The Crossing (Immortals) (27 page)

But the door they'd just passed through was gone.

"Bloody hell," Mac muttered. "Nowhere to go but forward. Just keep your head down. We'll get through it."

He pulled her forward, down one of the aisles. She followed in a blind stumble, embarrassed to be so freaked out.
She'd thought she was ready for this. For Hell. She wasn't.

Too late for second thoughts now.

Mac's arm encircled her shoulder. His touch reminded
her of what they'd done in the elevator. That had been as
beautiful as the acts on the massive theater screen were
horrible.

"Steady, love. I see an exit."

"Where?"

"There. See the red light just near the screen?"

"How do you know that's the right way out?"

"Don't, really," he replied briefly.

The sounds of sex grew louder, and more disturbing,
the closer they got to the front of the theater. With it
came heat, and bitter, unwanted arousal. Trembling,
Artemis tried to ignore the lust smoldering between her
thighs. It's not real. But it felt as if it were. Tingling heat
caressed her breasts, her belly, her buttocks. Mac's arm
tightened around her. He'd felt it, too.

She sucked in a breath, suddenly aware that she'd forgotten to inhale for several long seconds. "Sex. It's all I can
think of."

Mac's voice was warm and low in her ear. "I want you,
too, love, but I hardly think this is the time, or the place."

"Dante wrote about this. Hell's second level is reserved
for souls whose lives were consumed by lust."

The exit light loomed above them, the outline of a door
below. Mac pushed the lever; thank the gods, the door
opened. He shoved her over the threshold so violently
that she stumbled. She righted herself and turned just in
time to see the door snap closed with a resounding thud.

Mac was still on the other side.

"No!" She grabbed the handle and heaved with all her
strength. The door didn't budge. Desperate, she pounded
with both her fists. "Mac! Are you there? Can you hear me?"

Nothing.

She blasted the door with an unlocking spell. A melting
spell. An explosive spell. Her magic had no effect. If Mac
was on the other side, trying to get in, she couldn't hear
him. Finally, she sank to the floor, her throat spasming on
a sob. Gods. How could she have let the door close between them? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What had happened to Mac? And what was she to do
without him?

She raised her head, suddenly aware of buzzing. The
noise came from a flickering fluorescent light directly over
her head. Identical fixtures marched down the ceiling of a
long access corridor. Slowly, Artemis stood. The hallway's
walls were blank, and the passage seemed deserted. She
couldn't see the end.

With nowhere to go but forward, she started walking.
After a time, a light appeared in the distance. An exit?

It was a slim beacon of hope, but she fixed her eyes on the
glow and plowed toward it. The light grew steadily. The
outline of a human form took shape within the glow.

The figure stepped toward her. Recognition hit like a
slap across the face.

Artemis halted. "Malachi."

The demon bowed. "Miss Black."

"Where's Mac?"

Vivid anger simmered red in the Old One's black eyes.
"Do not speak to me of the Sidhe."

He took another step forward. The odor of rotten eggs
surged with his movement. Artemis fought the urge to retreat.

"It was clever of you, I admit, to lure a tainted demigod
into your service." The demon smiled, revealing a row of
even, white teeth. "So clever, in fact, that I may be encouraged to forgive you for the infraction. This new negotiation you've opened promises to be even more
interesting than the last."

"We're not in negotiation."

"Oh, I think we are, my dear. Your immortal lover
might have brought you across the Styx, rather than I, but
that doesn't mean our contract has been voided. You'll uphold your end of our agreement. Especially now that the
Sidhe is..." His grin widened."... gone."

Gods. "What have you done to him?"

Malachi shrugged. "I suggest you think of yourself, and
your quest. Or have you forgotten your son?"

Artemis went very still. "No. Of course, I haven't."

"Your protector is no longer here to guide you to Ptolomaea. Or even out of this corridor. Only I can do that."

She was only too afraid Malachi spoke the truth. She
sucked in a breath. "All right. If... if you're still willing
to help me, I'll uphold my side of the bargain. Once my
son is safe in the human world, I'll become your whore."

Malachi's white teeth flashed. "I adore human mother
love. It's so deliciously... inconvenient."

