“Unless she’s formed some pact with them.”

  Great. So Tabitha might have a god in her pocket, but what in the world could she have promised them in order to use them like that?

  And what the hell did she want?

  That would have to wait until Chloe had more room to think. “If Tabitha took Helen somewhere, she had to leave a trail.”

  She and Ramses spread out, looking through the parking lot, but it wasn’t like following tracks through the mud, and Tabitha hadn’t left any helpful breadcrumbs. They went down the row of rooms, but like most hotels, the Super 10 Motor Court had doors that shut automatically, so no open rooms beckoned to them.

  “A drop of blood,” Ramses called from close to the office.

  Chloe ran that way with her heart turning over, happy for a trail to follow but scared as hell by the blood. Luckily, it was only a few drops that led along a covered walkway and through a gate to the pool.

  “She can’t be that hurt,” Ramses said as they paused. The pool light was on, turning the water a sickly blue-green. Several insects paddled ineffectually near where the light glowed just under the surface. “From the look of things, Tabitha was carrying rather than dragging her.” He pointed to another spot of blood, and Chloe followed. “If Helen’s hurt, she’d be leaving more marks if she was dragged.”

  That spoke to strength again. Tabitha was fairly petite, shorter than Chloe, and Helen would have been head and shoulders above her. Maybe Tabitha had a monstrous ancestor instead of anything godly? Using her own blood or something to grant herself power?

  The trail led to a small pool house, little more than a shed, with a red-and-white striped safety ring hanging on the side that looked as if it had never been used.

  Ramses started toward the wall, but Chloe said, “Wait. They’ve already laid one trap for you where they were sure we would follow.”

  He frowned but nodded and stood behind her, ready to possess her at a moment’s notice.

  She threw open the door.

  And nearly screamed when a long-handled pool brush fell out at her.

  Ramses let out a breath as if he too had nearly spun into action and killed the hell out of some cleaning equipment.

  Chloe brought up the flashlight app and scanned the inside of the shed, though she was certain Helen wasn’t there. When she saw the marks on the wall, she froze. They were the same as from the office in Zile-de-Deyès, the ones that had been part of the portal.

  “On the ground,” Ramses said.

  A folded piece of paper lay neatly beside a bucket of chlorine tabs close to the wall. Chloe nudged it with her foot, and when it didn’t explode, she chided herself and snatched it up.

  “Tag,” it said. “You’re it.”

  What followed read like instructions for opening the portal, an invitation if ever there was one. At the bottom, just to drive the point home, was an obvious smear of blood.

  “It’s a trap,” she and Ramses said together.

  “A big, obvious trap,” Chloe said.

  “Huge.”

  “But we’re going anyway, right?”

  “Of course we are.”

  But not without some serious preparations. Chloe quickly called Fatma’s number. “I need to know how to make things go boom in a hurry.”

  * * *

  Helen had no doubt it would be her turn in the funhouse sooner than expected, though she doubted it would be much fun at all. Once the blue Lamia had gone, she stood, but she’d never get far with her hands bound behind her back, so she leaned on the table and wriggled and squirmed until she managed to pull her legs through her arms.

  She rubbed her wrists raw in the process and almost got stuck halfway. That would have been embarrassing as hell if they’d found her, but thanks to the gods and yoga, she managed to succeed.

  Unluckily, her captors hadn’t left her with anything like a knife to free herself with. The shards of pottery felt too fragile to get the job done. Tabitha or one of the Lamias had also taken the hammer and nails Chloe had given her.

  Then what was that heavy feeling at the top of her boot?

  After a quick peek at the door, she sat again and dug around, finding a lone nail that seemed to have fallen through a hole in her pocket. A small victory, but she’d take it. She did up her boots more tightly while she was at it, then went to work picking at the rope with the nail. It felt as if it might take forever, but when she managed to gouge one thread until it snapped, she felt a smidge of power, and her face hurt a little less.

  She smiled so widely, it hurt. All she had to do was break enough threads, and her power would return enough to snap the rope, heal her, and let justice run down like waters.

