Labyrinth: Acropolis Series Book II (4 page)

"Emma," Will greets, his voice low as she
moves behind the rest of the group.

Emma doesn't look up, and her presence at my
back is disconcerting. Alessandro clears his throat.

"I'm assuming you're curious as to why you
have been summoned here," he says, his eyes sweeping the hybrids.
There is no response, but Alessandro doesn't expect one, and he
gestures at Marcas. "This is Marcas Craig. He is the new Demon
ruler in the Outer levels of Hell. He is also a hybrid. Recently,
he fought a campaign against Lucifer in which he secured a kingdom
for half-Demons in Hell. As hybrids, this makes him your king."

It's obvious by the way he steps back
Alessandro is giving Marcas the floor, and the Demon leans forward,
his dark blue eyes reddening. He makes a strong, intimidating
leader, and looks each hybrid opposite him in the eye. All but
Emma. She is still looking at the floor. I wonder at her
unease.

"I am here because I need your help," Marcas
begins. Marcas is blunt, and it's effective. The hybrids grow
tense, their eyes locked on the Demon.

"What kind of help?" Bruno asks, using his
large frame to muscle his way in front of Lyre. It's a smart move.
No one wants to give Lyre the opportunity to speak first.

Marcas' gaze moves to Bruno, and I see the
corners of his lips twitch. The dynamic between the hybrids have
changed while I was away. They've gone from being solitary
creatures to becoming a group, and it seems Bruno is the unspoken
leader. Marcas recognizes this.

"Recently, a war was fought in Hell, a war
for an Outer Level kingdom won by hybrids. I am their king, but the
kingdom is primarily ruled by the people. The hybrids have been
given a voice, and a home. I'm well aware of the difficulties
hybrid Demons have faced both in Hell and out of it. Hybrids are
dying at the hands of their Demonic parents as well as by the
people sworn to protect them."

Marcas' words are cutting, a direct insult to
Demons and gargoyles alike. Will, Marion, and Grace stiffen, but I
don't move. Our races have both made mistakes.

Marcas gestures at the hybrids. "Our kingdom
in the Outer Levels is a new one, and realistically, it is doomed
to fail . . ."

"And this is supposed to mean something to
us? Until today, we didn't know we had a king and we're supposed to
care about your kingdom?" a voice breaks in, and I'm surprised to
see it's Gray. He's sitting forward now, his hood back, his fingers
steeped on the table in front of him.

Marcas doesn't look at him. His eyes remain
on Bruno's, but I notice the small tick in Marcas' jaw, and I know
Gray's interruption has annoyed him.

"I'll give you that, Hybrid. Until recently,
I didn't know of your existence either. I am the son of the
she-Demon, Lilith, and as much as I despise the woman, her power
still runs through my veins. Each of you is the product of an
equally powerful Demon. You're hybrid blood is different, more
potent than the average hybrid."

Bruno glances quickly at Gray.

"And this is supposed to mean something to
us?" Bruno asks, repeating Gray's previous inquiry.

Marcas doesn't move, his gaze unwavering.

"Only if you want it to. Your parentage
affords you a certain responsibility to your own kind. The Outer
Levels of Hell are now a hybrid sanctuary, a kingdom full of
half-Demon men, women, and children. If it fails, we all die."

His words trail off dramatically, leaving
behind a silence filled with thoughts. The Acropolis' hybrids know
about survival. While Marcas was starting a riot in Hell and
marching on Lucifer, they were escaping the Acropolis and settling
into their new home in Italy. They don't care about Marcas'
politics. They do, however, care about their race and it's
longevity.

"Why would your kingdom fail?" a quiet voice
asks, the sound breaking the silence, and I feel tempted to
shudder. Emma's voice is soft. Hearing it is like having a feather
brushed across the skin.

Marcas finally looks away from Bruno, but he
avoids Emma's face. She seems nervous and unsure, and her gaze
moves skittishly around the room.

"
Our
kingdom," Marcas says firmly, "only inhabits one layer of
Hell, and even though our numbers are strong, we are still weak
compared to Lucifer and his followers. We can only endure so many
battles before we will be overtaken."

Lyre laughs, and Marcas' eyes go black.

"You have so little confidence in yourself?"
she asks.

