Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

B efore the hounds can get anywhere near me, Jonah darts between them and me.

I'm surprised by the level of anger in his voice.

"Think carefully before you make another move," he says.

While the hounds slow their approach, Halle scoffs. "Jonah, dear, you know as well as I do that you can't burn me to ash."

Shortly before we went to the church, Jonah was Halle's prisoner. She captured him because she thought he would be able to tell her where her brother, James, was.

He probably can. But he didn't.

If I look carefully, I can still see the wound at the side of his face where Halle must have taken out her feelings on him earlier. She has the ability to leave scars where other supernaturals can't. And because her true form consists of ash, he can't burn her.

The expression on his face when he glances back at me tells me he's less-than-impressed to be facing Halle again. But he doesn't appear deterred.

Jonah has ice-blond hair and amber eyes that blaze with determination. His skin is fair, his shoulders are broad, and his physique is muscular.

"I may not be able to burn you, Hel, but I can certainly hurt your hounds," he snarls back at Halle. "I hope you're not attached to them."

With that, the heat radiating from Jonah's body increases rapidly, becoming so hot that it suddenly feels like we're back on the beach and standing under a scorching sun.

The lava lines on the hounds' chests pale in comparison. They draw to an abrupt halt, faltering between Halle and Jonah, and glancing back at Halle—no doubt for instructions.

Her brow is deeply furrowed. "Do not threaten my hounds, Jonah."

"Don't threaten Veda," he snaps.

"Threaten?" Halle stiffens, drawing herself further upright. " You're the one putting her in danger! The longer we linger at the cusp of hell, the greater the risk."

It's Jonah's turn to falter.

Halle takes another look at him, and then at me. "Oh, dear," she says. "It seems we've had a misunderstanding."

"I don't think we have," I snarl. "You're trying to cage me and I won't go down without a fight."

She splutters. "Cage you? I would never!"

Jonah appears as confused as I am.

Did I not understand her correctly? Is my lack of experience with the world getting in my way again?

I don't think so, because my pack reacted with the same alarm that I did—and Jonah certainly got mad about it.

I narrow my eyes at her. "You said ‘captivity.' I don't see how that can be misinterpreted."

"No," she says firmly. "I said custody . There's a difference."

I scowl at her. "If there is, I don't see it."

"Custody," she snaps. "Protective custody."

"Protective…?" I arch my eyebrows at her. "I'm supposed to believe that your intention in seizing me is to protect me?"

She presses her lips together. "Well, maybe I'm a little rusty on the whole godmothering thing, but yes."

I latch on to the most absurd part of what she said. "Godmother?"

She beams at me. Then her smile wobbles. "Well, I would have been. It's what your mother wanted."

I scowl at Halle, since I only have her word for it. I risk retracting my claws to rub my eyes. "Let me get this straight. You want to take me into protective custody… by escorting me forcibly into the bowels of hell?"

I peer past her into the darkness of the long tunnel that stretches ahead of us.

"Well… yes," she says with a bright smile, as if there's nothing wrong with that. "It's the safest place for you to be right now."

Each of the hounds nods with a sincerity that makes me blink at them.

I find myself wondering if they can talk. Not likely with those heads.

"So you claim," I say to Halle. "But I can't trust you."

She sniffs. "Well, you should trust me. Your mother did."

"Again, so you claim." A heavy exhale rests on my lips, defeat pushing its way through my thoughts.

I try to recall the way my mother spoke about Halle. What I do remember is the way my mother would smile softly and tell me that the gods make mysterious moves and that they are not for us to question.

I wonder now if she was telling me to take Halle's word at face value. To follow her mysterious—or in this case, fucking clumsy—moves and not question them.

The trouble is that I don't really have a choice.

I have no way of leaving this place without Emil's help and, once again, I'm faced with the reality that it was his decision to bring me here in the first place.

I'm not certain that I could convince him to take me somewhere else.

In fact… I have no idea how much control I actually have over him anymore.

It's a question that burns me and I vow to find out the answer, but for now, I need to tackle the dilemma directly in front of me: the Goddess of the Underworld and her backward attempts to ‘protect' me.

Ahead of me, Halle bounces on the balls of her feet, her high heels clacking against the black stone. An impatient sound. "I really would prefer if you make up your mind quickly, Veda," she says. "It isn't safe to stay here much longer. The mouth of hell is its most vulnerable point."

Again, so she says.

Although this time, Jonah gives me a short nod, as if to indicate that Halle's telling the truth. As a jotunn, he is as old as Halle and would have spent his youth surrounded by old gods. It's possible he has more knowledge of this place than any other member of my pack—even the keeper.

But if this spot is hell's most vulnerable location, then that probably means it's also the only place from which I could launch a successful escape.

