Caged in Bone (The Ascension Series) (21 page)

The doorway brightened as she approached. Elise pulled her jacket around herself, concealing as much of her skin as possible—her chest, her neck, the bottom of her chin.

“I smell them,” Rylie said. There was hope in her voice that hadn’t been there just hours earlier. “I finally smell Abel. It’s getting old, though. I think they went…through. Is that possible?”

“It’s possible,” Elise said grimly.

It was a gateway to a Heavenly dimension. There were several worlds belonging to angels, and it could go to any of them other than the garden; all of those doors had long since been destroyed. There was no way to tell if it would lead to Shamain or Zebul or a Haven. Not until they walked through.

Metaraon must have left a door to Eden somewhere in Heaven, and James was already taking Abel there.

The light between the pillars continued to grow. It was a warm, steady light that hinted at gray worlds filled with angels and glowing cities. The kind of place that was guaranteed to weaken Elise’s powers to the point of uselessness.

James hadn’t just brought her here to make his coven safe. He had brought her to level the playing field.

Elise drew the gun from the small of her back, checked the safety. She didn’t need demon powers to be able to shoot him.

“Do we have to go through that?” Rylie asked.

“You can stay if you want,” Elise said. “I’ll bring Abel back.”

Rylie set her jaw. “I’m seeing this through to the end.”

She held out her hand. Her sweater’s sleeve was so long that it covered her all the way to the knuckles, making her fingers look almost childlike. In comparison, Elise’s black-gloved hand was huge.

Elise gripped her tightly. “Whatever happens,” she said, “Abel walks away from this. James doesn’t.”

Rylie just nodded, lips tight and cheeks pale.

Together, they stepped through the doorway. Elise brushed her hand over the stone pillar as she passed and it sang warnings to her, telling her that she was going the wrong way. The light flared around them impossibly bright and brilliant.

The world vanished.

Elise’s hand disappeared
from Rylie’s grip.

Blinded by the light of the gate, Rylie floundered, reaching for Elise, trying to find the hand that she had lost. She couldn’t see or hear or smell anything. She was drowning in light. The world was so cold.

“Elise!” she yelled.

No response.

The light faded, and Rylie turned, expecting to find herself in Heaven. But she was still in the snowy clearing. She had stepped through to the other side of the gateway and was all of two feet closer to the trees on the other side. Nothing had changed.

Except that Elise was gone.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. Her heart sank to her knees. Somehow, Elise had managed to step through to another world, but Rylie had been left behind.

The scent of Abel grew as the wind kicked up, and Rylie realized that it wasn’t an old smell anymore. It was fresh and new. Sweat, aftershave, grilled chicken that had been cooked with lemon and thyme. The crisp scent of citrus was striking against the earthy smells of the forest.

Rylie whirled.

Abel emerged from the trees behind her, a hundred yards beyond the gateway.

Her heart melted at the sight of him, knees going weak, her bones liquefied. He wore a hat and jacket that she didn’t recognize. They must have been recent acquisitions. But as her eyes traveled over him, she realized that he wasn’t tied up or restrained at all, and he was even carrying guns.

Abel was alive, unharmed, and—why did he look so angry?

“Rylie,” he growled, seizing her by the shoulders. Lucky thing, too, because she had forgotten how to stand, and it was only his grip keeping her on her feet. “You’re
insane
. What is wrong with you? What are you doing here?”

Her mouth moved wordlessly.

She had
thought
she was saving Abel. But as she watched, James Faulkner emerged from the light within the gateway as calmly as though stepping between dimensions was normal. He extinguished the portal with a casual wave of his hand.

Abel wasn’t surprised to see the witch come out the door, either. He was only surprised to see Rylie there.

James hadn’t kidnapped Abel—he had left the pack willingly.

Elise awoke in
darkness. It was the kind of artificial twilight that came from heavy, layered curtains that blocked out every hint of moonlight.

She sat up. The back of her head still ached from the basandere’s chain, but the rest of her was, surprisingly, in good condition. Elise was in a generously large bed with sheets that felt like they had a higher thread count than there were people in North America. They were a pleasant shade of yellow. The comforter on top was stuffed with fluffy down.

