Hades (12 page)

Her presence was strangely calming. Perhaps it was the

open candor of her face that was so at odds with these

bizarre surroundings.

“May I ask your name?” I said.

“I am Hanna,” she replied directly. I noticed her English

was a little stilted, as if she hadn’t learned it as her mother

tongue.

“And you work at this hotel?”

“Yes, miss, I’ve been assigned to you.” My face must

have reflected my confusion because she added, “I’m your

maid.”

“My maid?” I repeated. “I don’t need a maid.”

The girl misconstrued my irritation as being directed at

her. “I wil work hard,” she reassured me.

“I’m sure you wil ,” I said. “But the reason I don’t need a

maid is that I’m not planning on staying here very long.”

Hanna gave me a strange look and then shook her head

vehemently. “You cannot leave,” she said. “Mr. Thorn never

lets anyone leave.” She clapped a hand over her mouth,

conscious of having said too much.

“It’s okay, Hanna,” I said. “You can say anything to me. I

won’t repeat a word.”

“I’m not meant to speak to you. If the prince were to find

out …”

“You mean Jake?” I snorted. “He’s not a prince!”

“You mustn’t say things like that out loud, miss,” Hanna

whispered. “He is the prince of the Third Circle and treason

is a capital offense.”

I must have looked completely baffled. “There are Nine

Circles in this world, each one ruled by a different prince,”

she explained. “Mr. Thorn presides over this district.”

“Which idiot gave him so much power?” I snapped and

then, seeing the alarm on Hanna’s face, quickly modified

my tone. “I mean … how did that come about?”

“He was one of the Originals.” Hanna shrugged as if

those six little words explained everything.

“I’ve heard about them,” I said. The term rang a bel . I was

sure I’d heard my brother Gabriel use it, and I knew it dated

back to the beginning of time and creation.

“When Big Daddy fel from grace …” Hanna began

casting a furtive look at the door.

“I’m sorry?” I interrupted her. “What did you just say?”

“That’s what we cal him down here.”

“Cal who?”

“Wel , I suppose you would know him as Satan or

Lucifer.”

I felt the pieces of the puzzle begin to fal together in my

mind.

“When Lucifer fel from Heaven there were eight angels

who pledged their al egiance to him … ,” I continued the

story for her.

“Yes.” Hanna nodded eagerly in confirmation.

“Michael cast them out along with their rebel leader and

they became the very first demons. Since then they’ve used

whatever means they can to wreak havoc on the earth in

retaliation for their expulsion.” I paused to let the enormity of

it sink in. I frowned as a paradoxical image came into my

head.

“What is it, miss?” Hanna asked, seeing my expression.

“It’s just hard to imagine that Jake was once an angel,” I

said.

“I wouldn’t say hard; more like
impossible.
” Hanna’s

words were so blunt that I had to smile.

Stil , I couldn’t shake the thought from my head. Jake and

I shared a genealogy. We had a common maker. What

he’d since become was so far removed from what he was

original y created to be. I’d always known it, but I guess I

was so eager to banish him from my mind that I’d never

al owed myself to think it through properly. I couldn’t

reconcile that the Jake I knew, the Jake who had tried to

destroy my town and the people I loved, had once been just

like me. I knew about the Originals. They were the most

faithful servants of Lucifer, the ones who’d been with him

right from the word go. Throughout human history he’d sent

them to occupy positions in the highest echelons of society.

They had crept into communities on earth, enabling them to

continue their corrupting influence on mankind. They had

infiltrated the ranks of politics and law where they were able

to destroy without consequence. Their influence was

poisonous. They indulged man, preyed on his weaknesses,

and used him to their own advantage. An appal ing thought

occurred to me. If Jake worked for a higher power, then

who was real y to blame for what had happened thus far?

“I wonder what Jake wants this time?” I murmured.

“That is easy,” said Hanna in her funny, stilted English.

She seemed happy to be of use, to impart some

information I didn’t possess. “He only wants for you to be

happy. After al , you are to be his bride.”

I laughed at first, thinking she was making some horrible,

tasteless joke. But when I looked at Hanna with her round,

childlike face and big brown eyes, I knew she was only

repeating what she’d heard.

“I think I need to see Jake,” I said, slowly trying to conceal

my mounting panic. “Right away. Can you take me to him?”

“Yes, miss,” she replied promptly. “The prince has asked

to see you anyhow.”

Hanna ushered me down the dimly lit corridors of Hotel

Ambrosia, moving like a ghost across the thick carpet.

Everything was eerily stil , and if there were other

occupants, there was no sign of them. We took the glass

elevator, suspended in midair like a bubble. Once inside

we could see al the way down to the central fountain in the

lobby.

“Where are we going?” I said. “Does Jake have a

special dungeon he likes to conduct business from?”

“No. There’s a boardroom on the ground floor.” I realized

Hanna took everything I said at face value, so sarcasm was

pretty much lost on her.

We stopped in front of a pair of imposing paneled doors.

Hanna’s reluctance to go any farther was obvious.

“It’s safer if you go in alone, miss,” she said pointedly. “I

know he means
you
no harm.”

