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Reese used the tip of her sword to push the door open wider, surprised when it easily swung all the way into the next area.
That was the end of the good news.
On the other side of the threshold, it looked like a bunch of mirrors were reflecting an arched hallway so the image repeated over and over. It was all brightly lit from above.
She poked her sword across the threshold.
The part of the blade that crossed through vanished.
Cursing softly, she lifted her chin and stepped through the doorway.
The minute she crossed over, the multiple mirror look was gone, replaced by a beautiful enclosed courtyard with four white, marble statues that made her think of Michelangelo’s masterpieces. Each of them was a foot taller than Quinn and they’d been placed on a raised platform in the middle of a fountain.
The fountain was in the center of a circular patio made of smooth stones.
Large-leafed palms, lush shrubs and tall stalks of plants with bright yellow flowers filled parts of the lush tropical backdrop for a cozy sitting area of low marble benches.
If she knew her art history better, she could probably identify the statues, all men without a fig leaf in sight, and they stood facing out. Intermittent water spewed up from different spots in the fountain, sometimes splashing the two-foot-tall retaining wall built of sparkling stones.
If those streams of water started dancing in sync, she wouldn’t blink an eye at this point.
If those statues became animated and attacked her, she would do her best to kill them.
The patio area had to be seventy feet across, bordered all the way around by a two-level structure the same white as the statues. Vines twisted around the columns and sprouted purple flowers the size of her hand. Walkways with railings went all the way around the second level of the circular enclosure, mimicking the lower level where a walkway also ran the perimeter of the area. Intermittent columns supported the upper balcony walkway.
Arched doors had been placed every ten feet along both the upper and lower walls. All black, except for one gold door on the lower level, directly across from where she stood.
Was that her next passage to access?
Could it be as simple as walking over and opening it?
Not a chance.
She moved forward slowly, keeping her eyes on the vegetation, the structure, anything that could be a threat.
“You have one opportunity to reach the gold door,” the closest statue facing her said in a smooth voice.
Reese lifted her gaze until she had to bend her neck to see him. “Do I have to fight you?”
“No.”
“Do you know where my friend Quinn is?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“No.”
Like that surprised her? “What can you tell me? We’re trying to save a young girl’s life and we’re losing time.”
“Time is not relevant here. If you depart this realm it will be the same moment in time as when you entered.”
That sounded great.
Wait, he’d said if.
She felt a sense of relief that they weren’t losing ground on finding Phoedra while here. That was encouraging, but she still needed to figure out what the hell the Keith wanted from her and if Quinn was with him or out here somewhere.
Standing in the center of the patio, she counted a total of ten doors on the top level and ten on the bottom.
She had a bad feeling about those black ones. “Sir?”
The statue’s bored expression never changed. “You have been informed. What more do you require?”
Informed?
Don’t snap at the statue that can help.
Offering a smile, which seemed stupid when talking to a chunk of rock or marble or whatever he was made of, she said, “If I go through that gold door, will I find the Keith?”
“You will not receive an audience unless you earn it.”
She sighed. “So I’ve heard. How do I earn an audience?”
“By surviving all attempts on your life.”
Doors flew open on the top level and demons of all types stepped out, took a look around, then down.
At her.
The energy in her blood churned, sending out the equivalent of demon pheromones.
Quinn had said not to use her powers in the hotel, but what about here?
She should have asked Stoneface.
Screaming, the demons leaped over the edge, landing hard on the ground. One broke his leg. That was promising.
She jumped to the outer ledge of the fountain and ran around the pool with her back to the statues, hoping he hadn’t lied about not fighting her.
“Here goes nothing.” She reached for her medallion.
It wasn’t there.
Oh, hell.
When she reached halfway around the fountain, she dove at the first demon, slamming her shield at his head. It cracked faster than an egg. Spinning into a living dervish, she kicked and slashed her way through the first seven. Every one of them burst into a cluster of sparks before disappearing.
This felt like a ... video game.
One of the demons raked a claw across her back. Shit, that hurt.
