(Skeleton Key) Princess of the Damned (15 page)

L
ANDON HADN'T BEEN PREPARED
to see Eiress covered in blood, hair disheveled and no hope in her face. It sent him reeling, and the sight of her little Kaida broken and bandaged in her arms hurt his heart. Thankfully, her mom stepped up and saved the day while Landon wrestled to get his emotions under control. While Eiress checked Kaida's bandages and reported on his condition, Landon asked her mother, "What do we do next?"

The ghost touched the mirror. Her entire presence shook with the effort to be seen. He could tell her energy was fading fast, but he still needed her help. "I know we're doing this for Eiress. But I need to know how to find—"

"Look."

The simple command held a trace of annoyance, and Landon quickly looked to the mirror, lest he be reprimanded by a ghost.

That's one thought he'd never imagined having.

Mary was in the mirror.

Well, Mary wasn't in the mirror; she was clearly on his side of it, but her reflection showed Landon where she was, and who she was with.

He didn't like what he saw.

She was still in the area, which wasn't surprising. She'd been dead for almost five hundred years, and public transportation hadn't been then what it was now. She was in what looked to be the subway, but in the tunnels, not the waiting area. Her hands were covered in blood and she licked each finger in ecstasy. And she was surrounded by people. Landon didn't have to read souls like Eiress could to know that those worshiping her now were the souls she and Elizabeth had sent back to life. Somehow, she'd called them to her, and they were happy to do her bidding.

Landon swore.

The ghost shimmered next to him, and he wasn't sure if it was an agreeable shimmer, or an offended one. Either way, his mother had always told him never to swear in front of his elders, and he ducked his head in shame. "How are we going to stop her?"

Eiress looked into the mirror, almost like she'd heard him, but she said nothing. Her mother was also silent, but Landon didn't know if that was because she had no suggestions, or if she just lacked the energy to tell him.

Landon ran his unbroken hand through his hair, leaving it disheveled enough that he looked like a mad scientist. "I can call the cops. They told me to let them do their jobs. I just need to know…" He turned back to the mirror and scanned the scene again, recoiling in horror when he saw the two half-devoured homeless people off to the side. He'd missed them before. Swallowing hard, he averted his eyes and searched the rest of the tunnel for anything that would tell him where they were.

There were signs and graffiti all through the tunnels. There was a lot of cursing, colorful swearwords and works of art that belonged in a museum, not on subway tunnels. And there, with a big arrow pointing up, was the name of a business. "Free Soup."

Landon knew only one business in the city that gave the homeless soup. Digging the cop's card out of his pocket yet again, he dialed the number and listened to it ring.

"Devons."

"This is Landon Heritage again. I think I know where she is."

Before Devons could argue or object, Landon said, "They're below Ducky's. In the subway tunnels." And he hung up. Then he went back to the mirror, alternating between watching Mary and her crew, and watching Eiress rocking Kaida in the chair while she stared out the window.

Hopeless.

It took the cops less than five minutes to swarm the tunnels, which meant that while they might think Landon was a basket-case kid, they at least believed him enough to come, and bring backup. They caught five of Mary's court, but the rest, and Mary, escaped into the darkness.

Of course.

Landon slammed his fist into the wall, but there was nothing to be done. Mary seemed to have melted into the shadows, unseen. They laughed while they hid, watching their cohorts being arrested. No honor among thieves, or whatever.

Landon sank back into his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. "What am I supposed to do now?" he muttered, but he already knew. He'd run the first time he'd met Mary. He'd let Eiress do the heavy fighting in the Isle. Now, he'd run out of anyone else to do this for him.

He had to go after Mary.

First things first, though. He wasn't going into this completely unprepared. Knowledge was power. Isn't that what everyone always said? He opened his laptop and sank into his desk chair. He still hurt everywhere, but it was dulling, finally. Now, he felt like maybe he'd only been hit by one train.
What were Bloody Mary's greatest weaknesses?

He scanned the pages that came up, frustrated when all but the top three were about drinks and not people. He scanned what was there, but it was largely unhelpful. Her weakness was marrying Phillip, apparently, and her pride. Her strengths were gathering forces and getting others to rally behind her.

Yeah. That one, Landon knew too well.

But she was a human before she was a horrific legend, right? He erased his search terms and tried again.
What were Mary Tudor's weaknesses?

The search bar tried to suggest achievements, hobbies, and accomplishments instead of weakness. It was like the internet itself was behind her. After reading for almost an hour, the only weakness she had seemed to have in life was that she was abandoned by everyone who should have been there to guide her. Her father, her husband, her advisors. She hadn't been trained to be royalty. She'd lived mostly in obscurity when she took the crown, and she led with emotion and never a level head. That, and she was incredibly stubborn.

None of that seemed like anything that would help him, so he gave up.

Mostly numb with exhaustion or maybe resignation, he went to his dad's gun safe and turned the key. He pulled out the hand gun and the rifle and the backpack his dad kept full of ammo. He was just swinging the bag over his shoulder when something glinted in the back of the safe.

Frowning, he reached in and closed his fingers around it, brought it out into the light.

His tiger's eye crystal.

He turned to Eiress's mother, but she was not there. "How…?"

"It belongs to us. It comes when we call it."

Landon scanned the room, but there was no sign of Eiress's mother.

Or the other voices that spoke with her.

"Good to know," he said, his voice shaky.

Tucking the crystal in his pocket, he adjusted the bag and the guns so he didn't drop anything, and he left. He'd just started the truck when his phone rang. He recognized the number.

Officer Devons.