"Do your part, then. Show me the way."

"Oh, not so quickly, I think. You ran out on a blood contract. Embarrassed me in front of my thralls. Damaged my
elevator. All that, Miss Black, calls for a renegotiation."

A bad taste burned Artemis's palate. "What kind of
renegotiation?"

"One you'll welcome, I suspect. It has the potential to
end in a much better scenario for you. Your son, safe in the
human world. And you, safe with him. No need to prostitute yourself."

She stared. "You would help me? And let me go free afterward? With Zander?"

"Yes."

Hope sparked to life, but it was a cautious flame. A favor
granted by an Old One came with a steep price.

"What would I have to do in return?"

"A simple thing, really, for a witch of your unique abilities."

"Just tell me what it is."

Malachi's eyes blazed red. "Deliver your immortal lover
into my power."

Artemis raised her brows. "Ah, so you don't have Mac,
after all."

Flames shot from Malachi's fingertips, striking the
ground at Artemis's feet. She leaped back, heart pounding.

"It matters not. You will imprison him for me."

"And just how do you expect me to do that? I've got no
idea where he is, and neither do you. And even if I could
find him, how the hell could I imprison him? Mac's a
demigod. I'm... just a human. There's no way I could entrap him."

Malachi threw back his head and laughed. "Ah, but
you've ensnared the great Manannan mac Lir already. You
lured him into Shadowhaven. Into Hell. No god would
follow a human to this place. Not unless that human
wielded great power over him."

"You're wrong. I don't have any power over Mac. Not
at all."

"Come, now, do not lie to me. I do not pretend to understand the disgusting life-magic insanity humans call
love, but I recognize it readily enough."

"Love?" Her heart pounded in her ribs. "That's absurd.
Mac doesn't love me."

But, she realized with sudden clarity, she was dangerously close to loving him.

"If Mac Lir doesn't love you yet, you'd better pray you
can rouse that elusive emotion in his immortal soul...
or, failing that, a sentiment close enough to love as to
make no difference. Lust will do, I think. He's half Sidhe,
after all."

"But... Mac has nothing to do with our original contract." Artemis knew she was grasping at straws. "Leave
him out of it. I don't want to renegotiate."

"You've broken two contracts. Your only hope is to negotiate a third. Those are my terms. The stakes rise.
Deliver the sea god's son to me, and you and your own son
go free. Refuse to cooperate..." The smooth voice
trailed off, leaving malice lingering in the air.

Artemis's gut twisted. "What will you do if I don't
agree?"

"Ah." Malachi crossed his arms. "Finally, we advance. If
you refuse to cooperate, I will personally see that your
son's body joins his soul in Hell. For all eternity."

It was only by a supreme effort of will that Artemis remained standing. "No. That would please Hecate too
well. You hate her. You wouldn't want to-"

"Silence! Do not presume, witch, to guess what I would
or would not do. I have presented you with your choices.
All that remains is for you to choose whom you will betray, your lover or your child."

Gods. She was going to be sick. Choice? She had no
choice. Mac was a demigod; Zander was an innocent. She
couldn't condemn her son to eternal damnation. But
Mac... Pain knotted her chest at the thought of betraying him. Again. But Mac's power was vast. He was learning
to transmute his life magic into death magic. His skills
were new, but as he'd said, he was a good student. She had
to believe he could come up with a few tricks in a fight
with a demon like Malachi.

Malachi snapped his fingers. A long scroll appeared in
his hand, the curled end of the parchment brushing the
scuffed vinyl tiles at his feet. Row after row of tightly
scrawled black lettering ended in a bold slashing line,
marked with an X.

"Your new contract, my dear. Will you sign?"

A quill appeared in his hand. The nub was a sharp,
pointed blade. With shaking hands, Artemis accepted it.
Slashing the quill's tip across her forefinger, she waited,
light-headed, as her blood welled.

Malachi watched with satisfaction as she smeared her name at the bottom of the cursed document. When she
was done, he rolled the scroll with a flourish and tucked it
under his arm. "You will deliver the immortal into my
power."

"I:11..
. try.

The demon raised one sleek eyebrow. "I hope, for your
son's sake, that you succeed."

