Hidden Goddess (Shadows of the Immortals Book 4) Read online

  I nudged the nearest Cerberus with my foot, but got no response. They were both breathing, their massive chests rising and falling in a regular rhythm, but it was clearly no ordinary sleep. The shadow shapers probably hadn’t even needed to chain them. It didn’t look as though they’d be going anywhere any time soon. I pushed at the bright red glow of their life force—or tried to, at least—but that barrier still held me out.

  There was nothing else in the cell. No food or water, no furniture but the bed, not even a blanket. Nothing but the red eye of the camera glaring down at me. Too bad if I wanted to go to the toilet, I guess.

  Both my knife sheaths were empty. No surprises there. I felt the pocket where the all-important key to the collars had been. Naturally, that was empty, too. I closed my eyes as despair washed over me. They’d left me nothing.

  Except Syl. The fact that she wasn’t in here with me gave me hope that she’d escaped capture. *Syl? Where are you?*

  Even sending my mind out questing for her familiar life spark intensified the pounding in my head. The answer came back at full volume, and I winced.

  *Oh, thank God! You’re alive! I’ve been calling you for ages. When I saw you drop like that I thought you were dead.*

  I cradled my throbbing head in my hands. *I’m not that easy to kill. Ages? What time is it?*

  *How would I know? Cats don’t wear bloody wristwatches.* Well, that sounded more like the Syl we all knew and loved. *It might be an hour since you went in.*

  Okay, so maybe three o’clock in the morning, then. *Where are you?*

  *On the roof. I ran in to help when the bomb went off, but I couldn’t get to you before the shadow shapers did. And you were all just lying there like you were dead—I couldn’t think what to do.* Her mental tone was getting shrill. We must have scared the crap out of her. *I thought if I made it up here without anyone seeing me, I could keep an eye on things and maybe figure something out.*

  *That was good thinking,* I said, trying to massage the pain out of my pounding head so I could think, too. Syl being free gave us an advantage, but only if we could come up with a plan.

  *Where are you?* she asked. *Are you all right?*

  *All right-ish. I’m in the basement. Feel like shit but nothing’s broken, just a few cuts.* At least someone had pulled all the shards of glass out of me before they chained me up. *Two of the Cerberi are with me.* I paused, watching the rise and fall of those big chests, feeling a terrible guilt that there were only two bodies lying on the floor instead of three. *He—he’s not in good shape.*

  *What happened? One minute you were on the balcony and the next thing there was this big explosion.*

  I filled her in on what I’d pieced together—that one of the Cerberi, running ahead, had set off a bomb that must have been meant for me. They knew I would come for Hades. The Merrow had probably told them there’d been three people in a boat watching the house, casing the joint. So they’d prepared a little surprise welcome, and caught a third of a hellhound in their trap instead. The other two-thirds were now in some kind of magical coma. Because the other part of their threesome had died? But he wasn’t truly dead. At least, I hoped not. I’d shoved that little spark of life into Lucas for safekeeping.

  *Where’s Lucas?* Syl asked, as if she’d read my mind. *Is he safe?*

  Good question. I blamed my pounding headache for the fact that I hadn’t wondered that already. My brain felt like it was mired in molasses. Come on, Lexi, get it together. People were relying on me here. I couldn’t afford to be off my game.

  Last time I’d seen him, he’d been in werewolf form, forced to change by his injuries. Shifters’ human forms couldn’t cope as well with injury as their animal ones could. He must have been hurt pretty badly to force an involuntary change. Something else to feel guilty about—he’d been in front of me, partly shielding me from the blast with his body. At least he should heal quickly in wolf form.

  I cast my mind out, and found his bright spark straight away, very close. He was asleep, so I prodded him awake, and a peek out of his eyes confirmed my suspicions. He lay on the floor, and a chain clinked as he moved his head. He was tethered to a bolt in the floor, the same as the two Cerberi in my room. On a bed similar to mine, a familiar figure sat, watching him patiently—a short, older man, perhaps sixty years old, thickening through the body. Hades. His blue eyes, bright in his weathered brown face, were fixed on Lucas. He’d probably been waiting for the wolf to wake up. His bed had blankets, presumably because he’d been a “guest” a little longer than the rest of us. The shadow shapers probably figured I wasn’t worth dirtying a blanket for.