Her gaze traveled from the foot of the bed to a large wardrobe on the opposite wall, which was paneled with dark wood. The wallpaper on the top half had an elaborate Asian design, sort of Indian. An unlit lantern hung from the ceiling. There was an attached bathroom peeking out from behind a paneled screen.

She had stepped through the gate expecting to be delivered unto Heaven to kick James’s ass.

Instead, she was in a bedroom. She was unharmed and alone.

Where was Rylie?

Elise pushed the sheets off of herself and stood. She had been stripped of her jacket, socks, and shoes. She still wore a sweater and jeans.

She slammed through the bedroom door to find herself in a roofed courtyard. The exercise equipment to the left didn’t match the rock garden and trickling spring that sliced through the center, either. There was a punching bag, an impressive set of free weights, a few blue foam mats like those used by gymnasts.

Over the sound of running water she could hear the faint roar of wind. The air seeping through the courtyard was cold.

This
definitely
wasn’t Heaven.

She tried to phase to the door on the other side of the courtyard, but nothing happened. She didn’t disappear and reappear. It was like the ability had vanished.

Elise stormed to the other door and threw it open.

It was a kitchen, all bamboo furnishings and shining refrigerator. She opened the cabinets. She had never had favorite foods, per se, but she used to have a short list of foods that she would eat—good fat and protein sources, nuts and cheeses, sometimes creatine powder shakes when she was actively weight training. All of those ingredients were in the pantry. There was also a gallon of whole milk in the refrigerator along with what looked like a side of beef and about twenty-four eggs.

All food that she used to eat. Food that she hadn’t eaten for three years.

Only one person would think to leave that shit for her.

Anger surging, Elise went to the next door off the courtyard—a small office with a desk, a few bookshelves, and an MP3 player that showed every one of Black Death’s albums at a cursory glance. The door led to a bathroom. Every window she found had been carefully covered by blackout curtains.

Faint magic sparked on the exterior walls. She ran her fingers over the paneling, urging the magic to rise where she could see it.

The walls burned her hands. She jerked away.

There was stone set into the walls—the same marble-like petrified bone that the angels had used to build their cities. Slender stone ribs the color of moonlight had been wedged between the wall paneling. When Elise stretched out her senses, she could feel that ethereal marble encompassing the entire building.

So much for punching through any of the walls.

And there wasn’t a single door that led outside.

Elise glanced through the curtains at the world beyond the bathroom window, but immediately pulled back when the moonlight touched her. That glimpse outside had been enough. Maybe too much.

She was on top of a desolate, wind-beaten mountain range, alone with the burning moon and a cloudy sky. She couldn’t escape. James would have Abel
and
Rylie. And if he was working with Belphegor, then Elise’s capture would do more than prevent her from saving the werewolf pack—it might let him take the whole damn world.

Elise tore through the bedroom, shoving over the wardrobe, shattering it on the floor in search of keys or runes or something to help her escape. Nothing.

She destroyed the kitchen, too, but there was nothing but that stupid food, the dishes, the appliances that served no function for her. She scattered them across the floor, kicked them to pieces.

The library—maybe he had something in the library.

She all but ripped the shelves off the wall, tossing the books aside. It was fiction. Looked like books taken from Pamela’s house.

How fucking
considerate
of him.

No hidden doors, no weaknesses in James’s magic. The walls were impenetrable.

She found herself in the bathroom. It had the biggest window of any room in the house, encompassing one entire wall, and wasn’t laced with ethereal bone. It was her only chance. If she could just shatter it—if she could break through, phase away into shadow…

Elise jerked the curtains down. She was so hungry that the moonlight on her skin was like being shoved into an oven, pressed against its white-hot heating elements, engulfed in gas and flame.

If anything would break, it would have to be this window.

Her body dripped with sweat as she ripped her gloves off, pulled her shirt over her head. She had covered most of her body in runes while she was in the motel closet, and as soon as she was exposed to the air, she began to tremble.

She focused all the power in her hands, drawing the runes up her legs and abdomen, shoving them down her arms until her hands shook like a plucked guitar string.

Elise aimed her palms at the window and spoke a word of power—one word to activate every spell.

