02 Awaken-The Soulkeepers (10 page)

“It doesn’t work like that,” Raph says, keeping his eyes on Michael. “But stick around, if you can. Sophia may be able to help
when she is ready
.”

“No she won’t,” Michael says, pushing away from the wall he’s been leaning against. “She’s not experiencing the Awakening anymore. So if I were you, Firth, I’d get the hell out of here. A hospital morgue isn’t the safest place to hang out. You’re on your own.”

“What’s
with
you?” Raph snaps. “First last night and now this?” He gestures toward me.

“What about last night?” I ask, and the guys fall quiet. I move between them, looking at each one in turn. “What happened last night, Michael?” He won’t answer me and his eyes are locked with Raph’s.

“He almost lost a soul,” Raph says, and I gasp. I can see the truth in Michael’s tight expression.
Why didn’t he tell me?

“He’s gotten careless lately,” Raph continues accusingly. He seems to be purposely inciting Michael’s temper. They’re so mad that I think they’re going to fight, but then they quickly back down and a second later Bailey comes sashaying around the corner.

“Man, you guys are missing the best part,” she says, and then stops and assesses the situation. I look at Colin Firth. He shakes his head. Bailey can’t see him. He walks straight through her, and I give a soft yelp of surprise. Bailey shoots me an odd look. “
What
is going on out here?” she asks and then shivers. “Damn, it’s cold. C’mon, Soph, you’re fine, right?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer but loops her arm through mine and leads me away. I glance over my shoulder at Michael and Raph. I want to know why Michael almost lost a soul last night. And I want to know why I feel that Raph knows exactly what secrets we are keeping.

“You look like a big heap’a douche,” Santiago said, coming to a stop between the two cages that held Dante on his right and Vaughn Raider on his left. He was talking to Dante, whom he’d never really liked, and then turned to Vaughn, the first guy to show him any kind of sympathy when he arrived in Hell. Santiago gripped the bars and peered inside. “You don’t look so hot either.”

Vaughn gave him a loose smile. “Aren’t you a little short for a storm trooper?” Santiago smiled against Vaughn’s light chuckle. “So is that a blow torch in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think to bring …” He grimaced. “I didn’t know if the rumors were true, that Lord Brutus went all apocalyptic on your asses. At least you’re still standing. You wouldn’t believe the shit I’ve stepped over just getting down here. Raw meat hanging off people. Or what used to be called
people
. No offense, but spoiled demon blood stinks like putrid in a can, ya know?”

“We need to get Vaughn out of here,” Dante demanded, stepping into his chains.

“You mean
you
want out!” Santiago turned on him accusingly. He sported the same look he had in Haven Hurst, and flipped the long jagged bangs from his eyes. The tips were bloodred and matched the spiked up ends of the hair in the back. His black Metallica T-shirt looked like a zombie chew toy but seemed better for it. His skinny jeans and multicolored high-tops were splattered with some grime best left unidentified.

“Everybody knows what you did,” he said, snarling. “How you got Wolfgang crucified and how you got Vaughn sent to the Nether Region.”

“Uh, still here, kid.” Vaughn tried to joke but they all knew it was to be their final destination.

“Who said Wolfgang was crucified?” Dante asked suspiciously. He’d heard Wolfgang’s punishment had been severe but no one was sharing the details.

“I got my sources.” Santiago sounded smug and well informed. “They said Wolfgang wasn’t just crucified once, he hit the daily double. At midnight, he’s nailed to crossed beams and impaled with iron hooks. All over. Every inch of him. And the hooks are heated to cauterize the flesh. He’s left simmering in his own blood. And then at high
noon, when he’s good and baked, the hooks are ripped out and the wounds left to fester. Some say he’s dragged through the lava pits, and some say Lord Brutus allows his vultures to peck at the wounds and nibble on his eyeballs. Then at midnight, the party starts again: wash, rinse, and repeat. All because of you.”

“You have your facts wrong,” Dante said evenly, glancing at Vaughn. He wouldn’t allow his guilt to extend beyond Vaughn’s torture; Wolfgang had it coming.

“I’m not here for you, by the way,” Santiago said, glowering at Dante. “I’ll do whatever Vaughn asks because he was nice to me. I’m still pissed about what you did on the surface. What you let happen to Vaughn. He didn’t deserve this.”