  *Hey, it’s Lexi. Are you all right?* I asked the werewolf, projecting my words gently into his mind.

  He took the appearance of a disembodied voice surprisingly well. Perhaps he remembered the story of how I’d snuck into Holly’s wolf mind to calm her while she was giving birth. *I’m still a bit tender, but pretty good.* He looked all around the small room he shared with Hades, ignoring the god for the moment. *Where are you?*

  *Just across the hallway from you. The other two Cerberi are with me.*

  *Are they alive?*

  *Yes, but they won’t wake up.* I could still see the tiny red spark of the missing Cerberus’s essence flickering deep inside Lucas’s own white light, sheltering in the glow of his life force. *It’s like they’ve gone offline without their other part.*

  I wanted to ask Lucas if he felt odd, but then I’d have to admit why I was asking and what I’d done. It was probably weird enough for him to be talking to someone inside his own head without mentioning that he was also harbouring a piece of hellhound. If I could just figure out a way to get that piece back to its rightful owner, our troubles could be over—or at least alleviated. I was pretty sure those chains wouldn’t stop Cerberus if he was firing on all cylinders again.

  *I’m locked up with some old guy,* Lucas said. *I’m guessing that’s Hades?*

  *Yep. That’s him. Are you up to turning human yet? Tell him what’s happened, and that we’ve come to save him.*

  *That part doesn’t seem to be working out so well,* he said.

  *We’ll figure something out.* I tried to sound confident, but I don’t think he was fooled. Here we were, chained in our separate rooms, with not a weapon or a magic power between us. Well, I had my power, but the shadow shapers had made sure I had no options for using it. The only animal inside the house was the little fluffy white dog—except for Cerberus, of course, but he was well and truly out of commission for now. I had a feeling it would take a god’s power to put him back together. But before Hades could regain access to his power, we had to get back the damn key that the shadow shapers had taken from me. There’d be no removing the collar without it. *Syl is still free.*

  *Good.* The relief in his voice was palpable. *Maybe she can call Winston and get Apollo to help.*

  *Maybe.* If Apollo wouldn’t help before, it seemed highly unlikely that he would now, with all of us caught. That could be a last resort if I couldn’t come up with a better plan. *Why don’t you bring Hades up to speed. He might have some ideas. Tell him I said hi.*

  *Will do.*

  I turned my attention back to Syl. *Found Lucas. He’s okay.* I didn’t mention that he had part of a hellhound inside him. That went under the heading of “things Syl didn’t need to know about”.

  *I knew he would be,* she said, all fake bravado, but I knew her well enough to know she’d been near-panicked about her favourite werewolf. *Wolves are hard to kill.*

  *Yeah.* Hopefully the rest of us were, too. Footsteps sounded in the hall outside; at least two people, maybe three. I expected them to stop at the guard station next to Hades’ room, but they continued to my door, followed by the sound of a key in the lock. *Gotta go,* I said to Syl. *Looks like I’ve got company.*

  *At this time of night? Maybe they’re bringing you munchies.*

  *I’d prefer headache tablets.* I eyed the door as it swung open, my stomach tighte
ning with nerves. Whoever was at my door, I doubted I would enjoy their visit.

  14

  “Well, that’s a blast from the past,” I said. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  “Nor I you.” Adrian stood in the doorway, looking disappointingly well for someone who’d been inside a collapsing house last time I’d seen him.

  Despite it being sometime after three in the morning, his dark hair was still sleekly gelled back from his forehead. He’d probably been waiting for his trap to be triggered rather than sleeping. There was a small red stain on his white shirt, near the breast pocket, but unfortunately it looked more like red wine than blood. Must have been a good dinner party. “I could hardly believe it when Bruno told me it was you. I had to come and see for myself.”

