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Chapter 4

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“I take it back, okay?” York tried to grab hold of my hand, stumbling after me as I walked ahead of him down the sidewalk. His frustrated groan followed me instead. “I don’t think we should leave right now. It’s too soon, Vienna.”

“I’m not listening to you!”

“I said I take back my decision to find your father tomorrow. I mean, today. This is a bad idea for several reasons. No, hear me out.” He tried for diplomacy when I met his smile with a glare of epic proportions. “Reason number one: we are three days away from the full moon and I am going to wolf out. No jokes,” he warned.

One eyebrow rose independent of the other and I stopped then. Gave him a chance to catch up. “Weren’t you the one who assured me you have it handled? We bought those chains and be-spelled them for a reason.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking embarrassed. “I lied.”

We were out in broad daylight. Or rather afternoon daylight, because York still wasn’t able to stand direct sunlight on his skin without looking like he’d turned himself into a lobster. Whatever poison he’d pumped into his veins in an attempt to cure his lycanthropy had backfired big time.

“Then I will have to make sure I do everything possible to keep you from hurting yourself and others. It’s not like I haven’t done it before,” I stated.

With a heavy sigh, he told me his thoughts in all their crazy glory. “Reason number one why I’m dragging my feet now. I want you to quit this psychotic mission to take down the Unseelie King. There are other issues that we should be focusing on besides a war with the fairies. I can’t even believe I’m saying this. A war with the damn fairies.”

Though his statement was only slightly less welcome than herpes, I had to give him props for his direct approach.

“Sorry. Not going to happen.” The King needed to pay for what he’d done to my mother. For what he’d done to me by proxy.

“Be that as it may, reason number two.” A second finger lifted as though she needed the physical demonstration. “You’ve never met your father.”

I’d heard enough and resumed walking down the street, my shoulders hunched over. “So that means he deserves to rot in hell? I don’t think so, York. My mother’s letter told me I would know what to do.”

“Reason number three,” he continued. “Your father is a Titan.”

“And?”

“And all those years in solitude have probably done wonders for his mind.” His hands flew up to his ears, his fingers wiggling. “How do you think the world is going to react to having an honest-to-goodness Titan on the loose? They haven’t walked the earth in, oh I don’t know...how many thousands of years old are you?”

I groaned, the sound phlegmy in the back of my throat. “Nice segue. Bringing up my age.”

“Have you stopped to consider the repercussions? I mean, I think leaping to knock, knock, knock on Tartarus’s door is a bit premature. Don’t you?”

Once again, I’d gotten too far ahead of him, and York reached out to grab my arm, turning me to face him. I matched him glare for glare.

His hair had gotten too long, pushing into his face and forcing him to blink against the strands. It gave him an edge he’d lacked before. To me, York resembled a dark lion: sleek, graceful, muscled and ready for action, every muscle poised with kinetic energy.

As though he heard my thoughts—which he probably had, through that damn blood bond—he cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing and his smile a blend of opposites. Confusion, pride, awareness, and watchfulness.

“You aren’t going to listen to me, are you?” he said at last. “I’m just wasting my breath.”

I was the one who broke the contact with a roll of my eyes.

“You’re set on this. I can feel it, even if you try to hide it from me. I know you’ve considered all this already.”

“If you can feel it, then you know. I’m going with or without you. You can either be in—”

“Or out.” It was a bark of sound before he drew me into an unbreakable hug. The contact solid and warm and over before I had a chance to respond. “Cut it out, Bean. You are not the only stubborn one in this relationship. You know better than to make threats at me. I think I’ve proven myself enough to you.”

We fell into step beside each other, the sun lowering toward the horizon. There was a tingle and zap of electricity when the bare skin of our hands brushed. I resisted the urge to grab him. To drag him back to the house, keep him safe. Be the caveman in our relationship.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me. I know you can handle yourself, better than any other person that I know. But I’m dead set on this,” I replied.

Dead being the operative word.”

“I told you—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his gaze fixed on the sidewalk in front of us. New York came alive at this hour, people walking along with us although we were all strangers in the same cage. “Stop trying to give me an out. If this is what you’re set on, then I’m with you. No need to do this alone. You could be killed.”

When he glanced over at me, those dark eyes bore into my soul, accompanied by a flash of teeth and a promise that the predator was never far from the surface.

