powder covered my face, giving my natural y pale skin a
sun-kissed look. Earrings in the shape of giant fans hung
from my ears and the false lashes Asia had glued above
my own tickled when I closed my eyes. She had even
sprayed my legs with fake tan from a golden bottle and I
smel ed like a giant coconut.
My
transformation
appeared
to
render
Tucker
speechless. “Beth, is that you under there?” he said. “You
look … um … very …”
“Quit your drooling, farm boy,” Asia snapped. “Now let’s
make tracks.”
“You’re coming?” he asked.
“Sure. Why not? You got a problem with that?” Asia’s
eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“No problem at al ,” Tucker said. He looked at me
meaningful y, concluding that this must be Jake’s idea of an
insurance policy.
When the three of us left the penthouse suite and came
down to the lobby, everybody stopped to watch us in
unison.
My new attire may not have felt right for an angel, but it
did make me feel better equipped to cope with the dangers
that might be waiting in the murky tunnels of Hades. I was
keen to get going and start my search for the elusive
portals. I knew it was dangerous, but for once I wasn’t
intimidated. I felt as if I’d been kept in the dark, both literal y
and metaphorical y, for weeks.
I purposely ignored the appreciative smiles from the hotel
staff as we sailed out of the revolving doors. I was fast
learning that manners and friendliness weren’t the way to
go if I wanted to gain any respect in Hades. Outside a
uniformed doorman tipped his hat and signaled to a long
black limousine that crawled silently up to col ect us.
“Mr. Thorn ordered a car for you,” the doorman
announced.
“How thoughtful of him,” I said grudgingly as I slid into the
backseat with Tucker. Even when he wasn’t there Jake
liked to keep a tight hold of the reins.
Asia sat up front. The driver appeared to know her and
they chatted briefly about mutual contacts. From behind the
partition of tinted glass, Tucker and I caught muffled
fragments of their conversation.
“Stay close at Hex,” Tucker advised. “I’m told it draws an
interesting crowd.” I didn’t ask for his definition of
interesting. I would soon find out for myself.
The club district of Hades was very different from where
Hotel Ambrosia was located. The hotel appeared to be in a
more remote area while the club district was a maze of
tunnels with metal doors set in concrete wal s. The
bouncers guarding the entrances looked like clones with
their crew cuts and expressionless faces. The way the
music spil ed out with its rhythmic beat made you feel like
the place had a heartbeat of its own. The effect was
claustrophobic.
Club Hex was located at some distance from the others,
accessible via a separate tunnel. When Asia flashed her
pass I realized entry here was by invitation only. Once
inside I understood why. The first thing I noticed was the
scent of expensive cigars in the air. Hex wasn’t so much a
nightclub as a gaming room for the Hades’ elite to wile
away their time. Its main patrons were high-ranking demons
of both sexes. They al moved with the agility of panthers
and shared a preoccupation with vanity, which was
evidenced by their glamorous attire. Not al of them were
demons. Some I could see were human—not souls, but
flesh and blood, like Hanna and Tuck. I understood without
having to ask that they were there for the express purpose
of pleasuring their masters.
The club’s decor with its baroque flavor was dramatic
and suggested the opulence of a long-gone era. There
were classical statues, marble pil ars, chairs richly
upholstered in black velvet, swags of silk curtains and
ornate, carved mirrors on every wal . I recognized the song
that filtered through the speakers in the ceiling. I’d heard it
before in Xavier’s car although it seemed much more fitting
here:
“I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the
way. I see earthquakes and lightnin’. I see bad times
today.”
Some guests sat at smal tables with fringed
lampshades, sipping cocktails and watching pole dancers
wearing what looked like beaded lingerie. At the central
tables the high rol ers were engrossed in various games. I
recognized the more established games, like poker and
roulette, but one cal ed the Lucky Wheel puzzled me at first.
Some half a dozen players sat around a table watching
smal computer screens. The screens showed a mass of
people on a dance floor. Each dancer appeared to be
represented by a different icon on the wheel. The dealer
spun the wheel and the player won if it finished on the icon
they’d chosen. It would have struck me as mindless had I
not seen for myself the torture that lay in store for the
dancers in the pit.
There was nothing secret or clandestine about the
patrons of Club Hex. Behavior that might have been
deemed objectionable on earth was openly flaunted here.
Couples engaged publicly in what could only be described
as foreplay as wel as unashamedly snorting lines of white
powder from countertops and popping pastel-colored pil s
like candy. Some of the demons were rough in handling
their human counterparts and the alarming thing was that
the recipients seemed to enjoy being mistreated. The total
absence of moral parameters was sickening.
I started having doubts about being there at al let alone
seeking out information about portals. The confidence I’d
started out with was fast evaporating.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea, after al ,” I said,
wavering. Tuck said something in response that I couldn’t
hear above the din of the music. Al eyes turned toward me
when I entered, despite my attempt to blend in and appear
inconspicuous. Some of the demons even sniffed the air as
though they could smel that I didn’t belong. The ones
nearest to us sidled closer, their shark eyes glinting. Tuck
wrapped an arm around my shoulder and steered me
toward the bar, where I hopped onto a stool, thankful for his
protective presence.
Asia ordered us vodka shots. She downed hers in an
instant and slammed her glass down while I sipped
tentatively at mine.