“I had more important issues to deal with than your feelings,” Dante said tightly. He wanted to remind the underling that he was speaking to a member of the Royal Court, but since Santiago might be their only hope of escaping, Dante held his temper in check. “My apologies if you were put out. But some of us received more than a tongue lashing and sent to our caverns without supper.” He rustled his chains to mark his point and then nodded toward Vaughn. “He’s in a bad way.”

Santiago gave Vaughn a grim look and murmured, “I figured as much.”

“So, kid, you gonna be the Igor to my Frankenstein?” Vaughn asked, hoarsely.

“Whatta ya think I’m doing down in this shithole?”

“You will have to steal a key from the guards,” Dante said, but Santiago was already digging into his mouth. “What the—”

The Demon Knights watched in disgust as Santiago grabbed a string tied to his tooth and carefully pulled something up from his stomach. He gagged a couple of times but eventually extracted a black key covered in thick yellow stomach acid. He held it up, grinning.

“Eeuuuw!” Dante and Vaughn grimaced.

“Hey, it worked,” Santiago grumbled, disappointed that they weren’t impressed by his ingenuity.

“How did you come by the key?” Dante asked.

“You know how the twins are always dropping things?” Santiago replied.

“Eeuuuw!” they grimaced again.

“You assholes want help or not?” he snapped.

Dante seethed at the insult but Vaughn gave a halfhearted apology. Santiago went to work. After cleaning the key, he opened their cells and unshackled them. In less than five minutes, the Demon Knights were walking free—Dante in a rush and Vaughn not so much. In fact, he was too weak to move on his own, so Dante and Santiago held him up while he dragged his feet.

“You have a plan?” Dante looked over at Santiago struggling under Vaughn’s heavy arm. He couldn’t have sympathy for the kid when his own back was still sizzling from his whippings. Not to mention the stinging chain tattoo burned into his arm.

“Yeah, through here.” Santiago grunted and nodded toward the corner from where he’d come. “I know about Sophia, how you want to go after her.”

Dante didn’t acknowledge anything but wondered who else might know. Was Lord Brutus spreading the word like a plague? Just how many demons or reapers would he send to turn Sophia dark?

“I need a fix or somebody’s gonna lose an arm,” Vaughn said. “Seriously, man, I’m holding back the urge to throw one of you into the wall. Demon’s got the munchies.” When neither one offered themselves, Vaughn shrugged free and pushed Santiago out of reach. He turned to Dante and gestured toward the wall. “Do it.”

“We don’t have time for this. Can you hold off a little longer?”

Vaughn let his eyes answer for him. They were swirling. His demon was rising.

Dante yanked the tattered remains of his shirt from his waistband and threw it aside. Then he fixed his eyes on his friend and prepared himself. “I wish I could say this was going to hurt me more than it hurts you but …”

In one quick movement, Dante grabbed Vaughn and spun him around like throwing a discus. Vaughn sailed across the chamber and smashed into the stone wall. A resounding boom shook the bunker and dust sprinkled down. The stones were crushed around Vaughn’s large frame, and the Demon of Affliction let go a wail of pleasure. Vaughn flopped to the floor with a dreamy smile. “Ahhh.”

What should have broken every bone in his body only caused minor damage, but the pain was pure joy. Vaughn slowly climbed to his feet, yelled a battle cry, and then rammed two fists into the wall. They sank elbow deep, and his head rocked back in satisfaction. He wanted to go again but Dante pulled him away.

“You broke your hands,” he complained, inspecting the damage. They were two black, bloody mounds. “We needed these to get out. How long will it take you to regenerate?”

Vaughn blinked lazily and gave him a sappy grin. “I dunno but I
lack
it,” he slurred, and then snorted.

“Oh, great!” Santiago snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s stoned, and we gotta a long way to go!”

“How long?” Dante asked, still suspicious. He didn’t fully trust the kid’s adoration to Vaughn.

“Too long to stand around bitchin’ about it. C’mon.” He grabbed Vaughn and led
him down the back corridor.

They snuck past three guards playing keep-the-spleen-away-from-the-twins, and then slipped into a dark hallway that rose two levels higher and split into ten different directions. Dante eyed the slimy tunnels critically but Santiago never hesitated. He followed the third from the left, pulling Vaughn along when he veered off distracted.

“Just how long till he’s back to normal?” Santiago muttered, heading down another tunnel.

“He should regain his composure when the effects settle in his system.” Dante grasped Vaughn by the scruff of his neck to keep him moving forward. “Right now he’s swimming in it.”