Your life is at risk,” I corrected. “I’m immortal, remember?”

York bit the inside of his lip. “Only compared to us mortals. You’re talking about gods, Vienna. But...I might know someone who can help.”

I cocked a hip and planted a hand there. “You’ve kept a resource from me?”

He grabbed my arm and we resumed our walk, keeping in close contact, awareness raised for the potential of an attack. “The same guy who put me in contact with the witch who did our wards. I’d promised myself I would never reach out to him again. He’s not exactly a resource I like tapping. He’s one I try to stay as far away from as possible after what he did to me. But he’s good with maps.”

York gingerly touched his ribs, an unconscious flash of pain crossing his face at the memory.

“What did this guy do to you?”

He turned to me with a low growl, his pupils narrowing to slits. We were too close to the full moon. This was the beast. “Something I can’t reverse. Which is why I wanted to keep my distance. But he still owes me a favor.”

“Wait...maps? He could help us find the way to Tartarus?” I held my breath, hardly daring to believe it could be true.

“If we’re lucky. If we’re not, then who knows what other horrors await us. He could end up giving you a tail.”

“How did you get messed up with something like this? Honestly, York, he doesn’t sound like your usual.”

“When you’re desperate for a solution, you seek out whatever avenues you can. I don’t want that for you. This guy, he’s bad news. He’s a psychotic mage who has let his magic get to his head.”

York drew me toward the subway station, cars honking when we jaywalked across the street.

“But he might know a way into the Underworld,” I pressed. And this time it was I who struggled to keep up with his long-legged strides.

My shoulder knocked against a stranger and sent him stumbling two feet in the opposite direction. A hasty apology crossed my lips amidst his confusion.

“I need you to be sure that this is really what you want. Vienna, be sure,” York pressed.

A stone settled inside of me but my mouth formed the words. “I’m sure.”

He drew in a breath, held it in his puffed cheeks, released it slowly. “He’s here, in New York.”

Jogging down the steps to the underground platform, our footsteps echoed along with the masses. “He’s been here the whole time and you’ve kept it from me?”

“I kept him off the table, yes, because it was an avenue I didn’t want to go down again.”

His agitation nipped at me like a swarm of mosquitoes. “I...appreciate you bringing this up. It’s a definite first step.”

He gave me a rather stern look. “Know I don’t do it lightly.” He drew a subway pass card out of his wallet, swiped it, and pushed through the turnstile. “You are going to owe me.”

The same card allowed me entry as well, although I could have easily bent the metal like butter. “Whatever you need,” I agreed.

“Sex on the couch?”

My finger went to his chest. “Now you’re pushing it.” Despite my best intentions, my cheeks turned red. We hadn’t slept together yet. It brought my awareness back to the sexual tension that had been growing since he first sank his fangs into my flesh.

I marveled at the heat and the roar of my desire for him. At the same time, I was frightened. Frightened of the commitment I might have to make.

For more than a hundred years I’d taken no lovers. There’d been other similar self-imposed abstinences, but none that had lasted as long. It was as if I’d given up. Outliving someone I’d grown fond of was too painful, too self-punishing. But one-night-stands weren’t my thing either. So where did that leave me?

Unwilling to acknowledge the loneliness weighing me down heavier than iron shackles, I’d focused on my work for Xanthe. On finding magical objects and obtaining them for her.

Now...now I wanted York, wanted him in every physical capacity I could get, wanted the pleasure of being intimate with him. It would be a give and take, sharing our special bond, that animal closeness.

But if I opened myself up again to joy and happiness only to lose him too...I wouldn’t be able to endure it. It was that prospect that made me nervous to step back into the sex arena. Instinctively I knew it would be hot. Like magma hot. I could feel it in my own body and I’d never experienced anything so intense.

And all we’d done was kiss.

So far.

He snapped his fingers to lighten the tension. “Well, at least I tried. We’ll say payment to be rendered at a later date.”

“So how are we going to find this mage?” I glanced around at the throng waiting on the platform for the next train.

York sighed, running an agitated hand through his hair. “If he’s still where he was the last time we met, then he won’t be easy to get to. He prefers to live in isolation. Tucked away from humanity.”

“Sounds about right. I didn’t realize you came to New York to try and find your cure.”

