Chapter 5

On my way to Northbourne, I summoned Malcolm, who was spending his evening with Liam at Moses's haunted mansion. I wanted backup for my meeting with Valas.

I gave the ghost's trace in my mind two gentle tugs, a signal I needed him to jump to me but it wasn't an emergency. About a minute later, the blue crystal on my new bracelet buzzed. I touched it. " Release ."

Malcolm appeared in the passenger seat area. He took one look at my face and flitted in place. "What the hell happened at your meeting with Vaughan?" he demanded. "You look mad enough to knock a satellite out of orbit with your glare alone. Did he deny he's been messing with your head?"

I flexed my aching fingers, loosening my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. "At first he denied it, of course. Then he admitted that's exactly what he's been doing, and Valas knew and approved of it. And he knew there was no weapons deal at the mansion that night, but he lied to me so we'd walk into Moses's trap."

Malcolm let out a string of creative expletives. My ghost didn't swear much, but when he did, he could scandalize a sailor.

But when I told him what Sean had said about having once wanted to turn a mage to be his mate, Malcolm was silent for a long time.

"Are you okay?" he asked finally, then snorted. "That's a dumb question; of course you aren't okay. Are you going to be okay?"

"About what Sean told me, yes, eventually. I obviously wish he'd told me sooner so I didn't have to hear about it like this, but it's not like I've told him everything I've said and done—not even close. So who the hell am I to hold it against him that he didn't tell me every last thing about himself?"

"You can still be angry about it, even though you're still keeping secrets," he pointed out.

"I know. I'm not angry, though—just a bit blindsided, and annoyed that I had to hear it in front of Charles, who was probably hoping I'd dump Sean on the spot."

"No doubt he was," Malcolm said with a scowl. "I guess he doesn't know you quite as well as he thought he did."

"I guess not. Sean said he wouldn't have ever changed anyone who wasn't willing, and I believe him. We're going to talk about it when I get home, after you and I meet with Valas."

"And what about Vaughan's meddling? How are you dealing with that?" He read my expression. "Not well, I see."

"Not well at all, but at least I didn't do anything rash like lop off one of his appendages or burn down his house." I cleared my throat. "Not that I thought about it, of course."

"Of course," Malcolm said dryly. "You probably also didn't almost cut off his head."

I coughed.

"Or smash a couple bottles of his fancy whisky."

I sucked in a breath. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"

He chuckled. "Good to know there's a line you won't cross." His smile faded. "I'm sorry he's such a bastard, but I'm glad you know the truth."

"Me too." I turned the radio volume up. "Anyway, we're headed for Northbourne to meet with Valas about that errand she wants me to go on. Sorry to interrupt date night."

"No worries. Ghosts are laid back about that sort of thing."

"You and Liam are pretty smitten with each other, though, huh?"

He gave me a look. "I like the guy, yes. We have a lot in common, besides being dead."

"Such as?"

"We're both snappy dressers, and we're both funny as hell."

I laughed. My heart still felt bruised, but as usual, Malcolm dragged me back from the edge of gloom.

I glanced at him. "I love you, you know."

"Don't get sappy, Alice," he said, but he was smiling. He loved me too.

I looked ahead toward Northbourne's gate and sighed. "Lots of protestors here tonight. You'd think they'd get tired of waving signs and yelling."

"Some people always seem to find energy for hate," Malcolm said.

Protestors frequently gathered in front of Northbourne's gate these days. Anti-supe demonstrations were rare in the city when I'd moved here, but ever since the West-Addison Harnad murders, they were regular occurrences—and they were getting larger and more violent. People were angry at vampires and mages. Hate groups like Human Future and the Daylighters fanned the flames constantly. With the rise of several prominent anti-supe politicians and attacks by domestic terrorist groups against supes, things looked to get worse.

I turned into the drive. The protestors moved aside, since by law they couldn't block the driveway. Several yelled insults and one spat on my windshield. Lovely.

A group of black-clad Court enforcers converged on the gate to ensure none of the protestors attempted to enter the grounds of the estate. The metal barricades in front of my SUV retracted into the ground.

As the gate rolled aside, it occurred to me there was no way Charles had confessed to meddling with my thoughts without Valas's permission. That meant she'd either ordered him to tell the truth when we demanded it, or she'd planned on this happening and already told him to do so. She'd also allowed me to be taken by Mira? and tortured, and then manipulated me into killing him so I would absorb his power. Why she'd wanted me to do so, I wasn't exactly sure, but it had to have been for her benefit. It sure as hell wasn't for mine.