Right now, I might prefer to take my chances with the snowstorm raging outside—if, indeed, it is a snowstorm.

"Answer me this," I say to Halle, my voice harsh. "You said you were trying to get my mother to safety before she was imprisoned."

Halle nods. "I was. And your question is…?"

There's a growl in my voice. "How am I supposed to believe that you didn't deliberately take her into danger?"

Halle immediately stiffens and a flush crosses her light-brown cheeks. "Because Galeia was a daughter to me!" she snaps. "Because she called me ‘Mother'. And I called her ‘Daughter'."

A powerful relationship.

"I would never betray her," Halle continues with such force that her voice echoes around us with a hint of the magic she controls.

I want to believe her. I really do.

But my father taught me the meaning of distrust and Emil has only deepened it.

"If you'd succeeded," I continue, quietly this time, "what would my mother's life have looked like?"

As I speak, my eyes burn with unexpected tears. I fight them, refusing to shed them because I can't allow myself to wallow in the what-ifs of how different my life could have been. Even if I need an answer to my question.

Some of the anger fades from Halle's expression. "I was taking Galeia west," she says. "If I could have trusted any warlock at the time, I would have paid to transport us there in an instant, but we couldn't trust anyone."

"Why west?" I ask.

"There's a place in Portland," she replies. "A supernatural shelter where women can be safe from those who mean them harm. Your father would never have been able to find Galeia there, let alone hurt her. That place is protected by the most powerful of old magic. Even I can't breach its walls."

Halle pauses to take a deep, shaky breath, her voice straining as she finishes. "You would have been born in a safe place, where you could have thrived."

"That sounds like rainbows and sunflowers," I say, wrinkling my nose. "Even if such a place existed, they never would have helped a dark creature like my mother."

"It was certainly a risk," Halle says, with an acknowledging nod. "But Galeia was adamant that they wouldn't turn her away. She wouldn't tell me why, but now I understand. In fact…"

She takes a step forward before she stops again, her eyes wide. "They couldn't have denied her even if they wanted to. Not while she was carrying you."

Her focus switches disconcertingly to the keeper, and there's a question in her eyes.

His voice sounds from close behind my left shoulder. "Veda's mother didn't tell her anything."

"I can see that," Halle snaps. "Or Veda never would have torn through the book." She rubs her eyes. "Oh, but Galeia didn't warn me, either… The secrets she kept… Darkest of saints."

I've had enough of their cryptic conversation. "Stop!" I snap. "Both of you."

I have no explanation for their conversation. I don't know why Halle was so alarmed to see the face Emil's wearing or why the state of the book has worried her so much.

As far as I'm concerned, it's a good thing the book seems as dead as a book like that could get.

"It's clear I need answers," I say. "But it's also clear I won't be able to trust the answers either of you give me."

"I might have a solution for that." Halle edges closer to me, now within striking distance of Jonah, who is only a few paces in front of me and to my right. "You don't trust me. I don't blame you. But I find myself recalling an accusation you leveled at me when we first fought each other."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask, a little thrown.

"I told you I would never betray your mother. And you said to me… Let me make sure I get this right…" She tips her head as if she's thinking hard. "You said, ‘My mother died in that prison, gasping for breath. Nobody came for her, and for that…'" Halle pauses, her lips pressing together for a moment. "Well, you promised I would pay."

I nod. "Where are you going with this?"

And what does this have to do with a solution to our trust issue?

She gives me a grim smile. "Just last night, when we fought for the second time, you led me to believe that you didn't know what happened to your mother. You claimed to have been separated from her during your imprisonment."

"Yeah." I can't stop my sigh. "After we fought the first time, I became convinced that the woman imprisoned with me was not my biological mother, after all. So it wasn't a lie. Not within the context of what I thought I knew at the time."

My forehead creases as I try to explain, but Halle's smile softens.

"I sense you have a story to tell, Veda," she says. "And you must have many questions for me. But, you see, we're at the edge of the Underworld, where all power and deceit are stripped away and everyone's lies are exposed. It is the nature of hell to make us vulnerable to our own darkness."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Please step into the Underworld with me," she says. "It's one of the few places your father will hesitate to follow you, and there are safe spaces within the rings of hell where he won't be able to reach you at all. I can protect you here. And, if you're willing, there is a place within the Underworld—one of the deepest places—where I, too, will be forced to speak only the truth. You can have your answers there."

It isn't lost on me that if such a place exists, and if it can force Halle—an old god—to tell the truth, then no doubt I will have to tell the truth, too.

What a dangerous thing.

To swap truths.

Halle considers me carefully. "I will pay the price you wish me to pay for failing Galeia," she says. "I will pay it by giving you all the truths you clearly need, even if it could hurt me."

She holds her hand out to me. "Will you come with me?"