Okay, not a video game at all. The Keith was not kidding around.
She slashed the demon’s arm, cutting it off clean. When he stopped to look at the stump, she sliced the sword across his neck. There went his head.
All her hours of training to fight with anything she could get her hands on were paying off. But that had been for defeating the unexpected demon.
Not to become a video game avatar.
Two demons left.
One crawled toward her with a broken leg.
She ignored him for the one that had been stalking her from behind. Demonic energy rushed through her body, carried on a tidal wave of furiously pumping blood.
Her back burned from the claw wound.
Nothing she could do for it right now.
She took two steps toward the crawling demon and heard the swoosh sound of the stalker making a leap.
Spinning around, she dropped to her knees and shoved the sword blade up, hitting him under the breastbone and destroying his heart.
Nasty smelling blood should be raining down on her, but the same crazy splash of little fragmented sparks erupted and he was gone.
Breathing hard as she stood up, Reese started to leave when a claw cupped her ankle. She’d forgotten him.
Twisting hard, she sliced off the demon’s head.
“Eleven for me. The Keith, zip,” she whispered, trying to build up her confidence to open that golden door.
Casting a quick look at Stoneface, she could swear he smirked at her.
Evidently men were jerks as statues, too.
When she got close to the door, it clicked and began to slowly open.
This might feel like a game, but the bleeding wound on her back was burning even worse now. She couldn’t even recall what kind of demon had clawed her, so she had no idea if she would die soon or heal.
What are you thinking? Without the medallion, you have zero chance of healing.
“Well that’s encouraging,” she muttered. “Good thing I didn’t become a doctor with that fatalistic bedside manner.”
This time she didn’t even look into the open space on the other side of the door. Might as well avoid whatever mindfuck the Keith had put in place. Instead, she stepped through to find herself in a grassy area with three paths.
“Oh, come on.” Sweat dripped into her eyes.
The paths were all smooth, stone walkways that turned into long suspension bridges.
Moving forward carefully, she found a boulder taller than she was and climbed up to take a better look.
One bridge stretched over a burning volcanic pit. While she studied the structure of linked metal sections, flames shot up all around it and even through the slats she’d have to walk over.
The next crossing hovered above a glacial valley of ice-capped sharp mountains. Thousands of icy tips spiked up everywhere. As she watched, one of the spikes jutted up with no warning and broke off, crashing across the swinging walkway and knocking it sideways.
Lovely.
The last bridge appeared to be a swinging footbridge made of ropes, with wood slats for the walkway. It stretched over a beautiful canyon where a river ran peacefully a thousand feet beneath it.
Clearly, that’s a trap.
But she doubted any of them would be a cakewalk.
Had Quinn gone through this same gauntlet?
Would he have had his powers? No. Even if he did, he wouldn’t use them in the Keith’s realm. Had he survived? Was he lying somewhere bleeding to death?
Focus! She’d think about Quinn later if she survived. One of them had to make it through to help Phoedra. She didn’t want to die, but if it came down to one of them, she hoped it was Quinn who survived, so Phoedra had a father.
Stalling would not make this easier and the wound on her back continued to ache. At some point, she might not be as mobile.
Whipping the sword back and forth, she warmed up her wrist.
“Okay, paradise, what have you got?” Reese started walking forward at a steady pace, alert to everything that moved.
When she reached the bridge, she took a tentative step.
The bridge didn’t try to eat her.
There you go. Think positive.
The bridge had originally looked about a hundred feet long, but a quarter of the way across, something shifted. Now it stretched as long as a football field ... or two. She picked up her pace.
The sky changed from beautiful blue overhead to dark storm clouds gathering.
Was that a sign for her to hurry-the-hell up?
She needed Phoedra, who played way more video games than she did, but Reese would never want the girl to be in this place.
She started running, but lightning and rain immediately bombarded her. Then came the ice. She lifted the shield to protect her head from frozen water bullets the size of golf balls.
Her shield cracked.
She ran three more steps and the shield split completely in half, each part falling into the gorge. She tossed the handle in after it.