I was so tired of dancing on the end of Valas's strings.

"I'm done with the vampires after this," I told Malcolm as I drove past the gate and headed up the quarter-mile winding driveway that led to the estate. I used my wipers and washer fluid to clean the protestor's spit off my windshield. "Once I fulfill my obligation to Valas, I'm done. No more cases, no more favors."

"Easier said than done, especially when you're still bound to Valas by her bite. And you know they're not going to let you go without a hell of a fight." Malcolm looked grim. "If you want out, you know I've got your back, but it's going to be an uphill climb and they're going to be dicks about it the whole way."

I rounded a curve and the enormous mansion came into view in front of us. A half-dozen black Court SUVs were parked out front. Enforcers patrolled the grounds, alert for any signs of trouble. The recent uptick in violence against supes had everyone on edge.

"If they want to play rough, I can play rough," I said as I parked to the right of the wide front steps.

"They won't just target you," he reminded me. "Like Moses, they'll have no hesitation about going after those around you. I'm not trying to talk you out of it, but they'll go to war if they think it's necessary."

I glanced up at the mansion and turned off the ignition. "So will we, Malcolm. If it's war they want, it's war they'll get."

I was met at Northbourne's front door by an enforcer I knew. Carlos Rodriguez and I met during the first case I'd ever worked for the Court, when I was still an apprentice mage PI working for my mentor Mark Dunlap. We crossed the enormous lobby. Malcolm floated at my side, on high alert.

"How are you, Carlos?" I asked.

"I'm well, thank you," he told me. "We're going downstairs."

I'd expected to be escorted to Valas's audience chamber. "I thought I was meeting with Valas."

"You are." He led me down the hall to a wide stairwell. "She awaits you in one of the workshops."

I disliked venturing into the sub-levels beneath Northbourne. Being underground made me antsy. I was also surprised Valas was downstairs; I got the impression she rarely left her suite unless the Court was in session in one of the courtrooms. With my status as Sean's partner, Malcolm at my side, my wolf on high alert, and the amount of magic I had running through me, I felt quite certain I could protect myself if Valas's intentions weren't what they seemed, and get out of Northbourne if push came to shove. Still, there'd better be a damn good reason for meeting in the basement.

We followed Carlos down to sub-level one. He placed his palm on the scanner beside the double doors that led to the magic workshop area. The doors unlocked and Carlos held one open for me. "After you, Ms. Worth."

Our little group walked down a long concrete hallway, passing doors I knew led to workshops used by mages, witches, and practitioners of other kinds of magic. One was marked with an inverted pentagram beside the door. I hurried past it. I'd faced black witches twice in that room, and none of those memories were pleasant.

Carlos led us to a set of unmarked doors near the end of the hall. The wards on the room sizzled on my skin.

"Damn," Malcolm said, clearly impressed. "Heavy-duty containment wards and a bunch of Gandalf wards too." Gandalf wards were what Malcolm called wards designed not to let anything through—as in You shall not pass . "Whatever's in there, they don't want anyone getting near it, or anything getting out."

I had a pretty good idea what was in that room. It was priceless, and quite possibly the most dangerous object in the building. And it was meant for me. Hooray.

The doors opened, revealing Matthias. I could see almost nothing of the room beyond, which was large and dimly lit. "Ms. Worth, welcome," he said, sounding very formal. "Madame Valas awaits you." He used two fingers to draw a rune on the wall near the doors and the wards formed a doorway.

I stepped inside with Malcolm right behind me. Carlos stayed in the corridor. Matthias closed the doors and the wards flared again.

The room was almost as large as Valas's audience chamber, but without its high vaulted ceiling. My senses tingled, alerting me that a lot of magic had been used in this room, including unfamiliar forms of occult magic and blood magic too. We were in a dark magic multi-purpose room, apparently, with embedded containment and perimeter wards for containing and protecting people and things kept inside.

A dozen large candelabras illuminated the middle of the room, leaving the rest in darkness. In the center of a wide stone circle inlaid in the floor was a tall, thin object covered with a red silk sheet: the mirror Valas had obtained from Elizabeth, the head of the Chicago Vampire Court.