“There are a lot of things I’ve kept to myself. If you look close enough with our bond you might figure out a few. If you ask me a question or two, you’ll know others. Aw, don’t make that face at me, Bean. You know I make jokes when I’m uncomfortable.”

“No one is more uncomfortable than me right now.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it. The mage isn’t going to make things peachy for either one of us. Take my damn hand and let’s get on with this circus.”

I consented, linking our fingers together and letting him pull me toward the right platform. We took the train to the Dyckman Street station and hopped off on the platform. York stopped me when I began to walk away toward the stairs.

“What’s going on?” I kept my voice hushed despite the screeching groan of the train pulling away down the tracks.

“We don’t go up,” he replied. “We go through.” He turned his head.

I looked in the direction he indicated and stared down into the darkened tunnel once the light of the train had disappeared into the gloom, the last car swallowed whole by the darkness.

“I don’t like cramped spaces, but unfortunately there’s no other way.” York began tugging me forward.

I patted him on the shoulder and sent him skidding ahead. Whoops! I needed to remember to keep the strength in check. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right behind you. Lead the way, Wolfie.”

With a glance over my shoulder, I leaped toward the tracks, thankful I’d worn black. York and I blended with the shadows, each step taking us farther away from lights. From safety. I knew he had no issues seeing in the dark. It wasn’t my specialty, but I could see well enough to keep from tripping.

“How much farther?”

Though I’d asked the question on a murmur, my words bounced off the old cement walls. Repeating back to me a thousand times over.

“Not much. He’s made a little rat hole for himself down here.”

Steam jetted out from a pipe next to my ear and I reached out instinctively, grabbing the metal and twisting until it squealed.

“Watch it, Bean. We don’t want to give away our position. If someone were to see a handprint on that pipe...”

“I know, I know.” I took a moment to stretch the metal into a semblance of its normal shape before moving on.

Half a mile down the tracks, York stopped at a space in the cement wall. His fist tapped the wall in several spaces, a pattern I couldn’t follow and one that made no sense even if I could.

“Fergus! Open up.” He paused a moment, glancing around as though he expected company. Or another train. “It’s Doctor York Quinlin.”

Another pause, this time accompanied by the groan of rock grinding together. The wall melted until there was a space large enough to step through.

That kind of magic didn’t surprise me. I’d seen too much and had slipped into a comfortable jadedness.

“After you,” York offered, sweeping his arm wide.

Sure, after me, right into the shark’s mouth. “You’re so chivalrous,” I teased. But stepped inside anyway.

Darkness gave way to light from sconces jutting forth from the cinderblocks in a hoarder’s paradise. Bookshelves lined the remaining three walls of this hidden underground chamber, stocked with objects that I could only guess as to their usage. There were also books and scrolls and maps crammed into whatever space remained.

I didn’t see anywhere to sit down. Just like I didn’t see any other doors when the wall closed behind us, sealing us inside. Where did the old hermit sleep?

York stepped up beside me until we stood shoulder to shoulder. “Fergus? You die in one of your stockpiles?”

“Very funny, Quinlin. I never thought I’d see your face in New York again. You haven’t changed a bit.”

The man stepped out from a tower of metal to my left, bottle-thick glasses turning him bug-eyed and he even had a hunch and lurch bringing to mind an insect. Fergus adjusted his spectacles, smiling and revealing rotting front teeth.

“And you still look like you’ve clawed your way out of a hole,” York replied, keeping his tone light.

Only I noticed his tension. The way he held tight to his control when he wanted so desperately to snap. This had me curious again about what this guy Fergus had done to York.

Then Fergus turned his attention to me and his grin went still. “I know what you are.” The older man blinked those big eyes at me, staring into my face as if trying to memorize the planes of my cheekbones. “You are a gorgeous thing, aren’t you?”

I was the paranormal community’s dirty secret. I wasn’t supposed to exist, and no one besides York had ever called me gorgeous. Which made this meeting even more awkward. “I prefer not to be called a thing.” I slipped my hands into my pockets.

This was nothing more than a deal, just like the ones I’d done for Xanthe hundreds of thousands of times in the past. He became the dealer and me the wheeler. He had the information I wanted.

Finally, a role I felt comfortable playing.

