Chapter 8

Eight

Ihad always felt like a prisoner in my own home; tonight, that was actually true.

The Diaboli had taken over my house… and killed my parents. I had watched my mother die right in front of me, her eyes wide and glassy, that hole burning in her chest. I hadn't seen my father go down, but I knew he had.

I knew Mason had killed him.

But something had happened in my brain, in the time between the killings and now, to numb these facts and push them to the back. I was in fight or flight mode. My entire body felt like a spring trap, ready to snap at a moment's notice. It was honestly the only thing keeping me from collapsing into myself with grief.

My main goal right now was to stay alive.

The Diaboli were here, rooting around in my house, looking for their Infernal Engine. I wasn't strong enough to stop them alone, or fight them off, so all I could do was sit, keep my mouth shut, and consider every word I said and every action I took with deathly seriousness.

The way I figured, the longer I stayed alive, the higher the chances I would be able to find a way out of this and get to Max. Right now, he was the only other surviving member of my family, but he was all alone out there, and that meant I had to get to him as quickly as possible.

Mason Diaboli was somewhere in my house, with a contingent of his men at his back. I didn't know exactly what they were doing, but from the loud bangs echoing around us I could only assume they were tossing furniture around in their search for the vault. Carla, his wife, was sitting across from me in the study. She had a glass in her hand, and inside that glass were a couple of fingers of my father's favorite whiskey. The bottle she had helped herself to a moment ago sat on the small, round table next to her.

Behind her were two men wearing hoods and strange, monstrous masks; behind me, were two others.

I had no idea where Lucien Diaboli had gone. After I'd sent Max and the amulet away, I had been frog marched to the study and tied to a chair. Lucien hadn't even looked at me, I couldn't tell if he was as surprised as I was or just feeling guilty for his part in it. After all, he was the one who stole my amulet, surely he knew what he was doing when he handed it to his murderous father.

I hadn't had a moment to really ruminate over the chain of events that had led me to this very situation—that would have to come much later, assuming I survived. My main focus right now was on making sure I knew how many bad guys there were in my house, and where they were at all times.

Knowledge was power, after all.

Carla set the glass of whiskey down in disgust. "I hate this stuff," she said. "How can anyone drink it?"

I said nothing.

"Your father has poor taste in alcohol. Oh… oops. He had poor taste."

My jaw clenched, my throat worked, but I said nothing. I couldn't. She was going to try to get a rise out of me, but I wasn't going to let her. Instead, I looked at my feet, using my peripheral vision to keep track of my surroundings.

"We're going to find it, you know," said Carla.

I kept my eyes low, choosing not to engage with her. I couldn't. She was fishing for an excuse, trying to justify killing me. It was probably because I had knocked her over, earlier, and ruined her perfect composure. But more likely because of the bruise she now had on her cheek.

You deserved that, and more.

Hurried footsteps turned my attention toward the door to the study. Mason Diaboli came marching back in with his men at his back. He didn't stop to talk to his wife, but stormed directly toward me, my heart instantly surging into my throat as he approached.

"How do you get in?" he barked.

I looked at him, but I couldn't reply.

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me roughly. "Tell me how to get into the vault. Now."

"I don't know how to get into the vault," I said. "I don't even know where it is."

He leaned in close and, through his teeth, hissed "Liar."

As much as I didn't want to admit not knowing where the vault was, or how to get in, as I was sure now that was the only reason I was being kept alive, I didn't think lying was a good idea.

"I'm not lying. My father didn't want us going anywhere near it, so he never told us where it was or how to get in." I could see the rage flaring up in his face, but before he could respond, I continued, perhaps a little more smugly than I should have. "But I'm sure only Ethera magic can open it. So, you need me, alive."

Mason Diaboli clenched his jaw, a large vein popping on his temple before the redness in his face drew back. He signaled to his man to untie me, pulled me up painfully by the arm, then shoved me toward the door ahead of him. "Start walking," he barked.

"I don't know where I'm going."

"Walk!"

So, I walked. Despite my blood pumping hard inside my throat, despite the adrenaline coursing through me, despite everything, I somehow kept my cool and walked calmly out of the study.

Luckily, I wasn't made to walk past the dining room. Instead, Mason pushed me toward the grand staircase, and then underneath it, toward the door to the basement. I didn't have much of a reason to go into the basement most days, so I wasn't exactly sure what to expect.

Boxes, stuff in storage, pipes—maybe the building's power system? I certainly didn't know what I was looking for, or what the vault door even looked like.

"Over here," Mason called out.

He had followed me into the basement, but he had gone right, where I had gone left. When I joined him, he was standing in front of a solid wall of stone with a faint marking around it. There were no lights, no eerie glow, not even a magical hum.