Santiago paused at the end of the tunnel and peeked around the corner. He pulled back and whispered. “Guards at the end. We gotta wait till they pass.”

“Just where are we going, anyway?”

“You guys are planning to resurface, right? Yeah, I figured. Well, I want in. For real this time. Not just jacking around and watching. I liked it up there. I mean, being dead and in spirit form and all. It was pretty sweet, actually. And I wanna go back.”

He had a confidence that Dante found both amusing and comforting. It meant he and Vaughn weren’t being led into a trap.

“In exchange for what?”

“I’ll give you what you need, and you’ll let me go along.”

“And just what do we need?”

“You’ll see.” He checked around the corner again. “Let’s hit it.”

They snuck across the hall and down a narrow shaft that brought them to another tunnel. They traveled on for thirty minutes in relative silence, constantly changing directions. A stream of murky water ran beneath them, and a new malodorous stench hung in the air, not that there was much air to begin with. It was stifling and getting darker until they rounded the last corner. A circle of light shone from above. There was an opening at the top of a metal ladder attached to the wall.

“C’mon.” Santiago started up the ladder, with Vaughn following and Dante up last. Vaughn fumbled awkwardly but eventually hung on.

“My hands hurt like a sum’bitch,” Vaughn said as he gripped the rungs.

“Happy now?” Dante smirked, and Vaughn laughed and sang, “Hurts So Good” by John Cougar Mellencamp. Dante didn’t get the reference.

Santiago stopped and yelled down at him. “Shut your rat trap! Wanna get us caught?” His agitation only served to amuse Vaughn. He smacked Santiago’s legs, and the kid flailed and kicked him in the head.

Vaughn squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head clear. “Ah, that’s better. Thanks, kid.”

Santiago rolled his eyes. “If you got full bars now, listen up. We’re sneaking in the back way so move aside.” They were still perched on the ladder, halfway up the wall. Dante and Vaughn leaned aside while Santiago swung his leg out so his foot tapped a lever on the opposite wall. A secret door drifted open and he stretched forward, grabbing it. Gaining his balance, he hauled himself across the threshold, stuck the landing, and spread his arms saying, “Tah-dah.” It was pretty clever, a concealed entrance behind anyone climbing up the ladder.

The Demon Knights looked unimpressed, and Santiago smirked. “Well, anyway, the front is always guarded so we’ll hoof it around back.” He stepped aside, allowing them to follow his lead.

Once they had crossed over, a short walk down a dim tunnel brought them to the back entrance. It was a wooden door with no handle, but millions of needles protruded from it. Obviously, no touching was allowed or desired. Santiago pulled out a heavy stone pestle from behind a brick and began pressing imprints into the needles; five round impressions across and two below it.

“What are you doing?” Vaughn asked.

“What’s it look like? I’m knocking.” He inspected the seven indents and then sang out, “Shave and a hair cut, two-bits.” He grinned; they didn’t.

The door opened inward, grating against the stone floor. The Demon Knights cautiously followed Santiago inside.

By all appearances, it was a college dorm room—if
Battlestar Galactica
had exploded inside Hogwarts. Beneath the rough stone ceiling was a twin bed with rumpled
Star Wars
sheets pushed against a stone wall, posters of Einstein sticking out his tongue and Geeks Gone Wild ComicCon 2000, a
Big Bang Theory
’s Friendships Algorithm chart, and a high-gloss rendition of
Star Trek
Emojis, alphabetized.

Shelves were lined with
Game of Thrones
mugs next to a row of shot glasses etched with the four main houses: Stark, Lannister, Targaryen, and Baratheon. This was followed by a collection of intergalactic bobbleheads. A Tardis mini fridge sat in the corner piled with various gadgetry, and a smart can was maneuvering around the floor, hoping to catch any trash thrown in its direction.

Farther to the left, however, was a whirling, flashing conglomeration of flat screens, computer towers, remote cameras, and video and audio devices. At the epicenter of it all sat Julian Wexler, a twenty-two-year-old boy genius and former grad student.

“What the frak? You’re late!” Julian stuffed a cigar stub between his teeth and
thumbed, the remote shutting the door behind the Demon Knights. He wore a black cowboy hat, white boxers, Ewok flip-flops, and a ratty red robe over a T-shirt that said, M
EGABYTE
M
Y
A
SS
!