Marcas' abrupt smile is menacing, his hands
settling firmly on the table before him, his sharp gaze on
Lyre.

"Confidence in myself is beside the point,
Hybrid. It's plain logic. You have a nation of half-Demons
inhabiting the corner of a region in Hell twice as small as the
rest of the Underworld with a hybrid population outnumbered two to
one by full-blooded Demons."

An arm brushes mine, and I look down to
discover Emma has moved up to the table. Her hands are shaking, and
she clasps them together tightly in front of her. I'm not sure if
it's fear making her shiver or if it's the tension in the room.
Something is different about her, but I can't place it. I want to
speak with her, but this isn't the time or the place.

"Then why did you do it?" she asks, her eyes
on Marcas. His head swings in her direction, and she takes a deep
breath. "The kingdom, I mean. Why did you fight for it if you knew
it would fail?"

Marcas pins her with his gaze.

"For freedom."

His answer is simple, but powerful. If there
is something the hybrids understand, it's the need for freedom, for
choice, for free will. Emma exhales. The urge to touch her is
strong, but something about the way she stands tells me it wouldn't
be welcome.

"Failure isn't freedom," Bruno points
out.

The other hybrids shift subtly, and it's
obvious they agree. Bruno isn't questioning Marcas' rule, he's
questioning its stability.

Marcas pushes away from the table, his gaze
sweeping the faces opposite him. The gargoyles say nothing. We know
exactly what Marcas intends to do, and there is no real reason to
stop him. The choice belongs to the hybrids.

"Avoiding failure is where you come in,"
Marcas says. The room stills. "You, more than anyone, are aware of
the hybrid animosity in Hell. It's why you were sent to the
Acropolis. For protection"

Fiona snorts."Protection?"

Grace reaches out and places a hand on her
arm.

"It
was
for protection, Fi. But the gargoyles weren't prepared to
care for creatures we were bred to hate, to destroy. A lot of our
families were killed by Demons. Most of them brutally. Guarding the
children of Demons was asking a lot from us," Grace points
out.

Fiona doesn't look at her. Even knowing it
was hard for us to shelter them, the hybrids can't forgive the
hatred, the prejudice they were forced to endure. Even under the
pretense of protection.

Marcas moves around the table, his
long, confident stride bringing him behind the students. There he
paces, slowly and deliberately. The tension in the room rises, and
I lose my "avoid touching Emma" fight, placing a hand on her
shoulder as her fists begin to shake so violently even clasping
them does not help. She doesn't seem to feel me. There is
definitely something
off
about
her.

"The point is, you were sent away from Hell,"
Marcas says.

His pacing slows. His movements are
distracting, his stance tall and commanding.

"You were sent away because of your
parents. Or more accurately, your Demonic parent. Each one of you
is the product of a very powerful Demon. Not a simple demon.
A
powerful
one. Because of
that, you were spared. In the end, your powers
will
matter."

"And that's why you n-need us?" Emma
asks.

Her stutter is obvious, and I hear Lyre
chuckle from where she stands near Bruno and Will. My hand tightens
on Emma's shoulder. She still doesn't acknowledge me. Her muscles
are taut, strained.

Marcas pauses behind Emma, maintaining enough
distance to keep her from panicking. I haven't seen her this
anxious since extracting her from the hospital in Atlanta.

"Yes, that's why we need you," Marcas says
simply.

Lyre breaks away from Bruno, her displeasure
obvious as she moves toward Marcas.

"We don't owe Hell or you anything."

Her disrespectful tone is grating, but Marcas
doesn't flinch. Dayton, however, has had enough. The fact that she
has remained quiet for as long as she has impresses me. It must be
Marcas' influence.

"Look, you've got a lot of nerve, and I
respect that, but listening to us costs you nothing. Marcas Craig
isn't just a hybrid, he's your champion. He's shed blood for your
cause, for that absolutely appalling bad attitude you seem to
have," Dayton growls.

Lyre spins to face the redhead, her
eyes black as midnight. "And who are you to talk? What have
you
got to do with us?"

Dayton doesn't even blink. She smiles
instead, the corners of her lips lifting dangerously.

"I am Dayton Blainey, daughter of the Angel,
Bezaliel, the only known Naphil to currently walk the face of the
earth. And, girl, my attitude is almost as bad as yours."