  I remained seated on the bed, leaning back against the wall, trying to look casual. “What are you lot doing in a shaper city? You were so gung-ho about human rights last time I saw you, this is the last place I would have expected to find you. How are all those downtrodden humans back in Newport managing without you?”

  The keys to the cell were still in his hand as he shut the door. Did they also unlock the chain around my ankle? Perhaps if I goaded him, he’d come close enough that we could find out. I certainly wouldn’t be making any surprise attacks with that chain weighing me down.

  He smiled as he closed the door and put the keys in his pocket. The crow’s feet around his eyes crinkled in the most disarming way when he smiled, which just went to show you could never judge a book by its cover. It sickened me, now, that I had once thought we could be friends. “Where else to hunt shaper gods than in shaper cities?”

  “Did many of your cockroach friends manage to scuttle to safety after our last meeting?”

  “You always like to go straight on the attack, don’t you? You killed quite a few of my friends, you know.”

  “You need better friends.”

  “I admire your bravado, if not your politics.”

  “What can I say? I’m skilled.”

  “You certainly are. I wish you hadn’t chosen the wrong side in this battle. You could have been a great asset for us.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not really a team player. I like to do things my way.”

  He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the door. Damn. It didn’t look as though he intended to come any closer. “Your way has brought you to this.” He nodded at the chain around my ankle. “Not working out so well for you anymore, is it?”

  “At least the bed’s comfy.” I bounced a little on the mattress to prove my point. “Although I think you could have tried harder with the blankets. The minimalist look is nice and all, but you’ve probably taken it a little too far.”

  He didn’t reply, just watched me, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. A smug, self-satisfied kind of smile. Supremely relaxed, he leaned against the door looking as though he was enjoying every minute of this. Obviously, my goading skills needed work.

  “So, how’s Mrs E enjoying life with only one arm? Having any trouble wiping her arse when she goes to the toilet, or do you do that for her?”

  The annoying smirk didn’t budge. It was starting to make me nervous. That was an A-grade I know something you don’t know kind of a smirk.

  “Mrs Emery is coping remarkably well. Of course, she has a state-of-the-art prosthetic. You can hardly tell it isn’t her own arm.”

  “Already? She must be a fast healer.”

  “She’s the strongest of us.”

  “Right. Silly me. All those stolen powers of yours come in handy for more than just murdering people, I guess.”

  “You can see her for yourself soon enough. She’ll be here in the morning.”

  Yay. I could hardly wait.

  “She’s very keen to have a chat with you,” he continued. “She was very surprised when I told her about this.”

  He pulled something from his breast pocket, something that shone with a familiar pewter gleam. It was the key that unlocked Mrs Emery’s vile collars, the one that Brontes had made on the banks of the River Styx after I’d freed him from Tartarus. The one that Mac had fished out of the canal for me. The one this bastard had stolen from my pocket—and now, he’d come here to gloat about it. He held it up to the light, turning it back and forth admiringly. “It’s a lovely piece of work, isn’t it? Mrs Emery thought there was only one in existence. She’s dying to know where you found this.”

  She could die with my blessing, because I wouldn’t be telling her anything. I opened my eyes wide in mock innocence. “That old thing? I just had it lying around somewhere.”

  “Well, it’s nice to have a spare. I’m sure you’ll tell us eventually.”

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

  The smirk widened into a grin. “I think you’ll find Mrs Emery can be very persuasive. You’ll be begging to tell her everything you know by the time she’s finished with you.”

  “Oh, please. You’ve been watching too much TV. Did you get those lines from a B-grade movie?”

  He slipped the key back into his pocket, his mouth a thin line. “You talk tough, but there are no animals here for you to use except Snowy, and I really doubt a lapdog will be your salvation, particularly as we’ve locked him up. You’re out of tricks, and out of time. In the end, we’ll get what we want. Everything we want.” He gazed down at Cerberus, collapsed all over the floor, and the smirk returned. “I must thank you for bringing this fellow along. He’s definitely no lapdog. Such a prize.”