Below her, the peaceful river now rolled into a raging blast of flash flooding. Waves ripped trees loose and dragged them along in the river.
She slipped and slid down to her knees on the water-drenched wooden slats, then fought her way back up, clinging to the sword.
Without that one weapon, she seriously doubted her chances of reaching the next doorway.
Lightning struck the bridge behind her, setting it on fire.
Reese ran with all she had, taking the brunt of the ice balls battering her body. She tucked her head to protect her face as the hail hammered her scalp and popped her arms. She was almost to the other side when the bridge gave way from behind and slipped out from under her.
Nothing but air.
She lunged for the rope railing, snagging a link with one hand and clinging with all she had when her full body weight yanked her down. She flew toward the mountain, clinging to the ropes with one hand and trying to grab on with the hand holding the sword.
For a second, she almost let the weapon go out of fear of falling, but gripped it tighter and instead looped her arm around a wad of ropes. Muscles burned and the shoulder bearing most of her weight felt as if it might pull out of the socket.
Wind whipped her outward, then slammed her back against the rock wall, rattling her teeth. Her fingers slipped. She kicked wildly for a foothold.
“Here, give me your hand,” called from above.
Leaning back, she looked into the downpour, blinking to see.
The face of a young man with short brown hair and odd, bright-gold eyes looked down at her. He was dressed in nothing but a loincloth attached to a rope belt. Tarzan?
Rain and ice struck her face.
None of it seemed to bother him.
He offered a hand. “Give me your sword. I will pull you up.”
Not a chance she was handing over her only weapon.
His face twisted and changed from the stranger with creepy eyes to Quinn’s face, then back to the stranger.
Was he doing that or was her mind wishing so hard for Quinn that she was doing it?
She shoved her feet around frantically for purchase and one landed on a loop of rope.
“Hurry, miss, before you fall.”
“No.” Pushing up, she found another foothold and leaned in to slide her hand up for a higher grip.
Maybe he was a mirage that would disappear if she made it to the top. That sounded like a good game suggestion.
Rain and thunder held a war party.
As she got closer to the stranger, his body began altering from human to ... beast.
Clearly, the Keith wasn’t going with the mirage idea.
The beast warped into something with jaws wider than her head, black eyes that still looked human but with red outlines. Tusks shot out from each side of his jaw and curved down.
Claws tipped his hands, which changed right in front of her to paws more suited to the four-legged body he shifted into. He snarled louder than a lion’s roar and slashed a massive paw at her.
She clung to the rope with one hand and sliced off the leg he stuck down at her.
No explosion of sparkles this time.
Crap.
His body contorted again, keeping the hideous head, but changing into a twenty-foot-long orange serpent that slithered down the bridge.
She whacked at the body, but her blade bounced off the glistening orange scales. Clinging now with both legs twisted into the ropes, she was still a good eight feet below the ledge she needed to reach. The downpour of rain gushed over her.
Jerking around, she leaned over to see what her slimy friend was doing.
The monster serpent kept growing longer and longer until his body had woven itself in and around the dangling bridge she clung to, giving his hideous head a perfect support as he curled back up.
He bit her boot, yanking her foot back and forth.
She clutched the rope, fighting panic, and jammed her other boot hard at his nose, assuming he had one.
Keeping a stranglehold on the ropes and the sword, she saw no way out of this. The longer she struggled to hold on, the more fatigued she became and the less mobility she had for fighting.
The beast-serpent growled, sinking its fangs deeper and yanking the boot free, exposing her foot. She pulled her bare foot up closer and kept kicking at him with the other boot, trying to break his fangs.
Two snapped off.
He had a mouthful left.
He ripped the other boot off and spit it out. The boot fell forever, lost in the oblivion of fifteen-foot waves crashing everywhere.
The serpent lunged up and wrapped around her body. He circled her waist then lifted his head slowly to eye level.
She couldn’t breathe. He coiled tighter.
Scales had now run up onto his head. She wouldn’t be able to lop that off.
He reared back, jaws open.
