likely never hear of my charitable endeavors. My Sylphs aid many people in times of need. But I do not take the credit, nor do I want to.”

  “Say that’s true—why is it different with me?” I found her incredibly tricky to read, but the note of genuine affront convinced me she was telling the truth.

  Lux sighed. “Because, unfortunately, you have something I need. Information.”

  “About what?”

  “I want to know why you went to Canada for this Nash Calvert individual,” she replied, returning to business.

  “Don’t you already know, if you had eyes and ears on me?” I countered.

  “My Sylphs could not hear everything, and there is something about this Nash person that blocks their ability to listen,” Lux explained. “In this instance, you know more than they could discover, which makes you invaluable to me. There will be rewards for that, if you comply.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What kind of rewards?”

  “I have yet to decide; it depends on the quality of your information.” Lux wandered to one of the pillars and stared into the vast fields of diamond grass. “Now, why were you there? Who is this Nash fellow?”

  I was in her world now, and I got the sense I wouldn’t be leaving until I spilled my guts all over her temple. Not in the literal sense, hopefully. Plus, I owed her for the rescue, even if I hadn’t asked for it. And if she intended to reward me, that put her one step above Erebus in my eyes, who’d never offered so much as a pat on the back for my efforts. Maybe she could break me out of my deal with her lover. The notion was enough to loosen my lips a touch.

  “Nash is a Sanguine, with blood from two lines of Atlantean Primus Anglicus. You know, the good stuff,” I said reluctantly. She’d protected me once—I hoped that would extend to saving my skin from Erebus if he ever found out I’d yakked to his wife about his plans.

  Lux whirled around. “A Sanguine of Atlantean descent?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Otherwise known as the key to the Gateway to Atlantis!” Her whole body glowed two notches brighter, forcing me to cover my eyes. “That stupid, stupid fool.”

  “How so?” I pressed, but she didn’t answer. She’d returned to pacing, clearly deep in thought about the crafty doo-doo her husband was wading through. “Fine, I’ll just talk to myself.”

  Still, Lux said nothing. She simply walked, then stopped, then walked some more, and stopped some more, in super-awkward silence.

  Well, this is fun… Squirming in the quiet, I changed tactics.

  “Since we’re sharing secrets, why don’t you tell me what this is about? Why is Erebus so set on Atlantis? And why don’t you just talk to him about it, instead of using me as your go-between?”

  Lux’s body sparked violently, making me wish I’d kept my trap shut. “The only way to deal with Erebus is through lies, deception, and manipulation,” she spat. “That is how he deals with me, so I pay him back in kind. These measures are the only thing that will get through that dense skull of his, once I confront him!”

  I’d poked the bear way harder than I’d intended. Lux was a cold fish most of the time, hovering somewhere between serene and frosty, and I’d never seen her lose it like this. It genuinely seemed something had snapped inside her. One too many betrayals, maybe? Or one too many lies from the being bound to her for eternity? A marriage made in hell.

  “Sorry for asking,” I mumbled, shell-shocked.

  “I am sure you hoped I would have answers for you, but I cannot say more at this time.” She recovered quickly, her glowing form settling down. “Nevertheless, you must be careful. If you do not serve me well, and show me due courtesy, you will end up dead, like all the other servants of Erebus.”

  “What did you just say?” My heart dropped like a stone.

  “I believe you heard me.” Her eyes bored into my soul. “I will call on you again when I require you. After what you have told me, I will be keeping a close eye on matters.”

  “All of his servants died?” I ignored the last thing she’d said. That didn’t matter to me right now, after the bombshell she’d dropped. Erebus had evidently gotten right under her skin and made her as toxic as him. She was the one who supposedly cared about mortals, along with Gaia, and she may as well have taken a brick to the back of my head with that revelation.

  Lux turned away. “Ask your friends, Raffe and Santana. They can confirm. I, on the other hand, tire of talking.”

  I woke up in the grisly bathroom. Santana and Raffe stood over me, staring at me. And my cheek stung, as if someone had given me a sharp slap to try and wake me up. Judging by Mary’s furious face, Santana had been the one to do the slapping.

  “Finch?” Raffe knelt. “Are you okay? You zoned out for a minute there.”