Glyphs and runes filled the stone circle. Some were mage spells; the other spellwork was more ancient and invoked dark power. They could be the work of a sorcerer. Maybe Valas's own handiwork? I'd never seen her do spellwork, but I had no doubt she could.

Something moved in the shadows to my right—something almost human-shaped, but not quite. My nose twitched at the all-too-familiar odor of burned paper and a dozen other exotic scents, many of them unpleasant. Dark magic slithered around me. Malcolm flitted in consternation.

I glanced again at the glyphs in the circle. Not the work of a sorcerer, but a vampire warlock—one I'd met recently and had hoped not to meet again.

"You owe me for the damages to the deck on my new house," I told the creature in the shadows.

Vlad laughed. The sound made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Malcolm shuddered as the laugh became a low hiss and then faded.

"Thank you for attending me this evening." Valas's voice came from behind me.

Keeping my eyes on Vlad's shadow, I said, "Why am I here?"

She appeared out of the darkness and glided soundlessly across the floor to a chair facing the stone circle. She wore a floor-length midnight-blue dress and a ruby pendant, the signature color of her Court. Her long, dark hair hung loose to her waist, like a cape.

A second person emerged from the shadows. Despite my unease about Vlad's presence and the purpose for the meeting, I smiled. "Adam!"

Adam March, a psychic and Seer who had worked for the Court most of his life, had helped me during my investigation into the West-Addison Harnad.

He returned my smile, but his was brief. "Hi, Alice. It's good to see you." He looked at Malcolm. "Hello."

Startled, Malcolm blinked. He wasn't used to anyone addressing him directly, or even knowing he was present. After a moment, he waved. "Uh, hi."

"You are here because your errand , as you call it, has become urgent," Valas said. She settled into the chair. Adam and Matthias stood on either side of her.

"How urgent?"

"You must prepare to travel immediately. From what Mr. March has seen, we have no time to waste."

I took a deep breath and let it out. For months I'd waited for this moment, and now that it was here, I was strangely relieved. "Tell me everything."

Matthias handed me a red file folder. Since he was going with me, Malcolm read over my shoulder.

The first few pages were from a Court employee dossier for a woman named Mariela Diakos. Mariela was forty-one and athletic. The file contained her official Court identification photographs: one from the front, one from the side, like mugshots. She had short dark hair, dark brown eyes, and an intense stare. The file also included photos of several tattoos. They were intricate, beautiful, and no doubt as magically enhanced as my own.

I read through the information that wasn't redacted. "High-level blood and earth mage," I mused. "An employee of the Court for ten years. Formerly employed by the Bell Cabal." I glanced up at Valas. "Sold to the Court?"

"In return for a debt," Valas said. "That has no bearing on the current situation."

The fact Mariela had been sold to settle a debt, and Valas thought that was a perfectly normal sort of transaction, told me a lot about both of them. Mariela likely had no loyalty to the Court, and I didn't blame her. People weren't for buying and selling, despite what Valas, Moses, and their ilk might believe. Someday, I hoped to prove it to them.

I read on. The dossier didn't contain many details about Mariela's duties as a mage working for the Court, but several reports assessed her powers and abilities. She had impressive skill with spellwork, including wards and blood magic.

I looked up. "So this is who stole your doohickey?"

Valas gave me an almost imperceptible nod. "She was a trusted employee. This betrayal is most infuriating." Her eyes glowed.

I flipped through the rest of the file. "There's nothing in here about what she took or why she took it."

"That information is highly confidential. I do not entrust it to many." Her fingers tightened on the arms of her chair. "What do you know of the Book of Thoth?"

I frowned. "The real one, or the legend?"

A tiny smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "As you know, nothing is ever as simple as ‘real' or ‘legendary.' In ancient Egypt, Thoth was god of knowledge and writing. The Book of Thoth has referred to many texts over the millennia—some thought to have been written by Thoth himself, and others written about him. One such work, which exists today in fragments held by various museums around the world, references the so-called Writings of the House of Darkness."

"I've heard of the Writings of the House of Darkness. The phrase House of Darkness was thought to refer to the realms of the dead, as I recall. No one is sure if the Writings ever truly existed, as far as I know."

Valas folded her hands in her lap, her elbows on the arms of the chair. "The Writings of the House of Darkness are thirteen scrolls. Each contains funerary rites, rituals, incantations and spells regarding death and the Underworld, and invocations for various old gods. Because together they contain enough knowledge to bring an end to all life on Earth, the scrolls were spelled by their creators so no more than two could ever be in the same place at the same time, or even within a hundred leagues of each other."