With the serpent holding her in place, she was free to use both hands. She flipped the sword with the point sticking out.
His massive open maw dove at her.
She drove the blade deep into his throat.
He tried to bite down, but she twisted the blade back and forth, using all the strength she had in both arms.
She heard a loud pop.
Bright lightning shards shot from what had been a serpent monster.
She smiled.
And fell.
Nothing held her.
She flailed around to grab the tangle of ropes. Her heart jumped in her throat as she slid downward. Lunging, she caught the rope with both hands and yanked her body to a stop.
The sword went tumbling end over end out of sight.
Rain splattered her face.
She hung there, unable to do anything except breathe. Slowly, the rain subsided. The sun came out and the river below calmed.
But her sword was gone.
Clinging to the ropes, her heart raced. She didn’t want to accept losing and she’d keep going, but logically the challenges would become more difficult.
She’d barely survived this one, even with a sword.
Leaning back, she looked up fifteen feet and realized she hadn’t survived this yet.
Her arms burned and her body ached.
She wouldn’t win another fight, maybe not even if she had the sword. She would never see Quinn again.
“Don’t think that way,” she barked at herself.
Quinn might be out here, fighting just as hard. Besides, one of them had to live to find Phoedra.
Struggling with every move and wheezing for air, she started making her way up, hand over hand. It felt like forever before she finally got to the cliff and hauled herself along the rope until she could fall down on the thick vegetation.
That seemed like a cushy place to die.
Her back continued to burn from demon poison, but she didn’t care.
All she wanted to do right now was wait for the end.
When it didn’t come right away, she cursed herself for being a wimp and stopping. Pushing to her feet, she weaved a bit, but she was standing.
Looking over her shoulder, she took in the beautiful vista of mountains in the distance with splashes of green as it fell away to the quiet stream below.
Not a bridge in sight.
Can’t go back that way.
Shoving wet hair off her face, she wiped water from her arms, but the heavy humidity continued to give her a steam bath. One button held her shirt together and her pants weren’t in much better shape.
The vest was gone.
Her last weapon—the scarves—had vanished with the vest.
She hoped there were no poison stickers ahead since she had no shoes, either.
Moving forward, she climbed over fallen trees. This place felt like a rain forest. Her hair and clothes were wet, but the temperature was at least tolerable.
She discovered something positive about all this humidity. Before long, she felt fairly clean.
But the demon juice was working on her, because she was losing energy with every step. Her muscles felt leaden.
How long before this ended?
Keep thinking about Quinn.
Got it. She’d learned to trick her mind to get past pain by taking it to a place that felt good. She imagined being with Quinn in a pretty place where they could stroll through the woods. Flowers were blooming and birds chirped. They came to a lovely clearing where they sat down, then Quinn started kissing her. He took her clothes off and started making love to her.
“Really?” She shook her head. “I wonder if I’ll still have fantasies about him when I’m dead.”
She tried to make light of it, but she regretted not telling Quinn that she’d missed him over the past six weeks. That he was special to her. If she truly bared her soul, she’d admit that she wanted to find out what it would be like to make love for real with a man that fantasies couldn’t match.
Her miserable conscience piped up. That’s not all you want to find out with Quinn. You want a relationship.
“No,” she argued with herself. “I’m not so selfish as to want something more with Quinn when I would be a liability to him because of this demon blood.”
That shut her conscience down.
She scanned the jungle constantly for some path or sign that she was moving in the right direction, but nothing stood out as obvious so she kept her heading.
It didn’t take long before she came upon an arched door.
No building, just the door.
Right.
Leaning to the left, she looked past the door to find more of the same jungle.
“No weapon. What am I supposed to do now?” She waited for a tree to start talking, but nothing answered her. “Screw it.” She reached for the wrought iron handle and pushed, then pulled, but the door would not open. “Really?”
“Open Sesame.”
Nothing happened.
Heh. It had worked for Ali Baba.
Scratching her head, she considered everything she’d seen until now and finally came up with only one idea.
Lifting her fist, she knocked three times.
The door whipped opened and she was yanked inside.
