Blackhearted Betrayal (13 page)

The most obvious difference consisted of the vast number of shadows lining each side of the cobblestoned sidewalk upon which we now strode. While full darkness benefited our desire to pass quickly and quietly from Hounds of Anubis to our destination, it also increased the odds for someone hoping to make a nighttime ambush before we reached the Temple Anupu. Of course, none of the three traveling with me would make that easy, increased hidey-holes or no.

My companions fanned out around me in an obviously protective manner; laughable for the mere fact they thought they were being subtle. Sahana walked at my side—but close enough I could have smacked her shapely derriere with little effort if she or I pinch-hit for the other team. Charlie scouted the sidewalk ahead, all
seven-foot-plus of him casting such a long shadow that Anubis himself might have thought twice before tangling with the Giant. Mac, in contrast, ghosted so far behind, I was tempted to ask if he had to stop to use the little boys’ room. In reality, he couldn’t resist channeling Fury magic every few moments to check for any unwanted followers. I was torn between amusement he thought he could hide his efforts from a full Fury and gratitude he was saving me the effort. At least this way I could save my own energy for the task ahead: getting seven or eight people safely through that damned portal.

We reached the intersection splitting the main thoroughfare we had been walking along from the narrow, silent avenue leading to the temple. Charlie left the cobblestones to duck into an even narrower gangway between a boarded-up former furniture store and a thriving-so-much-it-was-already-closed-for-the-night pawnshop. The rest of us followed suit.

“Something wrong?” I murmured, once all four of us huddled inside the gangway.

Charlie hesitated before shaking his head slowly. “Not wrong, exactly. Just interesting. I know you’re not strong in earth magic, but tap into the area and tell me what you think.”

Trusting his instincts, I complied without question, although it took me a few moments to pick up on what he’d noticed right away. Normally, vast pools of magic layered the ground beneath our feet, waiting for practitioners to call upon and channel them in whatever manner they could. Each magic user had personal stores of energy to call upon, but those would fade quickly if not replenished from some external source. The Underbelly had been founded in this area of Boston not only because
mortals had mostly abandoned it during the Great War, but because an exceptionally high number of magical reservoirs rested beneath.

Reservoirs that, at least in the immediate vicinity I could sense, currently measured at dangerously low levels. We would be able to channel magic to fuel our abilities, if needed, but not for very long. My body tensed. I couldn’t think of too many—okay, any—natural causes for such a major power depletion in such a large area, not so late at night or without some very apparent, very large magical ritual going on.

Mac’s eyes zeroed in on my face. “Trouble?”

My turn to hesitate. “Not anything obvious; but the magical reservoirs around here are really low.”

His frown was apparent even in the abysmal lighting cast from a faraway streetlamp. “Low enough to present a problem getting where we need to go?”

“It shouldn’t be, not with everyone’s personal reserves to draw upon if needed, plus whatever is available inside the temple. No,
that’s
not what has me concerned.”

“Then what—”

Durra’s irritatingly familiar voice responded before I could. “If none of us have depleted the area’s magic, then who—or what—has?”

We four whirled to see Durra lead Laurell and Patricia between the walls of our temporary hideaway. Funny how, respecting her mother as I now did, Durra
still
hadn’t grown on me any. Okay, maybe not so much
funny
as logical considering everything she’d done to me—orders or not. Still, just having three Furies added to our number made a small measure of inner tension evaporate. No matter how much I trusted the others to kick ass and take names, they simply weren’t Furies. Not
even Mac—not yet. Mom might have taught him a lot, but some abilities and knowledge came only upon swearing the oaths.

Oaths I very much hoped he would be allowed to someday take.

“My question exactly.” I made quick introductions before getting back to the immediate concern. “This temple is the only one for at least a block radius. Is there some sort of Underworld convention going on that I don’t know about?”

I addressed my question mostly to Sahana because—Hey! Death magic!—and she tilted her head in consideration. “Not that
I’ve
heard.”

Which pretty much meant
hell no
.

Charlie piped back up, “Should we find some other temple portal to—”

If only life were that easy. “We can’t. It has to be a portal directly into
his
territory.”

Durra shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It makes little sense to speculate on the cause for the depleted reservoirs. Either it has nothing to do with the temple—and by extension us—or the priests have likely used the power to fortify the temple’s defenses, and we’ll simply have to adapt. As you said, we have no other choice.”

I hated it when Durra was right even if she
was
agreeing with me. “If all else fails, and trouble ensues, all I have to do is assume—” I looked from Durra to Laurell and Patricia and arched a questioning brow. When Durra nodded, I continued, “—Nemesis form, and the priests will have no option but to let us pass. Extra defenses or not, both arcane
and
immortal law dictate that portals are to be open to Nemeses at all times.”

Everyone else relaxed …everyone except Durra and me, who had the greatest understanding of what we might be up against. I’d had a sudden newsflash on just
what
the Anubian priests might have used that large amount of magic on and was willing to bet Durra had, too: summoning Anubis himself from the Underworld to the mortal realm, something that would require a hell of a lot of juice. Especially if, like the members of the Triad, he
had
made the power jump from lesser god to greater.

In which case, we were likely about to get our asses kicked in all ways figurative and literal—and I was the only one who couldn’t be killed. Meaning everyone else’s lives depended upon me. No pressure or anything.