Xanthe had had me do a lot of business with magical creatures, her connections throughout the seedy world of black-market underground magic well known. She’d sent me back and forth across the United States for her collection. Any artifact she could get her hands on that would extend her power without the physical backlash that came from using her power. But somehow I’d never dealt with this person before. Was he even on Xanthe’s radar? Interesting.

“Show me,” Fergus demanded, a gleefully insane glint lighting his eyes. “Show me what you can do.”

Was he serious? “I don’t believe that’s necessary.” I kept my voice soft and cajoling. It was my secret weapon.

“Necessary? No, no. Desired, yes. And I find when there is something I desire, I follow through to the bitter end to acquire it.”

Fergus stood back, staring. Waiting.

I pushed my hair away from my face and twisted it back behind my head in a loose ponytail of wavy chestnut brown, then slowly lowered my hands to my sides. This whole meeting was taking too long for my liking. If I wore a watch, I would have been staring down at the moving hands and tapping my foot. Anxious to be gone without any of these stupid dog-and-pony antics.

“I could snap your bones in a second if you let me get close,” I informed him. “I’m indestructible. Literally. A regular paranormal version of Wonder Woman.”

York choked on his own laughter and I whipped my head around to face him. My nature explained my penchant for collectibles of the aforementioned superheroine, but I didn’t need him to undermine me during this deal.

The mage shook his head. “You want something, you give something. I assume you’re here because you want something from me. Thus, you will give me what I want.”

“We just want information. And I’m not killing anyone for you to get it.” The warning came swift and harsh.

“I don’t have enough time left for you to kill all my enemies for me. A simple demonstration will do. A show of your...unique abilities.” Gnarled fingers gestured for me to continue.

I didn’t have a good answer for that one. “Listen, dude—”

“No demonstration, no information. I think I’ve made my point clear?” Fergus parried. Then smiled once again, revealing an entire row of rotten teeth eerily similar to my grandmother’s smile in my dream.

My insides shivered.

I reminded myself this was part of the process. First came begging, then pleading. Then ass-kicking. Rinse and repeat. No one ever wanted to agree to the terms right off the bat. I’d hoped the mage would be different, seeing as how he’d already done business with York. If he wanted to play hardball...

“We don’t have time for this. What are you after, Fergus?” York growled, his fist slamming down on the table and disturbing the layers of papers there. When I glanced over at York there was dark hair sprouting from his knuckles and his fingertips were yellow and beginning to lengthen. Uh-oh, not good.

We were too close to the full moon.

Fergus wasn’t cowed in the least. “A demonstration,” he maintained without blinking.

I cracked my knuckles, my violet-colored eyes flashing in ire. “Fine. We’ll do it your way. But if you get hurt just remember I warned you.” A smile lifted my cheeks even as it faded toward the edges. “York, you might want to step back for this.”

Sadly, I was used to using physical force when the situation warranted. And normally the situation always warranted. I wanted to believe this situation different from the rest, as York and I weren’t here to hurt anyone. Maybe scare him a little—a little light maiming?—but not seriously hurt.

Fergus had something I wanted: a way into Tartarus. I refused to leave without it.

York and Fergus shared a look and there was apprehension there. I wiped my palms on my pants, towering over one of them and eye level with the other. Intimidation was another thing that came naturally and although it used to be satisfying to watch them shrink away, I wanted today to be different.

I grabbed a chair from behind the table in both hands. Maintaining eye contact with the mage, I took one of the legs and ripped it free, the splinters crumbling into sawdust. I did this for each leg, the seat, the back, until nothing remained but a pile on the floor at my boots.

“Is this enough for you?” I asked, fists going to my hips. “Or do you want more?”

“A mere parlor trick,” he said with a sneer.

Okay, I’d had enough. With a yell I threw both arms down at the floor, and a crater formed just below his feet when the cement cracked. Another yell and I broke through two solid feet, revealing dark brown dirt below.

“The next one is going to be on your head if you don’t tell us what we need to know.”

Fergus clucked his tongue. “A way into the Underworld...the simplest route, of course, would be for you to die. No, maybe not so simple, not for you.”

“How did you...we didn’t tell...” I floundered.

His back bent with age, Fergus hobbled forward and took my hand. I tried not to pull away. “I don’t traffic in parlor tricks. I’m the real deal. When you came through the door, I knew why you were here. Do you understand yet?”