Luther laughs."That's no lie."

Dayton throws him a disgruntled look before
turning back to Lyre. "Let's make this simple. We need the Spear of
Destiny. It's the only way to keep Lucifer out of the Outer Levels
of Hell, and we need you to go and get it."

Dayton is forthright, her tone candid. If her
revelation about being the only half-Angel is startling, it is
overridden by her request. The hybrids all go rigid, their silence
deafening. Emma is the exception, and it is only because she is
shaking almost uncontrollably now. I attempt to pull her to me, but
she shakes her head hard.

"Emma . . ."

"N-n-no," she says firmly.

I drop my hand just as Fiona laughs, the
sound hysterical.

"The Spear of Destiny?" she asks.

One of the Garner twins moves closer to
the table."You're talking about the spear used by Longinus to
pierce Jesus in the side while he was on the cross, right?"
Hesther
or
Gwenyth asks. It
really
is
hard to tell them
apart.

Luther looks across the table at Marcas.
Their eyes lock and Marcas nods.

"Yes," Luther answers.

Gray pushes away from the table, one hand
still resting on the wood as he stands.

"The spear is a myth," he says.

Luther's eyes redden.

"You're a fool if you think so, Hybrid."

Luther isn't good at being disregarded. His
patience is much thinner than Marcas', and his temper is notorious.
Alessandro moves between Luther and the table, his hand held
up.

"I think what Luther is
trying
to say is that the spear is
very real and very powerful."

"Oh, la mia!" Maria Mancini mutters, her eyes
rolling as she steps up next to Alessandro. The look she gives Gray
and Luther is best described as withering. The old woman is cloaked
in a long, billowy house dress, her grey-peppered, black hair in a
bun at the back of her head. She plays absent-mindedly with a
rosary around her neck.

"Ah, Demoni, I realize you do not know me
well. I am a Seer with the ability to see past the seeming a Demon
or Angel projects. It allows me to tell the difference between
Angels, Demons, and mortals. Seers are also important guardians of
Biblical artifacts. I have guarded many in my lifetime, no? I know
many things about the object you seek."

Her Italian accent is deep, but she does not
falter, her eyes on the hybrids. Maria is a strong woman, mother to
the head of the S.O.S, and her wisdom is undeniable.

"The spear
does
exist, and it gives the wielder the power to
bend the destiny of the world to his will. It also has the power to
destroy Demons. It's origins alone will protect the new kingdom
Marcas rules. Its tip was once smeared with the blood of Jesus.
Satan cannot touch it," Maria explains.

Most hybrids are aware of the legends, of the
stories associated with the spear. The spear, like any artifact
that affects Demons, is something they are bred to know. The Holy
Lance has a long history. Used first to pierce Jesus' side on the
cross, it found its way into many hands, was held by many great and
not so great leaders. Hitler's hands among them. It is the reason
why Hitler, with his Nazi regime, was able to do as much damage as
he did in his lifetime. It was after General Patton removed the
artifact that Hitler committed suicide, for as powerful as the
spear is, it has one critical hang up. If a leader loses the spear,
he will die not long after.

Bruno shakes his head."And you want us
to steal this for
you
?" Bruno
asks, spinning so that his eyes are on Marcas.

Marcas meets his gaze calmly."Yes, I do. With
the spear, the Outer Levels of Hell will be secure, protected
against Lucifer."

Even without the ability to sense emotion, I
can feel the doubt in the room. Bruno gestures at the hybrids
before pointing at Marcas.

"And you expect us to trust you? You're not
talking about a rag doll or a Transformer toy here. You're not even
talking about stealing some expensive piece of shit out of the
British Museum or destroying the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
You're talking about the fucking Spear of Destiny," Bruno
argues.

This is where I come in.

"I trust them," I say, my voice loud
and commanding. The hybrids turn to me, and I keep my expression
even. "I left here to help rescue Dayton and fight alongside Marcas
and Luther against Lucifer. Trust me, if they wanted to start a war
on Earth or attempt anything heinous, they could have done it
already. They don't need the spear for that. The spear is strong,
yes. But Dayton and Marcas are strong too.
Together
they are strong. They are bound by
blood. Being loyal to them would be a smart move. Their kingdom
could become your haven."