"Wait—the Writings are real?" Realization dawned. "You had one of the scrolls and Mariela stole it?"

"Indeed." Visibly angry, Valas started to rise. Instead, she settled back into her chair. I suddenly wondered why she was sitting down while the rest of us stood. As head of the Court, it was certainly her privilege to do so, but I suspected there was more to it.

"Two scrolls were in the possession of the Court of Constantinople," Valas said. "When Crusaders sacked the city in the thirteenth century, many who would have been captured for torture were forced to flee. Some chose to take priceless artifacts from the Court vaults, to preserve them from destruction or looting."

"So you took a scroll, along with a few other items," I guessed. "Why the scroll, though?"

"For its spells, naturally." Her voice was crisp. "It is one of my most valued personal possessions, a treasure that reminds me of my homeland."

"How did Mariela get hold of it?"

Her expression darkened. "Through a lapse in security, which has since been addressed."

Behind me, from the shadows, Vlad hissed.

That was obviously all I was going to get in answer to that question, so I moved on to more pressing issues. "Why did she take it? And why did she take it through a mirror?"

At Valas's nod, Adam spoke. "That we weren't sure of until very recently. At Madame Valas's request, I've been attempting to ascertain Mariela's location and intentions, but it's damn hard to See things that far away. She's been using spells to hide herself. Last night, however, I finally received a vision."

"What did you see?" I asked.

"He will show you," Valas said.

I recoiled. I remembered all too well what happened the last time I'd shared one of Adam's visions. "No, thanks. You can describe it."

"You will not be harmed," she snapped. "I have little patience for your timidity today."

"Hey, screw you, vampire," Malcolm said hotly before I could reply. "She almost died of a brain hemorrhage last time. She's entitled to be cautious."

Valas's eyes glowed silver. "You will keep a civil tongue, or you will find yourself elsewhere."

I stepped between them. "Don't threaten him, Valas. If you've got something you want to show me, then do it, but take it easy on my brain. I'm not psychic, and I've recently had all my memories ripped out and then stuffed back in. If you scramble my egg, I won't be going on any recovery mission for you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Very well. Stand before me."

Letting her touch me, let alone share a vision, was the last thing I wanted. I might learn something from it I could use against her, however, and we needed to know what we were going up against.

I joined Adam beside Valas's chair. She wrapped her cold fingers around my wrist. The room around us plunged into darkness, and I fell into the void.

I stood knee-deep in bloody corpses. The stench of death was nearly unbearable.

Thousands of bodies, young and old, male and female, lay piled around me. All had horrible gaping wounds in their chests where their hearts had once been.

As if the scene wasn't bad enough, from somewhere among the corpses, I heard the nauseating sound of something gorging itself, chewing with unmistakable gusto on what I assumed was the missing hearts.

In the distance, three shadows pursued a group of fleeing victims, leaving a wide path of bloody bodies in their wake. The screams of the dying split the air.

Scattered among the bodies around me were blood-splattered banners and signs, all bearing anti-supe and anti-magic slogans. I recognized the T-shirts worn by many of the dead as belonging to anti-supe hate groups like the Daylighters and Humans First. I also saw police in uniform, their chests torn open and hearts missing. The slaughter had been indiscriminate.

I was standing in the middle of a massacre.

A woman spoke. "Justice for Ellie."

I turned.

Mariela Diakos stood behind me. She extended her arms to indicate the bodies. "Justice for Ellie," she repeated, and smiled.

A black snake coiled around her right arm, its body marked with red glyphs. Small wings protruded from its back. In her left hand, she held a cup of what looked like honey.

Mariela raised her arm to look the snake in its red eyes. "Glen Grove," she said, as if invoking a curse. Her eyes glowed with blood magic and something else—some other, much older magic.

The snake raised its head and hissed. In the distance, the three shadows headed back toward us, their eyes silver and wings outstretched.

"Justice and vengeance," Mariela whispered. The words were a curse and a promise.

The darkness receded, taking with it the stench of decaying bodies and the screams of the dying.

I found myself back in the magic workshop in sub-level one, more or less still standing beside Valas's chair. The "less" part was that Matthias was behind me, gripping my upper arms. Judging by the ache, he'd caught me before I fell and had been holding me up for a while.

"Thanks," I told him. My ears rang and it took effort to focus.