“It’s not cordial, sugar,” she mocked. “Are you
trying
to
draw attention or what?”
I flashed her a defiant look then tipped my head back and
gulped down the contents of my glass. The vodka had no
taste but rather coursed down my throat like liquid fire. I
fol owed her example and slammed down my empty glass
triumphantly before realizing it was a signal for the
bartender to refil it. I left the second glass untouched. My
head was already swimming and Tucker was glaring at me.
Then Asia said something that came out of the blue and
caught both of us by surprise.
“I think I can help you find what you’re looking for.”
“We’re just here to have some fun,” Tuck said once he’d
recovered.
“Sure you are. I can tel by that look on your face,”
sneered Asia. “Cut the crap, Tucker. It’s me you’re talking
to. I know what you want and I may have a contact who can
offer some advice.”
“You’re helping us?” I asked bluntly. “Why?”
Asia’s tone was condescending. “Wel , I’d rather not help
you, but his majesty appears to have developed a
schoolboy crush, which some would cal downright
embarrassing. I feel it’s my duty as a loyal subject to do
what I can to help him get over it. And I figure the best way
to do that—”
“Is by getting Beth the hel out of here,” Tucker finished for
her as if it made perfect sense.
“Exactly.” Asia directed her attention to me. “Believe me,
I never do anything that doesn’t benefit me and right now I’d
love nothing more than to see the back of you. Hopeful y
before any real damage is done to the Third Circle.”
I remembered Hanna mentioning the Third Circle back
when I’d arrived, but I didn’t understand why it was under
threat.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“Asia’s referrin’ to the rebel faction that wants to see
Jake brought down,” Tuck explained. “They feel he’s been
neglectin’ his duties of late.”
“I don’t believe it,” I said. “How can a faction of demons
plot against their leader?”
Asia rol ed her eyes. “Jake isn’t just a demon, he’s a
fal en angel. He’s one of the Originals, the ones who fel
with Big Daddy right from the very beginning. There are
eight of them, the Eight Princes of the Eight Circles. Of
course, Lucifer himself presides over the ninth … the
hottest circle of Hel .”
“So if there were only eight original demons,” I said
slowly, “al the others must have been created by them.”
“Oh, wow,” Asia said mockingly. “Not just a pretty face.
Yes, the Originals run the show. The other demons have no
real control, they’re disposable, nothing but worker bees.
The favored ones are assigned to the torture chambers or
invited into the beds of the power players. Sometimes they
band together to try and overthrow one of the Originals.
Course, they always fail.”
“What if they were found out?” I asked.
“Jake would slaughter them al .”
“There ain’t nothing the Originals won’t do to protect
themselves,” Tucker said. “Jake more than anyone.”
“So how does this rebel faction plan to overthrow him?” I
asked.
“They don’t do much,” Asia shrugged. “They’re idiots
mostly, waiting around for a chance to damage his power.”
“I thought you were his biggest supporter,” I said, trying to
keep my voice level. Maybe we could bargain with Asia
after al . “Why haven’t you told him about this?”
“It never hurts to keep a few things to yourself,” Asia said.
“Are the rebels angry with Jake because of me?” I asked.
“Yep.” Asia threw up her hands. “They’ve expressed their
concerns but Jake won’t listen.” She sneered at me.
“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess.”
“Aren’t you putting yourself in danger by helping us?”
“Haven’t you heard the expression ‘Hel hath no fury like a
woman scorned’? Let’s just say my ego is wounded.”
“Can you tel us what you know about the portals?”
Tucker asked.
“I didn’t say I knew anything. But there is someone out
back who might. His name’s Asher.”
Heavy drapery across a back wal led to an al eyway
where a demon in an Italian suit was waiting for us. Asher
turned out to be in his mid-thirties. He was tal with dark hair
cropped close and a face like a Roman emperor. A cowlick
fel across his forehead and there were pockmarks on his
cheeks. He was chewing on a toothpick, unaware that he
looked like a cliche from a gangster movie. His nose was
slightly hooked and he had the same flat shark eyes that
identified him as a demon. He was leaning against the wal
but moved graceful y forward upon seeing us. He looked
me up and down; his curiosity quickly replaced by
disapproval.
“That outfit isn’t fooling anyone, sweetheart,” he said.
“You don’t belong here.”
“Wel , at least we agree on one thing,” I replied. “Are you
with the rebels?”
“Sure am,” Asher said. “And I’ve got exactly two minutes
so listen up. What you’re looking for you won’t find in this
district. The portals take many forms, but the one I’ve heard
most about is in the Wasteland, outside the tunnels.”
“I didn’t know there was anything beyond the tunnels,” I
said.
“Course there is,” Asher sneered at me. “Nothing living of
course. Only lost souls roaming until the trackers drag them
back.”
“How wil we recognize it?”
“The portal? Look for the tumbleweed drifting back and
forth across the Wasteland. When you leave here head
south and keep going. You’l know when you find it … if you
make it that far.”
“How do I know we can trust you?” I asked.
“Because I want to see Jake burn as much as you do. He
treats us like dirt and we’re sick of it. If he loses his
conquest so soon, his power wil be chal enged and we
might have a chance of overthrowing him.”