"Hello?" He shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. Now, when he looked in the mirror, he saw Mary, and he saw Eiress. Eiress was still in the rocking chair, and Mary was still in the tunnels, heading north, as far as Landon could tell.

"How did you know where they were, kid?"

"If I told you, you'd never believe me."

"We need you to come into the station for questioning."

Landon stopped at a stop sign. "Am I in trouble?"

"Not right now. Could change if you don't cooperate, though."

Shifting into first with his broken hand proved difficult. "Sorry. I really am. But I can't come in right now."

"What?" Devons didn't sound as surprised as Landon expected. Apparently, dealing with uncooperative juvenile delinquents wasn't unusual for him.

"I'm not trying to be difficult," Landon said. It sounded lame even to his own ears.

"You think your vigilante crusade is going to end better than our sting did? You think you're not gonna get killed messing around with this? These people aren't a joke, kid."

"Trust me. I know that better than anyone you'll ever meet."

"Then get your butt in here and let us do our job!"

Landon hung up.

Awesome. He was hunting Mary, she was hunting everything, apparently, and now the police were hunting him. This was getting less and less fun by the minute.

In the mirror, Eiress screamed.

Landon nearly drove into a ditch. Jerking the truck to the side of the road, he leaned closer to the rearview mirror, straining to see what was going on.

She was under attack.

Souls were swarming through her chambers. She had Kaida behind her and she was throwing her hands around and the souls were flying across the room, some of them exploding, some bursting into flames, some disintegrating into wafts of ash. Basically…

She was kicking ass.

Sweet, beautiful Eiress, love of his life, was fighting the swarming souls, and
she was winning.

But she felt him. He could tell because suddenly, her attacks were more powerful, more deadly. Faster. Her hands moved so quickly they blurred, and the fire seemed to leap from her fingertips, strangling the souls as it burned them to nothing. As if she were borrowing his strength, she straightened her spine and raised her chin, flames dancing in her eyes.

He'd heard rumors of sorcerers who threw spells of fire, but he'd never seen anything like it before.

Until now.

And he wondered if she could possibly belong to them, those rumored sorcerers. If she'd had this power all along and only found it now. But the way she moved, with so much confidence and so much strength, like she was born to it.

He watched her until every soul was gone, every demon and nightmare vanquished. Then, she slowly sank into her armchair, one hand on Kaida and the other brushing her stray curl away from her face. She looked up to the mirror and she smiled. "Thank you." Taking a deep, shaking breath, she nodded. "You need to go. You're running out of time."

S
WEARING,
L
ANDON TORE HIS EYES FROM
Eiress and shifted into drive, roaring back out onto the road, cutting off a black Suburban as he did. "Sorry," he muttered, slamming his foot down on the gas. In the mirror, Eiress paced. Next to her, Mary and her court laughed as they stormed through the subway tunnels. Mary, with her chin high, leading them all.

Once, while he was driving, he happened to glance at the rearview mirror in time to see Mary slitting the throat of a helpless man with her claw-like nails. Then she kissed him while he bled out. Eiress was right.

He was running out of time.

He pushed the truck faster, the guns rattling on the seats next to him. At a red light, he tried to count how many were in her court, but too many of them were in the shadows. He had no idea what he was up against.

And he could not fail.

If they killed him, they also killed Eiress. They'd go after his parents. Eiress's mom would be doomed to walk this earth as a ghost, never finding peace.

He could not fail.

He was almost to the subway entrance when he saw the cop cars parked nearby, lights flashing. They were searching the tunnels and no one seemed to be getting past their tape.

"Awesome." He sank back against the seat and ran a hand over his face. They'd never let him through. If Devons saw him, he'd probably arrest him. Especially if he got caught with these guns.

He had to ditch the truck.

As subtly as he could, he steered to the side of the road and parked it. Keeping one eye on the flashing lights down the road, he quickly gathered the guns and the backpack and slid out, shutting the door quietly. He'd have to backtrack to the last station.

He made it several yards and was confident he was blending into the darkness when he tripped over the manhole cover. It rattled against its base and echoed through the quiet of the street.

Landon spun toward the other end of the street, but no one seemed to have notice him. Slowly, he released the pent up breath he'd been holding and continued on.

Behind him, the manhole cover rattled again.

He was absolutely positive he hadn't kicked it this time. Slowly, so slowly, he turned toward it again. In the darkness, silhouetted by the flash of red and blue lights, he saw the outline of Eiress's mother. Apparently, he was supposed to go through the manhole.

He wasn't sure it was legal. He knew that normally, it required a big key thing to open a manhole cover, and probably all kinds of other special equipment. But this one was half-open already, so he pulled it wide enough to fit through and slid inside. The ladder was cold and slick and he nearly dropped the guns and broke his neck trying to get down.

Clearly, he wasn't born for a life of crime.

He landed with a thud on the thin alley between the track and the wall, and turned in a slow circle. "Which way do I go?"

To the right, a rock rattled across the tracks.

"Okay. North it is." He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and checked to make sure the rifle was loaded and ready. The handgun was tucked into his jeans at his back, also loaded. He just hoped he didn't accidentally shoot himself in the ass.

He'd walked for several silent minutes, nearly getting run over by the train only once. The smell of blood was the first sign he was getting close. The sight of it was next—all over the walls, glistening in the darkness, still wet. It was the guy he'd seen Mary attack in the mirror. She'd used his life force to paint pictures on the walls, pictures of beheaded people, burning at the stake. Hanging from trees. He could hear her laughter echoing through the tunnels and it sent chills through his blood. He held the tiger's eye crystal in one hand and the rifle in the other, his finger light on the trigger. He was immensely grateful that his dad had taught him to use a gun when he was still small.