  “A minute?” I looked at him, puzzled.

  He nodded. “Yeah, maybe two.”

  I realized time must’ve moved differently during my telepathic “call” with Lux. “Sorry about that. I always tell myself not to drink on an empty stomach, especially when there’s a lot on my mind. It must’ve gotten the better of me.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is? You were really out of it, Finch,” Santana interjected, her expression showing a hint of worry.

  “Honestly, I’m fine.” I mustered a smile. “Actually, it did me some good, because there’s something I want to ask you both.”

  Finally, in this crazy, roundabout way, I would get some answers.

  Thirty-Eight

  Raffe

  Finch was anything but fine. He’d been talking one second, then blanked out the next, the cabinet beside him breaking his fall. As if someone had flipped a literal switch in his head. His eyes went vacant, his head lolled, and then he’d come back suddenly, as if nothing had happened. I wasn’t buying it. Finch had his own brand of weird, but this was different. As if it took him by surprise, too. Then again, with the pressure he was under, and Santana not exactly making things easier, who wouldn’t break?

  “What did you want to ask?” I said, figuring it was better to focus on that. Finch clearly didn’t want to talk about what had happened.

  “What did you find out about the servants of Erebus?” Finch cast me a thankful look, but an odd note lingered in his voice. An artificial casualness.

  Santana sighed and leaned against the wall. “Raffe, you should probably take this one.”

  “That bad, huh?” Again, Finch’s tone seemed… off. He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “We learned a lot, and a lot happened.” I took over, knowing I could finally get some weight off my chest. “But, before we get to the servant stuff, there’s so much you need to hear. The Storyteller was a huge help, but she is no longer with us. She amassed the djinn to take on Erebus in Tartarus, but when we all arrived, he wasn’t there. The Storyteller knew a way to separate the djinn without going through Erebus directly, and gave her life to free them. They’ll be weaker now, but they’ve all agreed that’s a small price to pay, considering the alternative.”

  Finch’s mouth gaped wide open. “Are you telling me the djinn are free? Like, legitimately free?”

  “I am,” I replied.

  “They freed themselves?” His eyes bulged.

  “They did. I’m not sure how many ways I can say it.” I offered a smile. This had to be a bit of a shock for him.

  Finch shook his head, halfway between disbelief and admiration. “Son of a nutcracker! Those sneaky devils! Man, why couldn’t I have been a djinn? I’d be strutting free right now, if I was. Never in my life have I been more jealous of billowing smoke, flashy red skin, and anger-
management issues.”

  I lowered my gaze, only to raise it again. “But there’s more. Tartarus isn’t the way it was before. When we arrived, it was… empty. That’s literally the only way I can describe it. No darkness, no Purge beasts, nothing.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “The Storyteller explained that, because Erebus took human form, Tartarus doesn’t recognize him as its creator anymore. But it does recognize the djinn and their energy. So…” I paused, hoping this might give Finch a boost. “The djinn seized it for themselves. They’re going to build a world there, and since they make the rules, they can deny Erebus entry, if he tries to get back in. At least while he’s in his human body.”

  Finch’s mouth hung open. “Are you friggin’ serious?”

  “Yeah, because we’d joke about something like that,” Santana interjected.

  “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me the djinn are free, and Erebus is… locked out of his own otherworld?” A hint of a smirk formed on Finch’s lips.

  “We are,” I replied. The news seemed to be having the desired effect.

  He started laughing like a maniac. “Oh damn, that’s too good! Erebus finally lost something he cares about, all because of this stupid pet project! Raffster, you’ve made my friggin’ day!” He clutched his stomach, wheezing. “There must be some insane treasures in that drowned city. If there aren’t, it’ll be like opening coal on Christmas. Just to clarify, the Storyteller made this happen, right?”

  I nodded. “She performed a sacrificial spell, yes.”

  “Then Erebus can’t even do anything about it, right? If it’s djinn magic, he can’t undo it!” Finch howled louder. “This is perfect, Raffe. Absolutely fudging perfect! I wish the Storyteller were still around, so I could shake her hand and give her a kiss for this—I’m sorry she had to die, of course, but what a way to go out! Literally liberating all of her kind. The djinn have serious guts. Ain’t that the truth, Kadar, my man?”