FOURTEEN
THE GOOD NEWS WAS, I made it. The bad news was, it still felt like I’d been squeezed through a clothes wringer afterward. I paused for a moment to take stock, becoming aware of the other good news—namely, that Sharalynn’s sandals had made it through with me, meaning I wouldn’t be stuck negotiating a multi-hundred-foot-deep cave system barefoot.
I was fumbling in the pockets of my shorts for the little LED flashlight Edward had loaned me when a much brighter light illuminated the tunnel. I yelped in surprise and nearly fell down the pile of boulders I was perched on top of.
“Fancy a light, love?” asked a dry voice with a pronounced English accent.
I half-stumbled and half-slid down the tumble of rocks leading to floor level, and then I was in Rans’ arms, clutching handfuls of his shirt as I buried my face in the dip of his shoulder. The light source he’d been holding clattered to the floor as his arms circled me, but its glow filtered around the edges of my vision, reassuring me that it hadn’t broken when it hit the ground.
“Yes, please,” I managed, the words muffled against him.
He let me cling for a few moments before easing me back. The crazy shadows from the fallen flashlight obscured the details of his expression, but his eyes were glowing as they swept over me from head to toe.
“I see you found some footwear,” he said in a deceptively mild tone. “And here I thought I might have to sling you over my shoulder like a sack of grain for the trek back to the parking lot.”
“You’re angry,” I said. “I get it, believe me.”
“Bloody furious, yeah,” he agreed. “That’s not your problem, though. It’s mine. Come on—walk and talk. I’m not thrilled about our chances down here if anyone with a grudge thinks to look for us on this side of the gate. Now... first things first. I assume Nigellus patched Edward together after whatever it was that happened. But your father?”
He let me go in favor of retrieving the flashlight from the floor. I fell in with him as he led the way, skirting around the pit in the tunnel floor and heading toward the surface. With difficulty, I tried to drag my thundering pulse and whirling thoughts under control.
“Dad’s all right,” I said. “Edward saved him somehow. Myrial showed up inside the hut he and Edward are sharing after they’d both gone to bed. Edward put some kind of magical protections on the room Dad was in, and then he came out to confront Myrial.”
“Selfless old fool,” Rans muttered.
I swallowed hard. “Myrial... tore him apart. When Nigellus and I arrived, bits of him were strewn all over the hut, and the walls—”
“But Nigellus fixed him,” Rans said firmly, cutting through the memory. “And I’ll wager he’s good as new now.”
My jaw worked. “Yeah. He laughed it off like it was nothing. Edward did, I mean. But it wasn’t nothing. And Dad saw the whole thing happen, in gory detail.”
Rans made a noise of regret, but didn’t slow his pace. “With any luck, your father’s condition will have kept him from understanding the full impact of what he saw...”
But I shook my head. “No. Turns out, he’s doing much better than when I left.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Apparently all he needed to get his marbles back was not to be stuck inside a tiny hut with his daughter for weeks on end.”
Rans shot me a sideways glance. “You’re cutting yourself down again, love. If he’s doing better, then good for him. But it’s only because his mind is starting to heal from the shock of being subjected to Dhuinne’s magic, not because of anything you did or didn’t do.”
My shoulder lifted and lowered in a half-shrug. “Whatever. Anyway, he’s fairly lucid right now... and he was pretty damned upset by what happened.”
“As well he might be,” Rans added.
“Both he and Edward were at least able to identify Myrial as the attacker, though,” I continued. “The Council agreed to post demon guards on the two of them until they can complete a full investigation, and Nigellus stayed behind to work on them some more. I guess Myrial managed a pretty successful smear campaign against me in Hell after the salt thing.”
“Bloody demons,” Rans said under his breath.
“Sometimes I think things would be a lot simpler if someone could wave a magic wand and seal both of the gates between Earth and the other realms,” I said. Then my tone soured. “Though I suppose it would leave Dad and a whole bunch of innocent tithelings on the wrong side of the locked door separating Earth and Hell, if that happened.”
Rans didn’t comment. Ahead of us, the tunnel opened out into the domed chamber of the main cavern. I wasn’t sure how time ran between the different realms, relatively speaking—but it must be daytime on the West Coast, because tourists milled around the area, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the interesting rock formations.
The compact flashlight disappeared into Rans’ pocket, no longer necessary thanks to the electric lights illuminating the massive space. We headed toward the huge spiral staircase that would take us to the surface, moving briskly without hurrying fast enough to draw the attention of those around us.
“I’ll be happier when you’re safely back at the winery, behind a second set of wards,” Rans said, pitching the words for my ears alone as we jogged up the rusted iron steps. “Something about this whole thing doesn’t sit right. I feel like I’m missing a trick.”
I refrained from asking under what circumstances a demon ripping someone to pieces and painting the walls with their blood would sit right—partly because I knew that wasn’t what he meant, and partly because we were still surrounded by innocent tourists who didn’t need to hear us talking about stuff like