I didn’t argue with Hanna. I certainly didn’t want to expose

her to the vagaries of Jake’s temper. I didn’t feel frightened

now that I was going to come face-to-face with him again. In

fact, I wanted a confrontation, even if only to tel him what I

thought of him and his heinous plans. He’d done his worst;

there was nothing further he could do to hurt me.

Jake looked edgy when I walked in, as if he’d been kept

waiting too long. There was a fireplace here too, and Jake

was standing with his back to it. He was dressed more

formal y than usual in tailored pants, an open-col ared shirt,

and a deep purple dinner jacket. Light danced across his

bone white skin. He looked just the same as I remembered,

with strands of long dark hair fal ing across eyes that were

glassy and reminded me of a shark’s. When he saw me, he

began pacing around the room, pausing to examine one

detail or another. There was a vase of long-stemmed roses

in the center of the table. Jake plucked one to inhale the

scent and then twirled it idly in his hands. He ignored the

thorns and trickles of blood that ran down his fingers as if

he couldn’t feel any pain at al . I realized he probably

couldn’t and the wounds healed a moment later.

An imposing table fil ed the boardroom, so highly

polished it reflected the ceiling. High-backed swivel chairs

were arranged around it. A giant monitor took up an entire

wal . On it I could see scenes from the clubs. I watched in

fascination the image of bodies shiny with perspiration

dancing so closely together they were almost melded into

one entity. Even though it was only on a screen, the scene

made me feel light-headed. The image shifted suddenly to

rows of statistics and numerical calculations, then back to

the tireless dancers. It seemed to zoom in on individuals

and tabulate information about them.

“What do you think of my club rats?” Jake boasted.

“Damned to drink and dance for eternity! That was my

idea.” He held a tumbler from which he periodical y sipped

an amber liquid. A half-smoked cigarette hovered on the

rim of an ashtray.

Someone coughed and I swung around to see we

weren’t alone. A youth who didn’t look much older than me

sat in the far corner of the boardroom, stroking a sleeping

cat. He was dressed in a checkered shirt and pants so big

they had to be held up with braces. His brown hair was cut

jaggedly across his forehead as if it had been done with a

pair of shears. He sat with his feet pointing inward the way

a child might.

“Beth, meet Tucker. He’s one of my assistants and he’l

be keeping an eye on you. Tucker, stand up and shake

hands,” Jake barked at the boy before smoothly turning

back to me. “My apologies for his boorish manners.”

Jake seemed to treat him as some kind of pet that he

was in the process of training. When Tucker stood up and

came toward me, I saw that he had a discernible limp and

dragged his right leg. He held out a large, cal oused hand

for me to shake. I saw a deep scar ran from his upper lip to

the base of his nose. It pul ed his lip up slightly so that he

looked as if he were permanently sneering. Despite his

size he seemed vulnerable to me. I tried smiling at him, but

he only scowled darkly and averted his gaze.

Tucker’s movement roused the cat, a Siamese and none

too friendly. It arched its back and hissed ferociously at me.

“I don’t think he likes competition,” said Jake in a silky

voice. “Enough with the temper tantrum, Faustus. How are

you settling in, Bethany? I’m sorry your arrival had to be so

dramatic,
but I couldn’t think of any other way.”

“Real y?” I retorted. “I would’ve thought over-the-top is just

the way you like it, being the big drama queen you are.” I

tried to make my words as offensive as I could. I was in no

mood to humor him.

Jake twisted his mouth into an O of mock surprise and

clamped his fingers over it.

“My, my, we’ve learned to be catty. That’s a good thing.

You can’t go through life always being Little Bo Peep.”

Jake reminded me of a chameleon in the way he could

alter his appearance to blend with his surroundings. On

home ground he was entirely different from the way I

remembered him at school. At Bryce Hamilton he had been

self-assured but stil an outsider. He’d his devoted clan of

fol owers, but it was the subculture he represented that was

his strongest attraction. He’d known he didn’t belong and

made no attempt to conceal it. Instead, he seemed to revel

in drawing attention and when he worked his seductive

influence over a student, it gave him a smug satisfaction.

But he’d always been on the alert, prepared for any

eventuality. On his home turf, Jake was entirely relaxed, his

shoulders sloped, his smile lazy. Here, he had al the time in

the world and his authority went unquestioned.

He rol ed his head to the side impatiently and addressed

Tucker. “Are you going to pour my guest some wine or just

stand there al day like the oversize lump of uselessness

you are?”

The boy hurried over to a low table and grabbed a crystal

glass with clumsy hands. He fil ed it with crimson liquid from

a decanter, and set it down gruffly in front of me.

“I don’t want a drink,” I snapped at Jake, pushing the wine

away. “I want to know what you’ve done to me. There are

things I want to remember, but my memories are blocked.

Unblock them!”

“What’s the point in remembering your past life?” Jake

smiled. “Al you need to know is that you were an angel, and

now you’re
my
angel.”

“You honestly don’t think you can keep me here without

some consequences? Some divine retribution?”

“I’m not doing too badly so far,” Jake chuckled. “Besides,

it was high time you got away from that hick town. It was

clearly holding you back.”

“You make me sick!”

“Now, now, let’s not squabble on your very first day.

Please, do sit down.” Jake’s voice became suddenly

inviting as if we were two friends reuniting after a long

separation. “We have so much to talk about.”