A wave of power pushed out toward me and caused every hair to stand to attention like a soldier in an army. I might not have my parents’ magic, but there was enough of it in my veins to have me recognizing the power he had. The real deal, he’d said. Perhaps. We’d see.

“I’m doubtful of the success of your quest,” Fergus continued.

York stepped forward, making sure to keep his claws at his sides, lest he use them. And make no mistake, they were out. “It’s a favor.”

“I think I’ve done enough favors for you. How’s your blood lust, Quinlin? Getting any better?”

I didn’t like the look on his face. The gleam behind those deep wide eyes and thic glasses.

York didn’t either, if his growl were any indication. “If you set me up, you son of a bitch—”

“Enough!” I swept through the air with my arm. The resounding boom from my voice shook the crater I’d made and caused chunks of concrete to crumble. I stepped forward and grabbed the mage by his shirt, hauling him up, bringing him eye-level. “Do you have a way to find the entrance to Tartarus or not?”

Fergus chuckled lightly. As though I were amusing. Amusing! “Why do you want it, Titan child? Do you want a chance to free old Pops? Right past wrongs?”

I wasn’t sure how he knew about me. I didn’t want to know. I gave him a hard shake. Enough to rattle the bones inside of his body. If I wasn’t careful... “It doesn’t matter why I want it. What matters is the information you have and the information I want. You owe York for what he went through, for whatever deal you made in the past that I’m pretty sure wasn’t held up on your end.” I tightened my grip, fingers creeping toward his neck with the slightest squeeze.

Enough of a threat for him to know I meant business. The games were done.

“I...might have a map somewhere,” the mage hedged. “A map showing the location of the entrance.”

I bent my face low until our noses touched, trying to block out the fetid stench of his breath. “Then I suggest you find it immediately.”

When I released him, Fergus dropped to his knees and scuttled across the room to a chest.

York stepped closer. He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. “I hope we didn’t just make an enemy, Bean.”

“If we did, it’s on me, not you. You’ve paid enough to this man.”

His fingertips brushed mine and we watched the mad mage sort through the chest before he drew out a long sheet of parchment paper tied by a dusty red ribbon.

“This map,” Fergus said, staring over his shoulder at us, “was hard-won. One of the only items I could keep your grandmother from winning in a battle to see who got it first. She had you on her side, which meant she was successful ten times out of ten. But not on this.” He waved the parchment victoriously.

“Why didn’t you mention you know my grandmother?”

“Well, there are some creatures better left buried in the annals of the past.” Fergus shook his head, returning to the chest. He gazed at the contents for a quick moment before snapping the lid closed. “Xanthe being one of them. A demon if I ever saw one...no offense to your lineage. It isn’t a happy one, I daresay.”

“Are you seriously telling me something you think I don’t know?” I replied, lips pursing into a sneer. I held out a hand. “Now, the map.”

Fergus hobbled over with parchment in hand, ready to deliver, then drew it back an instant before my hand connected. “Word of warning. What you’re searching for is a prison. A hell designed specifically for the evils of this world, both mortal and immortal. The journey is not going to be easy, and even if you do make it past Hades’ gates, he isn’t going to just escort you there. Not to mention I have a feeling you’ve upset the Unseelie King.”

With a cold smile, I grabbed the map, hoping the chill that crept along my spine didn’t show on my face. “If you’re worried, then maybe you want to bump up your wards. We walked right through without a problem.”

“I’m not worried about the target you’re painting on me. Merely telling you the facts.”

“Then thank you for your consideration.” I shoved the paper into the back of my pants and drew my jacket over top to cover the bulge. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

“My pleasure entirely, Titan child,” Fergus called out as we turned to leave, punctuating his sentence with a cackle. “Tell your dear old Pops hello for me if you see him. Try not to die first.”

York led the way out, the wall opening enough to allow us passage before snapping closed once more.

We stood alone in the hush of the tunnel, with the drip of water coming from somewhere and enough darkness to make me think we’d already found the Hell we sought.

I thrust a thumb over my shoulder “Whatever his problem is, I don’t want to find out.”

“You see why I didn’t want to involve him?” York asked. “He’s insane. He’d kill us all if he had the opportunity.”

I thought about the map in my waistband. My heart sank. Maybe he just had.