It struck James’s magic. Collided, and extinguished.

The only thing that broke was inside of Elise.

Abram couldn’t help
but feel relieved at the sight of the Union moving into Northgate with their black SUVs, circling helicopter, and fully automatic guns. They were the military arm of the Office of Preternatural Affairs and had the training to show for it. They marched in line, listened to orders.

It was a far cry from the ragtag band that had been protecting the bridge for the last few weeks. If a kibbeth broke through, half of the Union unit probably wouldn’t get eaten in its tentacles.

“This is going to be bad,” Crystal muttered, pacing behind Abram. They had just announced to the inhabitants of Northgate that the Union would be providing support. Sounds of discontent spread through the crowd surrounding Bain Marshall. “Like,
bad
bad. These are the people that want us all tagged or dead—mostly dead.”

“The commander says that he wants to help us,” Abram said, tracking an SUV with his eyes as it turned a corner. There were over a dozen now, and more coming. Many more than Abram had first seen waiting outside Northgate. “I believe him.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Yasir’s all right, I guess. He probably does want to help us. It wouldn’t be the first time. But the whole Union isn’t Yasir.” She leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “And wasn’t Yasir supposed to be dead anyway?”

Startled, Abram turned to watch the commander. Yasir was deep in conversation with Levi, gesturing toward the Bain Marshall statue, then the ground and the surrounding buildings. He didn’t look dead.

“He mentioned being Seth’s best man,” Abram said. “He meant at the wedding to Rylie that didn’t happen, didn’t he?”

“Right, that was when he went missing. Last time we saw Yasir, he’d arrested Cain and taken him back to the Union. Then Yasir was gone and suddenly Cain was running around with the Union, and they all had apple tattoos.” Crystal pointed at a bare patch of her arm. She had several tattoos, but none of them were fruit. “We assumed that meant that the Apple cult had killed Yasir.”

Yet here he was, obviously healthy and in charge of the Union unit securing the Bain Marshall gate.

Unease crawled through Abram’s gut. “But he was Seth’s friend.”

“Yeah. Pretty close friends. They went way back.”

Abram didn’t entirely trust his own judgment, but he trusted Seth’s, even post mortem. If he thought that Yasir was trustworthy, then he had to be fine. Probably.

Now Yasir was addressing the Scions from beside a flatbed hauled by a semi.

“We’ll train in the sanctuary,” he said. “Our witches are finding the weak spots in the wards as we speak and will have everything reinforced by nightfall. We’ll be safe within the sanctuary while we prepare. Load up on the trucks so we can move.”

The Scions exchanged looks and murmurs. Nobody was getting onto the truck.

Abram stepped forward. “What about the fissure, sir?”

“These men will stay here to guard the bridge.” Yasir pointed at three of the SUVs. “We won’t leave it unsupervised. No demons will get through it on our watch.”

“Some demons are allies,” Abram said. “Don’t shoot anyone coming up.”

Yasir gave a sharp nod. “Understood.”

Abram faced the others. They were watching him. Waiting for a verdict. “Head into the sanctuary.”

The Scions listened to his orders where they had ignored Yasir’s. They climbed into the first truck, and, when that was filled, took up a second and third as well. Abram stood back to watch them trundle into the mountains.

Yasir was right—all of these men would be much safer within the sanctuary, especially if the Union witches could patch the holes in the wards. But he couldn’t quell his nerves at watching them being taken away from Northgate.

Abram had welcomed most of these people to Earth after long imprisonments in Hell. He had patched many of the wounds himself, given water to those too weak to drink, and even gotten many of them in contact with estranged family. He was responsible for the Scions and the other humans living in Northgate.

He wasn’t going to let them be taken and trained by the Union without his supervision, even if they were only going to the sanctuary.

The final truck bed was only half-filled by Scions. Abram joined them and sat opposite Josaiah, who looked relieved to have the Union take over. It was etched all over his aged face, and Abram was a little irked to see it. Josaiah had stepped up to a lot of responsibility after his liberation from Hell. He wasn’t wrong to surrender that responsibility at the first opportunity, either. But it seemed weak to give up so quickly.