Lost in Time (Blue Bloods 6)

“If you go after her, I cannot guarantee your safety,” Catherine said. It was too late to argue, however, for as they turned a corner, they had to quickly back away, finding the next passage filled with trolls. Their disappearance had not escaped notice for long. Schuyler had never seen creatures like this before. They were wild and feral, and they sniffed the air, looking for clues.

“Too late—we’ve got to go now,” Catherine said. “We’ll take the underground path toward the gate. Once we reach past it, they won’t be able to follow.”

The trolls rounded the next corner and made guttural noises to each other; then one of them let out a long and powerful ear-shattering scream.

“That’s the alarm. In a second we’ll have demons here too, and Croatan,” Catherine said, pushing them down toward an underground path. “We need to get through the gate.

Now.”

Schuyler and Dehua had no choice but to follow, and their speed took them quickly through the narrow passage until they reached an opening. They ran toward what looked like a huge fortress that blocked the whole sky. It looked as if it was made of sheer rock, impenetrable; less than a gate and more like a mountain made of granite.

“Where’s the gate?” Schuyler panted.

“That is it,” Catherine said. “It only stops the demon-blooded. We’ll be able to pass.” She shoved the girls toward it.

Schuyler thought she would hit the firmament, but instead she passed through what felt like a field of cobwebs, a fluffy cotton gauze. Then she was through and standing on a hard stone floor, with a transparent wall behind her. She could hear their voices.

“NO!” Dehua said. “I’m not leaving here without my sister!”

The trolls were a breath away, their grunting language ugly and harsh. Beyond them was a piercing scream, the sound of a woman dying. Schuyler felt her blood run cold.

That was Deming’s voice, and soon Dehua was screaming as well—a shriek that shook the heavens. “My sister!”

“Schuyler—help me!” Catherine called, and through the wall, Schuyler saw the gatekeeper push the Venator through the gate. She reached for Dehua on the other side, and together they were able to pull the screaming twin to safety, the three of them falling on the floor as the trolls thumped against the gate and a demon howled.

But the gate held. The strength of the angels kept the creatures on the other side for now. The trolls crashed against it, but it was no use. Dehua fell to the ground, weeping.

Schuyler wanted to weep as well. She tried to comfort the girl and put her arms around her, but Dehua pushed her away roughly.

Catherine pressed her hands against the wall and muttered an incantation. The vision of the trolls disappeared and the wall turned solid, as the Gate of Promise closed.

Now that she was out of the glom, Schuyler looked at her surroundings. They were in a small stone room and the ceiling was pointed. She recognized the shape of the space even from the inside as one of the Giza pyramids. It was just as she’d thought; the Gate of Promise couldn’t have been in a more prominent or popular area of Cairo. It had been right in front of her all along.

THIRTY-TWO

The Duke of Hell

According to Mimi’s internal clock, it had been almost a month since they had arrived in the underworl

d, and since then nothing had changed, nothing had happened. She did not understand what Kingsley wanted from her—it looked like the answer was nothing, and her ego was suffering a terrible beating. Oliver was increasingly restless, and if they stayed any longer they would never find their way back to the surface.

They would get used to the air down here; their souls would begin to mesh with the fabric of the place. It was time to go.

Mimi swallowed her pride and made an appointment with the consigliere’s office so she could have time alone with Kingsley. She lived in his home but he was never there, and he never sought her company. She was tired of being a neglected houseguest. If he didn’t want to talk about it, then she would.

She could not play the waiting game any longer. There was the Coven to think about; she had responsibilities to the larger community and not only to the indulgences of her heart. She did not know what to expect anymore, and if Kingsley did not feel the same about her, well then—she would just have to deal.

Kingsley sat behind a long ebony table. He looked amused to see her when she entered. “How formal of you, Force. I’ve got to admit when I saw your name on the calendar I was taken aback. If you’d wanted to talk to me, I am down the hall,” he said as he rested his long legs on the edge of the desk and put his hands behind his head. He rocked back in his chair, infuriatingly casual as usual.

“Right,” Mimi said, sitting rigidly across from him. “Except you’re never home.”

“Hell’s a big place. I’m busy,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

Now that she had his attention, she faltered. She’d re-hearsed her lines that morning, determined to lay the truth on the table; but “I love you” seemed too forward to open with, while “How do you feel about me?” too weak. She couldn’t tell him what she felt, not with him smirking at her like that. It was just too humiliating, and even though she had sworn to herself not to let her conceit or his insouciance get in the way of declaring her love, she abruptly decided that he was simply not worth it. This was a joke. All this time she’d imagined that he had suffered greatly, that he had missed her, and that he would greet her arrival with the open arms that liberated cit-izens showered upon conquering heroes. Nothing could have been further from reality. She stood up from her chair. “You know what, you’re right. This is ridiculous. I’m wasting your time.”

Kingsley leaned forward, almost falling off his chair and losing that cocky demeanor for a moment. He righted himself, but kept his feet planted on the ground instead of swinging them onto his desk again. “Hold on, now. Before you go, I’ve got a question.”

She remained standing, waiting for him to speak.