Malcolm floated in front of me. "You okay?"

My legs felt rubbery, but I nodded. "I think so."

Matthias released my arms. I stayed upright without leaning against him or Valas's chair. Yay, me.

"You saw the slaughter?" Valas asked, her tone impatient, as if annoyed by my disorientation. She'd rarely been so short with me. Was her mood a result of Mariela's theft, or something else?

"Yes, I saw it." I turned to Adam. "What's the deal with the snake and the three shadows? And what the hell was feasting on all those hearts?"

Malcolm's eyes were like saucers. "Feasting on hearts? "

"I'm not sure what was eating the hearts," Adam admitted. "But I believe the three shadows are the Erinyes."

"The Erinyes?" I knew that name from somewhere, but it took a minute for it to click. I stared at him. "As in the Furies? The Furies?"

"I'm afraid so." Adam folded his hands behind his back, a habit many touch clairvoyants developed to avoid accidental skin contact. "Infernal goddesses of vengeance, more ancient than almost any of the old gods. The black serpent is their symbol."

"And the fact she has the snake wrapped around her arm signifies she's bound them, or she's invoked them?"

"That's how I read it," he said. "The snake for the binding and the cup of honey as an offering."

Malcolm muttered a few choice curse words.

"So she wants to unleash the Furies on anti-supe hate groups?" I asked. "Other than on principle, why?"

Adam's expression darkened. "Glen Grove."

I recalled Mariela mentioning the incident. "She lost someone?"

"She lost her brother, sister-in-law, and their little girl Ellie."

I swore. No wonder Mariela was angry enough to invoke the Furies.

"What's Glen Grove?" Malcolm asked.

"About a year ago, a group of anti-supe domestic terrorists targeted a party in Glen Grove," I explained. "The party was hosted by a man named Colin Carr. Carr was a mage and active in organizations that work to protect the rights of supes and mages. He had a reception to celebrate a federal appeals court victory. Someone put two pipe bombs in the reception hall. The explosions killed fifteen people, including Carr and his wife, and wounded several dozen. All of the victims were mages. No one claimed responsibility for the bombing, but Carr had received numerous threats."

Malcolm flitted. "That's horrible. Was anyone arrested?"

"One guy," Adam told him. "A member of a fringe ‘human rights' group. His lawyers say he's mentally ill. The feds claim he acted alone, but a lot of people suspect there were others involved and the guy they arrested is taking the fall for the lot of them."

"So this Mariela wants justice for her family, and she's bringing in the big guns." Malcolm shook his head. "I gotta say, I'm not unsympathetic."

"I'm sympathetic too, but there were piles of corpses," I said. "Men, women, even kids. Something ate their hearts. She wants to unleash three chthonic deities and the heart-eater and kill everyone who gets in the way."

"What are chthonic deities?" he asked.

"Gods of the Underworld. They tend to like human sacrifices and inspire cult-like devotion." I turned to Valas. "So, my mission is to stop Mariela from unleashing the Furies, drag her back here, and return your scroll?"

"You must bring me the scroll and stop her from invoking the Furies," Valas replied. "If you determine bringing Mariela back is too difficult or impractical, you may bring me proof of her death."

"I'm not one of your henchmen, Valas. I'll bring her back and she can get a fair trial before the Court." I rubbed my face. "Okay, now we know what she's trying to do and why. Why did she need your scroll, and why did she go through a mirror to use it?"

"The scroll contains dangerous arcane knowledge and hundreds of spells, incantations, and rituals. Among them are instructions for opening a door to the Underworld and traversing that realm in relative safety. Burial chambers can be used as doorways, acting as conduits between the mundane world and the Underworld."

Malcolm and I exchanged a glance. "Did Mariela use your first mirror to get to the Underworld?" I asked.

"No," Valas said. "In our world, the boundaries between realms are not easily traversed, even with the magic of the scroll. Someone wishing to venture into the Underworld, locate the Furies, and invoke them faces a nearly impossible task. The old gods and goddesses reside very deep within the darkest parts of the Underworld, where our voices no longer reach, and where they may more easily ignore the thrashing about of humans." She paused. "The same is not true of all worlds, however."

My throat went suddenly very dry. "Are you telling me you're sending me through that mirror not just to another realm, but to another world? "

"Sending us ," Malcolm interjected.

"I call it the Broken World," Adam told me. "But don't let the name fool you—it's actually pretty terrible."

Fantastic.