I must have walked past it a million times and not given it a second glance, but staring at the barely visible circle of markings, I knew exactly how to open it. I also knew that Mason was not going to like the answer.

"This is it?" I asked.

"This is it," Mason said. "Now, open it."

"I can't open it."

"You're lying."

"If you really think that, you're going to have to do to me what you did to the rest of my family."

Careful, Beatrice.

"I appreciate your show of inner strength, but that kind of rhetoric is unwarranted. Killing your parents was not part of my plan, if they had just handed over the Engine we'd have left on our merry way, no blood spilled. As long as you do what I ask, you and your brother will live."

I had to choke down the emotions that came bubbling up after that sentence. There was no way they were letting us out of this alive. "Now, who's lying?"

"I could be lying, but your only choice here is to open the vault and hope for the best."

"I already told you; I can't open this door."

"And I think you're trying to protect your family's treasures, but that's a misguided notion. What's more important to you, Ethera trinkets, or your life?"

"You aren't just after my family's heirlooms."

"No. I came here to reclaim what's mine, to take back what was taken from us when we were forced to sign that pathetic peace treaty."

"The Codex Magica."

"Call it whatever you want. In signing that treaty, my family gave up its most potent artifact, the seat of our power! The Engine enabled us to bind the spirits we were born to rule and use in whatever way we saw fit. It's somewhere behind that door, and I want it back. If you don't tell me how to get in, we'll just have to blow a hole in that wall."

I shook my head. "That won't work."

He angled his head to the side. "Won't it? I'm sure I could bring enough explosives to send this place into a different dimension if I wanted to."

"Unless those explosives can get you into the Ether, you aren't getting your engine back."

"The Ether…" he paused, trailing off.

"That's what those markings mean. And I wasn't lying, I can't open it because it's not a door to be opened."

Mason suddenly grabbed me by the neck and pinned me against the wall. "So, what you're telling me is the amulet you gave to your brother is the only way into that vault," he breathed against my face.

Shit.

I was hoping he wouldn't make the connection, but I'd just put Max in danger, and myself in even more.

Mason's red eyes darkened. "Where is your brother?" he snarled.

"I don't know!" My mind rushed through every possible thing I could say to fix this, to make sure he didn't just snap my neck and go searching for Max.

"Liar."

"I gave him the amulet and sent him away. He could be anywhere right now."

"But he's not anywhere. He's somewhere—a safe house, or something. Somewhere he was told to go in case of emergencies." His hand tightened around my throat. "Where is he?"

"I… don't… know," I choked.

"Open it!" he barked.

There was a moment, an instant, where I felt like an opportunity had presented itself. I felt my own power surge inside of me, my magic begging to be released. Mason was behind me, but I could tell he was enraged; hopefully too enraged to notice if I decided to turn my power on him instead of directing it at the wall like he was hoping.

His men were standing by the foot of the stairs. I knew, if I did anything to Mason, if I managed to injure him—or even kill him—my life would be over an instant later. I had chosen fight, though, and my instinct to attack him, to take him down, to avenge my parents, was strong.

So strong.

I felt like I came close to making that decision before reason won the day, and I stood down. There was nothing I could do to the vault door, and if I turned my magic on Mason… well, I didn't want to die. Killing him wasn't worth it if it meant I was going to follow him into the grave only a few seconds later.

"I can't do it," I finally said. "I don't have the amulet."

Mason shoved my cheek against the cold, stone wall. "Then I really don't need you anymore, do I?"

"Max doesn't know how to use the amulet," I groaned, "you still need me."

Mason's grip loosened, but only slightly. "We used the amulet to get into your house, what makes you think we need you now?" he said against my ear.

"Because there are protections in the vault. Anyone who's not an Ethera won't get out alive."

I honestly had no idea if that was true or not, but I could only hope he believed me.

"Listen very closely, Ethera. You're going to help me find your brother, we're going to get that amulet, and when we do, you're going to retrieve our Infernal Engine."

"And then you'll kill us both."

"Serve us well, and you may just have a place in our family."

"I'd rather die," I spat.

"The decision, as they say, is yours."

I wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove my aunt Persephone's amulet, but I bit my tongue. A moment later, he released me. I watched him walk over to the stairs, turn around, and glance over in my direction.

"Take her," he said to his men. "We're going home, and she's coming with us."

Diaboli's men closed in on me. I didn't have much of a choice but to comply, to do as I was told, to allow them to cart me out of my own house and throw me into the trunk of the car the family had come in on.

The last thing I saw as the trunk closed was the mask of the man who had thrown me in there.

When the trunk door closed, the tears came.