“Aggie…” Layla levels Aggie with a look that actually shuts the old woman up. I make a mental note to learn it.
“I’m going in,” Karston says before lowering himself through the grate. Preston follows, then Layla. I suppress a gag as I take Aggie’s sticky hand and help her down, trying not to think about what disgusting substance is covering it. I jump in after her, then Auston lands behind me.
“Whoa,” Aggie says in awe, looking around at the vast maze of tunnels. I look to Layla, gauging her reaction, but she seems…stoic, as if the immensity of the tunnels was nothing more than a maze in a kid’s Highlights magazine.
“Karston, you’re more familiar with the tunnels than the rest of us. Where do you suggest we start?” Auston asks.
“This way.” Karston jumps down through the stone archway to the lower level and heads right. I’ve never been this way before. The stone walls rise as we wind through. I call on my fire and raise my hand above my head to give us some light.
The tunnel narrows, making us walk single file, then turns sharply. The ceiling lowers until Auston and I have to crouch to walk, otherwise our wings would scrape along it. We pass several archways that appear to lead down other dark corridors, but Karston continues down this path until it ends abruptly.
“Shit,” Karston shouts, his hands scrubbing his face in frustration. “Let me see if I can get through any walls in here.” Karston’s tangible form disappears before our eyes, something I’m not sure that I’ll ever get used to. I can hear the thumping of him bumping into the walls, making the outcome of his attempt obvious. “I got nothing,” he says, after materializing once more.
“Then we turn back,” Auston says, stating the obvious. He heads in the direction we came, and we all follow like lost puppies.
“What’s that over there?” Layla asks, and I stop to look back at her.
“What’s what?” I inquire.
“That.” She points to a small glimmer of metal on the floor. If she’d not seen it, I don’t think any of us would’ve.
“Let me see,” Preston says, elbowing his way up to the front. He calls upon his scythe which appears in his hand, then he mutters, “Luminesce,” and the blade glows a bright blue. I still can’t get over the fact that one—Preston wields a weapon as tall as he is with a three-foot blade on the end, and two—that he has magic.
Preston.
Has magic.
The Fates sure fucked this one up.
Layla looks up at me and gives me the evil eye, like I just insulted her mother. I ignore her odd behavior and watch Pres as he bends down to look at the metal. Using his hand, he clears away the dust on the floor.
“Look at this,” he says, pointing to one of the stones making up the ground. “There’s an inscription or a carving on it.”
I drop to a knee, lowering my flames so I can get a better look. “It looks like…a book?”
“It’s a scroll,” Layla corrects.
“I’ve got something,” Preston announces. “It’s not just a piece of metal—it's a latch.”
“A latch…like to open something?” Karston asks.
“Yep. Auston, give me a hand.” Preston scoots over, and Auston evaluates the rusted metal.
“Karston, give me your dagger,” Auston demands. Karston calls upon his weapon, no questions asked, flips the dagger in the air, and catches the blade in his hand like a damned weapons master. He offers the hilt to Auston, who snatches it a little too roughly, then goes to work on the latch. Chipping noises echo through the low tunnel as Auston works at the corroded metal. Finally, several long minutes later, he says, “I’ve got it.”
Auston hands Karston his blade back with much less finesse and opens the rusted latch, revealing a circle of metal below. Auston lifts the circle and twists. A click sounds, like a lock has been disengaged, then the floor beneath us begins to tremble.
“Watch out!” Preston calls, pushing Aggie—who was too busy checking out Auston’s ass—out of the way. The floor caves in on itself, revealing a dark abyss in the floor. I crawl closer and lower my fire to look inside.
“It’s a set of stairs,” I tell them. I can hear their astonished responses behind me, but I ignore them. Not wanting anyone to jump down ahead of me, I start to descend the stairs. Scents I haven't smelled here in the Afterlife assault me. They remind me of the incense my brothers and I would burn when we smoked pot in college.
A warmth makes its way up the stairs, heating my skin, and I start to climb down faster. The center of each step is worn, as if this has been traveled on often over a long period of time. I hold up my fire and look at the walls, finding nothing abnormal about them. However, every so often, another stone will have that same scroll carved into it that we saw up in the tunnels. They appear almost like a marker, letting me know I’m going the right way.
The staircase ends abruptly, and I turn left through an arched opening. I blink in awe, not quite sure I believe what I’m seeing. One thing is for sure though.
We’re not in Kansas anymore.
Chapter 8
Hadley
My footsteps echo as I race to the looming bridge. Accented in gold trim, Pontem Veritas is beautiful. It’s erected high above the churning river below. Usually, the sun will highlight the various colors, but today, the sky is a slate of gray with bloated storm clouds. Very little sunlight breaks through, which I find unusual. The sky is always blue here, with bright beams of sunlight that warm my skin.
Lungs aching, I run faster and faster until I lean against the gilded edge, breaths shuddering in and out.
Layla’s words reverberate through me, accompanied by a keen sense of betrayal. Why would she say those things? What does she mean?
But something about her words resonates deep within me. I can’t place my finger on it. Just as I grasp it, it slips through my fingers like raindrops.
Caius…
I love him fiercely. Every fiber in my being reminds me of that. His gentle manner whenever he’s with me, the love in his eyes, the curve to his luscious lips when I say something that amuses him.
So why am I so bothered by Layla’s words?
I press my forehead against the rail of the bridge, distantly aware of rushing water cresting the shoreline below. My heart is beating so fast I’m afraid it’s going to physically break.
“I knew I’d find you here,” a soft, familiar voice says from near my ear. A moment later, featherlight lips brush the back of my neck and teeth nibble on my earlobe. I can’t stop the involuntary shudder—a shudder that’s not a product of lust.
Fuck, what has Layla done to me?
If Caius is bothered by my reaction, he doesn’t show it. His muscular arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into his hard body. His erection presses against my ass. Before, I would’ve rubbed against him like a cat in heat or a besotted dog. With Layla’s words on a continuous loop in my head, all I do now is wince, fighting the revulsion sinking its heavy claws into me.
“Is everything okay?” Caius whispers, spinning me around. His eyes emit nothing but concern and love. It softens his sharp features, softens him.
There’s no denying that Caius is beautiful. Anyone with eyes can see that. But it’s a savage, feral type of beauty—the beauty of a wild animal you would find in the woods. A part of you is intrigued, wanting to take a closer look, but a reasonable voice in your mind warns you that the beast will bite. Make you its prey.