“Hellhounds mostly, although they tend to be loyal to my father, so it’s best not to trust them.”
We trudge through the sand, the oasis looming closer, but still far away. It’s dusty and hot, dehydration has started to settle in my bones. I try to keep my eyes off of Hildi—the long lines of her neck, the way her leather pants hug her hips—several yards away, but I keep getting drawn back to her over and over again.
“I guess what I was trying to ask, is what’s going on with you? You seem extra down.”
I look at the small girl next to me. Ever the optimist? “We’re in Hell, Liz. Barely scraping by as we enter these twisted games my father has created.”
“We’ve been successful so far.”
I grimace. “You’re right, we have, and that’s one of the things that makes me uncomfortable. It’s been too easy.”
“You think that’s been easy?” she asks incredulously. “I guess you don’t have the regrets of making out with an evil witch in the last circle.”
Thankfully, I’d been locked in a cell, or Gods knows what regrets I would have had.
A slight breeze wafts by us, cooler and a little refreshing. Hildi looks back in question and my stomach flips.
“The longer we’re here, the more my father can hone in on our weaknesses. Each circle is going to get harder; more draining and more personal.” I hold Elizabeth’s eye. “It’ll definitely get more dangerous.”
As if my father is listening, the desert gives way to a lush garden. All around us are leafy trees, the sound of rushing water, and the scent of flowers. A building emerges from the brush, painted a cool white with a thatched roof. It’s instantly thirty degrees cooler, and the sweat dries on my skin. I glance around warily and see a man coming through the front door holding a tray of refreshing pink drinks. He smiles welcomingly.
“I thought you said it would get more dangerous,” Elizabeth says, her face brightening at the scene. She skips ahead and takes a drink, gulping it down quickly.
Damn, my father is good.
19
Hildi
The drink is welcome after the long walk in the desert, as is the shade and break from the sun. My skin feels dried-out. My throat dusty and sore.
“Please, come inside,” says the man who offered us the drinks. He’s young and handsome, wearing a white suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else but perfect on him.
The apprehension I felt crossing the desert doesn’t fade as we go inside, even though luxury is everywhere I look. Rupert and Armin are close by, ever alert. Elizabeth spins, taking in the grandeur, her pink hair shining. Luke is the only one that hesitates at the door, concern etched on his angular face. When he notices me watching him, he gives me a tight grin before walking across the room.
“Welcome to the Desert Palace, a place of rest and respite.”
“This isn’t the third circle?” Armin asks, looking around. His eyes flit over a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and the guests sitting at a bar across the room. A full spread of food has been set out on a long banquette. Fruit, meats, cheeses, bread, and many desserts. There’s so much sugar I can smell it in the air. The back wall is open, leading to what looks like a patio and pool deck. Everywhere else we’ve traveled in this realm has had an ancient feel. This one is decidedly modern.
“There are many paths through the Inferno, some carrying you to places of pain, others to pleasure. The Palace has long been a place of rest and relaxation. We’re aware of how tenuous traveling the Dark Lord’s realm can be. Take a moment to recharge before heading back into cruel reality.”
“I could use another night’s rest,” Rupert says. He’s been worn out since we pulled him from the Lust Circle.
Elizabeth walks up with another drink in one hand and a bunch of grapes in the other and says, “Same.”
“What about Miya?” I ask, feeling like we’re being swayed from our mission. “Shouldn’t we get to him as soon as possible?”
“Miss,” the man says, giving me a reassuring grin, “if I dare say so, you look like you could use a bit of a break. Outside of the Palace, nightfall will soon set. The desert is no place to be after dark. I suggest you leave in the morning to continue your search for your friend.”
Armin rubs the back of his neck. “We’re no good to Miya if we’re exhausted.”
I grimace. There’s no doubt in my mind that everyone is worn out. I know I am, and the walk through the desert didn’t make it any better. I look across the room at the lanky blond by the bar.
“Luke?” I ask, calling out to the Nephilim, “what do you think?”
He grabs a drink off the tray of a passing waiter. “I think we’re damned if we do or damned if we don’t.”
Armin slides a hand behind my back. “It’s okay to take a minute,” he says, uncharacteristically. “We’re in a war, not a battle, and every soldier needs a reprieve.” He kisses my forehead. “Even if it’s just for a night.”