Hades

“This is an outrage,” he hissed under his breath when the torchlight revealed my condition. “I’ll not forgive him for this.”

“Can you get me out of here?” I asked, hating myself for my lack of stoicism. But seeing as I’d survived a burning at the stake, maybe I wasn’t meant to be a martyr.

“Why do you think I came?” he said, looking pleased with himself. He touched the lock on the cell and it turned to ash and crumbled to the ground.

“Won’t Big Daddy find out about this?” I asked, surprised to hear myself casually using his nickname.

“Only a matter of time.” Jake sounded unconcerned. “There are more spies down here than there are souls.”

“And then what?” I needed to know what the future held. Was Jake only offering a temporary reprieve? He seemed to read my thoughts.

“We’ll worry about that later.”

He tugged at the cell door and it shifted a little, enough for me to squeeze through.

“Hurry,” Jake urged, but I didn’t move. Moving in any direction was difficult.

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days, but I hear you slept through most of it. Here, give me your hand. I’m sorry things turned out like this.”

His apology caught me off guard. Jake was not in the habit of accepting responsibility for the damage he’d caused. He looked at me intently and I could see he had something on his mind. His brow was creased and a look of preoccupation had replaced his usual expression of scornful detachment. His hawk-like gaze didn’t leave my face.

“You’re not well,” he observed at last. I wondered what made him think I’d be well given the circumstances. Jake was like a chameleon; he could change his manner to suit his own agenda. Right now his solicitous behavior was unsettling me and I couldn’t resist a sarcastic reply.

“Being kept in a cage doesn’t do much for the complexion,” I muttered.

“I’m trying to help you here — you could at least show some appreciation.”

“Haven’t you helped me enough?” I said, but when he offered me his hand again I took it.

Slowly and by using his arm to support my weight I managed to wriggle out of the compartment. I found that although I could stand I couldn’t take more than a step or two without my legs giving way. Jake took one look at me before handing me the torch and lifting me into his arms. He strode out of the chambers with a regal confidence and although I was sure I saw eyes like burning coals watching us through the gloom, no one made any attempt to stop us.

Outside the chambers Jake’s motorbike was waiting. He deposited me carefully on the back before mounting and switching on the ignition. Seconds later I was pressed against him as the suffocating chambers of Hades disappeared behind me.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, seeing unfamiliar surroundings.

“I have an idea I think might make you feel better.”

Jake drove without stopping until we reached the entrance to a deep gorge with steep cliff walls and black running water that seemed to flow into a channel underground. Jake dismounted lightly, watching me with growing agitation.

“Are you in pain?”

I nodded mutely. There was little point withholding information from him now. There was nothing he could do with it that could possibly worsen my situation. Jake seemed to have anticipated what was happening to me and seemed more informed than I was.

“Tell me,” he continued. “How do your wings feel?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard and I felt myself blush suddenly. There was something about it I found objectionable. My wings were one thing that defined my very existence. I had worked hard to keep them from prying human eyes. They were an intensely personal part of me and I wasn’t sure I wanted to discuss their condition with Jake Thorn, Prince of Hades.

“I haven’t given them much thought,” I said evasively.

“Well, think about them now.”

Once Jake had drawn my attention to them I became aware of how they were throbbing beneath my shoulder blades, burning to be released. Every so often they sent shooting pains down my back. I felt irritated with him for drawing my attention to the problem. I had deliberately chosen to ignore the issue of my wings. What was the point of doing otherwise in Hades?

“We need to do something about them,” Jake said decisively. “If you want to keep them that is.”

I didn’t like his use of the plural we rather than you. It made me feel as if we were working as a team, as if we had shared problems we could tackle together. I gave him a blank stare.

“Perhaps what I’m trying to say might be better demonstrated.” Before I knew it Jake was peeling off his black leather jacket and flinging it to the ground. He turned his back to me and pulled his shirt up over his head. Then he stood with his back straight and his head slightly bowed, a humbling pose that looked distinctly out of place on him.

“What do you see?” he asked in a muted voice. I scanned the contours of his back. Jake’s shoulders were slender but well formed and not unathletic. He didn’t have bulging muscles, but every tendon was taut and lean and rippled when he moved. He looked fast on his feet and dangerous.

“I don’t see anything,” I replied, averting my eyes.

“Look closely,” Jake urged, taking a step backward so he was even closer, his back bent in front of me in a white arc. Something caught my eye then and I looked with open curiosity. The skin on his back was smooth and unblemished except for two rows of tiny pea-size nodules that ran like an extra set of vertebrae under each shoulder blade. The row of little beads under his skin, only a centimeter or two apart, looked like scarring from wounds that hadn’t properly healed. I didn’t need to ask what they were the remnants of.

“What happened to them?” I asked in a hoarse whisper, the true meaning of what he was showing me suddenly jelling in my mind.

“They wasted away over time and eventually fell off,” he said bluntly.

“From lack of use?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes, but more as a result of retribution,” he said. “The point is that I had them too once and, believe me, they were spectacular.”

Had I caught a note of regret in his voice?

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want to avoid the same thing happening to you.”

“But how can I stop it?” I asked my eyes filling with tears. “I’m always locked up. Unless … are you saying you’re going to let me fly?”

“Not exactly,” Jake said, before I could start to imagine what seemed like an incomprehensible thought. “It would be more like supervised activity.”

“What does that mean?”

“I am going to let you fly but on two conditions. I have to make sure you’re safe … and that you’re not seen.” Suddenly I knew why we were there. The gorge was concealed yet perfectly designed for flight.

“You don’t trust me?” I asked.

“It isn’t a question of trust. You couldn’t go far even if you did try to escape. It’s more a matter of what you might run into out there on your own.”

“So how are you going to ensure my safety?” I asked. “It’s not like you can fly with me.”

“That’s where my idea comes in,” Jake said. “It might seem odd to you at first but try to be open-minded. It really is the only way for you to survive as an angel.”

“What’s your idea?” I asked curiously. My wings seemed to know we were talking about them and strained to burst open. It took all of my self-control to restrain them. I didn’t know if I could do it for much longer.

“It’s no big deal,” said Jake lightly. “It simply involves you wearing a restraint.”

“You want to put me on a leash!” I was outraged now that his meaning had become clear.