  The way he referred to Cerberus set alarm bells ringing in my head. To all intents and purposes, there were two dogs lying on the floor. Identical dogs, yes, but as far as anyone could see, they were completely separate. But calling them “this fellow” made it sound as if he knew they were really part of the same creature.

  “No, they’re a little too big for lapdogs,” I said. “Shame you killed their brother with that cowardly trap.”

  “It’s ironic, really,” he said, ignoring my words. “You came all this way to free Hades, and you came so close. You even had the key you needed to unlock the collar and release his powers. And instead you’ve delivered the means of his destruction. We couldn’t have asked for more if we’d planned it ourselves.”

  His eyes gleamed as he met my alarmed gaze. What was he talking about? Hades was safe until they got their hands on his avatar, and that was never going to happen. The Helm was back in the underworld, being guarded by Hephaistos, the dead god of metalshaping. Did they think Hephaistos would trade it to save Cerberus’s life? They had rocks in their head if so. No hellhound was worth the Lord of the Underworld’s life, even if he was a treasured pet.

  “Catching a couple of dogs doesn’t get you the Helm.”

  He frowned in puzzlement. “What Helm? What are you talking about?”

  We stared at each other for a long moment, him confused, me furious and frightened and trying hard not to show it.

  And then he burst out laughing. He laughed and laughed, bent over with his hands on his knees. He laughed until tears ran from his eyes and, all the while, a cold terror crept upward from my gut into my chest, squeezing my lungs with an icy fist. When he finally stopped laughing, I was trembling, no longer able to offer even a pretence of casualness, my fists squeezing the edge of the mattress hard. Something dark and dreadful hung over my head. I could feel it there, waiting to drop and bury me.

  “You don’t know, do you?” His mouth twitched again as he fought off another fit of laughter. He shook his head. “You really don’t know.”

  Tell me, then, you bastard. The suspense was killing me.

  He waved his hand at Cerberus. “This is a surprise, of course. No one knew he could split into separate beings like this. Though perhaps not so separate after all, I suppose, considering the effect the death of one part has had on the others.” He frowned. “I hope that doesn’t mean we’ve lost any of the avatar’s power. If we’d known he was with you, we might hav
e reconsidered the bomb. Still, this is such a windfall, we shouldn’t really be ungrateful, should we?”

  He smiled at me, but I could only stare back at him, those words repeating over and over in my head: the avatar’s power. Gods above, what was he saying? The Helm was Hades’ avatar; even Apollo thought so.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t …” He shook his head again, still smiling. “I can’t wait to tell Mrs Emery.”

  “Tell her what, arsehole?”

  “That Hades’ would-be rescuers delivered his avatar right to us, and they didn’t even know they were doing it.”

  His avatar. Cerberus was Hades’ avatar. It made a horrible kind of sense—Cerberus’s fierce loyalty to Hades, the peculiar bond they shared … the fact that Hades had taken no particular steps to protect the Helm. He hadn’t needed to, because it wasn’t his avatar. Yet Cerberus had all kinds of supernatural protections. Or, at least, he had before he had split into three. He’d been unstoppable, completely unfazed by anything the shadow shapers had thrown at him. “But he’s … he’s not a thing. How can he be an avatar?”

  The words were no sooner out of my mouth than I remembered Apollo saying that he thought Athena’s avatar was her owl.

  “Avatars aren’t usually living beings,” Adrian said, “because living beings die. But what better avatar for the Lord of the Dead than an undying hellhound that never leaves the protection of his underworld? Or he didn’t, anyway, until you got involved and split him into killable pieces.”

  A pang of guilt pierced me. It was true. Without the protection of his bond with Hades, or of his own natural form, Cerberus had been vulnerable. Look what I had done. In trying to save Hades, I’d destroyed him. Now that the shadow shapers had both the god and his avatar in their power, Hades’ hours were numbered.