Another howl fills the canyon. But not his. The bellow is…Gio’s.
I blink, realizing it’s killing my eyes to do so. But they’re still my eyes, solid in my head and not rolling in the mud. My entire face is still here. My whole head is.
The same head that I lift, wondering why Underworld Fido has suddenly decided I’m not a great chew toy. My view reveals Gio’s arms lassoed around one furry neck. The offensive only earns my guide a roller coaster ride through the air as Cerberus tries to buck the old man off.
“Shit,” I mutter.
I push to stand and find my balance. I have one goal now: to catch one of the beast’s extremities despite its crazy thrashing.
But before I can pinpoint the perfect moment to launch, a deafening crack cuts through the air. Then another.
“Cerberus!”
A deep feminine voice echoes off the high rock walls. At once, we all freeze in place.
The new silence makes room for the sound of footsteps. A second later, a pair of shiny, stiletto-heeled boots steps into my vision. Because I literally can’t gawk at much else, I follow the legs to which they’re attached, the thick whip trailing from her elegant hand, and then all the way up a strikingly slender form…
Until I’m peering at a completely black-bandaged face.
“Put him down at once,” the demoness barks, shockingly bold with the beast that’s at least five times her size.
Cerberus doesn’t move, but Gio takes advantage of the pause to release his hold and crash clumsily to the ground. He lands close to the mysterious figure—too close, judging by how he rushes to push back from her. The action stirs up more dust around both of them.
“What’s going on?” he demands. “Who are you?”
After a silent moment, the regal female peels the dark silks away from features that should be on a Times Square cosmetics billboard.
Gio’s jaw falls. After all we’ve been through, this is the palest I’ve seen him.
“No,” he whispers. “It can’t be.”
She visibly startles at the sight of him—but only for a second. Perhaps two. Just as rapidly, she relaxes her stiff shoulders and averts her eyes. “Oh, Gio. You were always so adept at fictionalizing life and wrapping your mind around the impossible. Don’t tell me you’ve changed so much to think you wouldn’t find me here of all places.”
All he can do is release a painful sigh and shake his head. He’s in shock by what he sees, but I can’t figure out why. I also can’t figure how this slight woman has brought the massive Cerberus to heel with such little effort.
“In any case, you’re welcome,” she states without a hint of sarcasm. And then extends a hand, hauling Gio up as if there’s a truck driver hiding behind her facade. “Come now. If I leave you here, the hound will not take long to chew through both of you. We must go.”
“Wait.” I scour my gaze across her face again. There’s a weird but frightening allure about her. Haunting but familiar. “Go where? And who the hell are you? Why should we trust you or follow you anywhere?”
“Charlena.” Gio sounds like he’s got a whole screenplay to spill behind those syllables.
“Charlena?” I repeat, already acknowledging a whole string of my own questions for the strange woman.
But I should have saved the strange notation for this moment instead: the pause in which I forget about Cerberus and hell circles to watch the female pivot like the fashion ramp model she so vividly reminds me of. There’s an equally urbane half smile on her dark-red lips, but that doesn’t arrest me as much as what I glimpse, for the barest of seconds, in her gaze. What kind of light is that? Once more, I’m struck with a powerful sense of affinity. No, something deeper. Déjà vu? Another repressed memory?
“Should I be flattered that you remembered my face and my name after all we’ve been through?” she says to Gio.
“I remember everything. Every single blessed second,” he returns, gaping as if every inch of his body craves to hold her.
But it seems like a stronger instinct is holding him back. Something resembling…fear, for which I can’t blame him under the current circumstances.
“Fifty-one years,” he whispers softly. “And not a day has gone by without you somewhere in my thoughts, dahlia.”
A softness washes across her countenance with Gio’s confession and what I suspect is an endearment he often uttered in her presence. Yet the vulnerability vanishes as quickly as it arrived.
“Your days, hours, minutes, and seconds mean nothing here. Nothing.” She struts past him coldly, like the fashion show turned edgy and the designer gave her one line of walking notes: look pissed off and determined about it.
“Wait. Will you stop and just look at me? Charlena—”
“Stopping for anything doesn’t serve us well right now. If you will just follow—”
“I would follow you anywhere,” Gio cuts in, his gaze still on her like a riveted dance partner. “Even in here.”
“Yes.” She blinks slowly. “I know.”
“But you must also know that’s not what brought me here, don’t you? Have you seen her? Our granddaughter?”
And so much for that whole dance.
My thoughts are whirring at five times their normal speed, practically afire from the implosion of comprehension they’ve just withstood.
Charlena, and all her mysterious effects on me, now make perfect sense. Same for why she’s making Gio rush over his words like a lovesick middle schooler.
She’s the ex who gave him the trigger about mirrors. The demoness lover he’ll never be over.
She’s also the underworld side of Kara’s DNA.
No wonder the old man looks like he doesn’t know what to feel right now. I don’t begrudge him. But I also know I can’t help him with any of it—especially because there’s a higher objective at stake right now. A bigger game to prioritize.
“Kara,” I blurt. “Have you seen her? Is she…all right?”
I can’t help my hesitation before the last part of it. The words that are practically rhetorical. I already know she’s not all right. I’ve seen her myself, in a way. I’ve felt her hopelessness and heartache. And now, more than that. After Hades broke in on us…all the horror and violation in her eyes and shaking through her body…
“I mean, is she safe?”
It’s a relief when Charlena tics a brief nod, already offering a small balm of commiseration. “Reasonably,” she finally shares. “Depends how you look at it, I suppose.”
“Reasonably?” I hope my echo will turn it into something more hopeful but wind up with the exact opposite. Every syllable is a dig of doubt. “What does that mean? You did see her, right? Did you talk to her?”
“Of course I have seen her.” She declares that like a starlet announcing a juicy film deal, with a notable glance at Gio as punctuation. “I am now one of his lordship’s highest-ranking captains in Dis. It allows me to request certain privileges inside the castle and elsewhere.”
While that earns her another look from Gio that’s equal parts desire and disgust, I clench my hands to keep from grabbing and shaking the haughty creature. You need her, damn it. You need her in a good mood.