ENTERING TEMPLE ANUPU WAS A SIMPLE
enough task—a matter of walking up to the front doors and stepping into a dimly lit but pretty vestibule. Polished hardwood floors made it difficult to sneak in quietly, but we hadn’t really been going for stealth. The walls might have been a generic beige color, but vertical stripes made up of brilliant Egyptian hieroglyphics saved them from being a total snoozefest. A wide hallway led left and right, each branch ending in a staircase, one heading up, one down. And another set of double doors, this time featuring a stained-glass depiction of Mr. Jackal-Faced himself, stood opposite the entryway. As usual, he stared out of a black-cowled robe, his true face shrouded behind a golden jackal mask with only neon yellow eyes—nearly identical to a Hound’s except for the stark silver light rimming them—visible.

The telltale tingle of magical wards washed over my skin upon crossing the threshold, but no hint of blaring sirens heralded our arrival. I was almost disappointed. My companions shadowed me into the entryway and spread out to each side. The mercs—Charlie and Mac—and we Furies cataloged our immediate surroundings for potential threats and escape routes while Sahana admired the elaborately designed walls. Not that one could blame her—they
were
pretty impressive, other than the whole beige thing.

“Several people touched by Death magic are approaching,” she murmured, showing that Sahana was no less observant than the professional killers in the group—the big reason I’d been so eager to involve someone who was neither Fury, merc, nor, technically, a police officer.
Nobody
knew Death magic better than a Bhairavi Raga except,
maybe
, a Death Lord.

I nodded but kept my expression serene. Just because most temples kept their doors unlocked for weary worshippers at all times didn’t mean they turned a blind eye to potential thieves or troublemakers—or surprise visits from what amounted to a veritable arcane task force. Not too surprising that the newcomers emerged from below: a trio of black-robed priests—and one priestess—who wore lots of gold jewelry, including a neckpiece from which dangled oversized jackals and woven gold belts, also featuring jackals. Their expressions appeared as unruffled as my own even when faced by our intimidating entourage. Too bad I couldn’t just challenge them to a game of poker over a bottle of Jack. From the look of things, they would give me a run for my money.

One of the priests allowed an unconvincing smile to touch his lips as they stopped several feet away. His eyes
moved straight to me, still in mortal form, although wearing slacks and a sleeveless blouse that clearly displayed my usual (thanks to magic) red snake tats. These days, my own mortal form was as easily recognized by arcanes as my Fury getup. “Chief Holloway. I am Khenti-Manu. To what do we owe this unexpected …honor?”

The
Khenti
surprised me, since I knew that was a very high-ranking—and rare—title in Anubis’s priestly hierarchy. It seemed weird for someone of that level to be working in a relatively obscure temple in the U.S. rather than in Egypt or the Underworld itself. “Good evening, Excellency.” A little brown-nosing never hurt. “I apologize for the unorthodox nature of our visit, but I am here in my capacity as Fury rather than Chief Magical Investigator.”

Not a single chink appeared in his priestly armor. “I see. How can we be of service, then, Kindly One?”

One of those old-school euphemisms for Furies meant to sweeten us up. Guess
brown-nosing
was a two-way street. “We are carrying out a gods-blessed Mandate, Excellency, and have need of your portal to the Underworld.”

His serenity didn’t falter, but I couldn’t say the same for Tweedledee and Dum standing to each side; their clenched fists and ugly scowls showed what they thought of
that
request. Not such stellar poker opponents after all.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Kindly One. Please forgive me for the impertinence.”

Huh. Outright refusal
had
been a possibility, but I hadn’t really thought it a likely one. It made no sense for Anubis to paint a bigger target on his back by issuing a blanket order to
all
his priests in the mortal realm to deny passage to Furies traveling to the Underworld.
Unless …unless he hadn’t; say, for instance, he’d somehow known exactly
who
the Triad would select as Nemesis and had only instructed
this
temple to block portal access to
this
Fury. That would also explain why such a high-ranking priest had been sent to pull duty
there
. Apparently Anubis had a damned good spy among either the Megaeras or the
Gens Immortalis
to obtain that information so quickly.

The urge to shift to Nemesis mode and set to smiting was hard to resist, especially when Rage suddenly tinged my vision gray, but as long as I had the slightest chance of making it through that portal with my secret intact, I would damned well keep trying.

I blinked several times to clear my messed-up eyesight. “Forgive me, Excellency, but I’m not sure I understand. Are you actually refusing portal passage to a Fury on active duty?”

“Of course not.” Gods, but he would make a master poker player. The uninflected voice; the neutral expression; the lack of any giveaway
tells
. “I’m afraid that our portal has been malfunctioning for the past several days and thus is quite useless.”

I just bet it is.
Still, I had to give him props for coming up with a cover story that would both give no offense and effectively dissuade most Furies from pressing further. Too bad for him I wasn’t
most Furies
.

“Fortunately for you, Durra here is an expert on repairing malfunctioning portals.” And lucky for
me
, she managed a mean poker face of her own. “You won’t mind if we take a look at it now.” Very deliberately
not
a question. If he refused this time, he’d be openly defying the Sisterhood and, by extension, the immortals themselves. Anubis wouldn’t want to risk that yet, not
when he hadn’t declared open warfare or himself to be a greater god.

A bead of sweat appeared above Mr. Cool’s upper lip. I almost felt sorry for him. “How fortunate indeed. What a generous offer. Please, follow us to the portal room.” Tweedledee and Dum appeared no less annoyed than before but didn’t gainsay their spokesman.

Durra touched my arm, and we let everyone precede us before falling into step at the back of the line. “Why would you tell them I’m an expert in portal magic, Marissa? They’re going to notice when I fail to repair it.”

Weird how she kept her voice actually respectful; maybe because of my newfound divinity? “Because I’m pretty sure that it’s just a ruse meant to send us packing without suspicion. Unfortunately for them, I was born suspicious. I’d stake my life—okay,
your
life since I can’t die right now—that their portal is working just fine.”

“Logical, I suppose. But what if they’re just leading us into a trap?”