Artemis clenched her bloody finger inside her fist.
"Where is Mac now? How do I find him?"

"That, unfortunately, I do not know. He may be on this
level, or he may have found his way to the one below. But
fear not. Your human love, it is said, conquers all. You will
find him." He paused. "I suggest you do it quickly. My patience wears thin. Bring Mac Lir to Hell's fifth level. I'll
await you there."

"But-"

"No more questions. Be warned, lest you are tempted to
deceive me yet again. I have chosen a very slow, very
painful method of death for your son if you betray me a
third time." He flicked an invisible speck of lint from his
suit. "You will not, I think, enjoy watching the boy die."

"Artemis! Damn it, woman, are you there?"

Mac pounded on the door. Not a sound came from the
other side. Long minutes had passed since Artemis had
disappeared behind the intractable steel barrier-perhaps
as much as a half hour. She could be anywhere by now.

He drew back, considering his options. He'd conjured a
few decent blasts of hellfire, his most powerful to date,
to no effect. Now, as he watched, the outline of the
door wavered. Melted. Streamed down the wall into a
puddle at his feet, leaving nothing but dusty, faded wall
fabric in its place.

The exit light winked out of existence.

The door was gone.

Cursing soundly, Mac spun about and stalked back up the aisle to the rear of the theater. As he'd suspected, a
new set of doors had appeared. They opened easily. He
found himself in a deserted theater concessions area, staring at a bank of Coming Attractions posters. The odor of
stale popcorn hung in the air.

He paced to the center of the room, his boots clinging
to a thin film of dried, spilled soda. At least he hoped it
was soda.

"Mac? Brother?"

He spun around, heart lurching. "Leanna?"

He saw nothing but an arrangement of battered cafe tables.

The voice sounded, again from behind.

"Mac..."

He whirled about and ran a few steps in the new direction. Leanna's whisper drifted to somewhere on his right.
He barely had time to turn before the plea shifted to his
left. Then behind him, and in front, and from every direction at once, like a badly mixed sound track.

He halted, pulse pounding double time. It was a trick. It
had to be. An echo of his guilt and his regret, plucked
from his brain. Culsu hadn't brought Leanna to Hell, but
to her own demon realm.

But what if Leanna were here, now?

It was possible. When the Immortals had destroyed
Culsu, Mac had wondered if his sister would be set free.
When she hadn't appeared in the human world, he feared
she was dead. But what if she'd survived? What if she'd
been trapped in the death realms? Or here, in Hell? If he
found her, he could bring her home.

He prowled the theater lobby looking for answers.
There were none. The door leading into the theater had
vanished, and no others had appeared. He sank down in
one of the cafe chairs. Sooner of later, he suspected, his
next move would find him.

He was right. Even so, the sudden flash nearly toppled him off his seat. Regaining his balance, he raised an arm
against a blinding glare of dirty light that put him in mind
of a rainbow dragged through mud.

The chaos gradually resolved into the form of a naked
human woman. A demon. He remained sprawled in his
chair, regarding her impassively. Her guise was exquisite.
Long, vivid red hair framed slim shoulders, abundant
breasts, flat stomach, and shapely hips. The ends curled
against her long, firm thighs.

Unwanted lust pooled hot and heavy in his groin. Coherent thought slipped away. Hell's version of Lady Godiva inflamed his every nerve. She's a demon, a small,
disgusted corner of his mind ranted. Have some pride. Did
his unruly cock listen? No.

The demon smiled, lashes fluttering as she eyed the
bulge in his jeans. In retaliation, Mac called an image of
his mother to mind. Immediately, his shaft shriveled.

The demon's brows collided.

Mac almost laughed. Better. Much better.

He met her gaze. Her eyes were blue, he noted, without
a trace of red. An Old One, then.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Her ruby lips pouted. "Don't you recognize me, Mac? It
hasn't been so long, has it?"

He smiled grimly. "Ah, Hecate. The last time I saw you,
you were a hag."

"My hag guise is very useful at times, I admit. But I prefer this body." She struck a pose. "Don't you?"

Despite his best intentions, Mac couldn't stop his gaze
from dropping to her breasts.