  When she heard footsteps, she hurried to the side of the doors and put her back to the shelves, not going to let the opportunity for a sneak attack pass her by. When Tabitha paused just inside the room, Helen reached for her neck, but Tabitha grabbed her with hands like steel and turned with a smile on her face.

  “So predictable. That’s the trouble with you immortals.”

  Helen tried to twist away. She kicked Tabitha’s thigh where the nail wound had been, but it was like smashing her sole against concrete.

  “It’s a strength spell. You’re never gonna break it,” Tabitha said. “But hey, good job on getting your hands around your front. Now you’ll be able to put them up when you say, ‘Oh gods, please stop.’” She laughed obnoxiously, yanked Helen forward, and hoisted her over one shoulder like a sack of grain.

  “Get your fucking hands off me.” Helen squirmed with no effect. She considered trying to stab Tabitha with the nail but doubted it would do any good. And would give away the fact that she had it in the first place. She hid it in her palm instead.

  Tabitha carried her down several hallways, talking over her cries of protest. “Yeah, yeah, get it all out of your system. You’re only making what comes next better for me.”

  The world went topsy-turvy as Tabitha slung her down onto another hard floor. The air rushed from Helen’s lungs as she stared up at a dome made from stone and rusting metal. Shop lights dotted the large space, their powerful glow highlighting dozens of strings crisscrossing overhead. Prisms had been woven into the strands as if a very fancy spider was nesting there.

  Helen didn’t have much time to gawk before Tabitha hauled her upright and forced her into a large metal ring that clasped around her waist. She strained forward, and the ring felt as if it could give, like it might be pieces joined by some kind of stretchy cable. She couldn’t stretch it with her current strength. Another metal bar in the back held her in place like a doll’s stand.

  She breathed hard, rage building in her throat. “When I get out of here—”

  “I’ve heard it all before.” Tabitha looked almost sorry for her but spoiled it with a smirk. She crossed to where the red and blue Lamia fiddled with some kind of altar. The entire room was strewn with magical whatnots, glyphs, and reagents. Helen was starting to wish she’d spent more time listening to Maurice when a shadowy lump from a corner of the room caught her eye.

  The wyvern, unmoving, finally at peace, but she doubted he’d gone easily. Oh, these bastards were going to pay for that.

  The blue Lamia came over and followed her gaze. To Helen’s surprise, she sighed. “Sacrificed to power a human’s strength spell. A waste.”

  Right, it would be the waste of power and not the actual loss of life that saddened her. “Just to get me here?” She managed to keep her voice level.

  The Lamia looked at her curiously. “When either I or my sister could have done it as easily? Yes. She likes to pretend she’s stronger than she is, that one.”

  Helen ground her teeth. “That’s what you’re doing with all the creatures you kidnap? Using their lives to power your magic? Her magic?”

  The Lamia had no expression as she leaned forward. “Until she’s no longer useful, of course.”

  “I imagine sacrificing me and Charybdis will give you all the power you need.”

  “Well, Charybdis might.” The Lamia leaned back, her smile returned. “Look at you putting all the pieces together and even getting some information out of me. Though, it did take you quite a while to figure it out. I’m both embarrassed for you and proud at the same time.”

  Oh, no, their sparring days were done. Helen forced herself to remain expressionless, hoping the Lamia would see they were nothing to each other now, not even hated enemies. She would still have her revenge, but she would feel nothing when she did. “Everyone always said I should kill you. I had lots of reasons not to, but they all seem silly now. You really are a monster. The only true one I ever met.”

  The Lamia’s eyes turned a bit stricken before she shook her head. How could any being have a conscience when their soul was dead? “You’re going to regret saying that.”

  “Is the portal ready?” the red Lamia asked without looking up.

  “Yeah.” Tabitha gestured to another side of the room. Helen recognized those symbols from the office on Zile-de-Deyès, the same kind of portal spell. “I left Chloe instructions on how to open it. We should have enough juice to power it with her.” She gestured at Helen with her thumb before giving her a sneer. “Though who knows for how long?”

  “Shut your mouth, you grubby little shit,” Helen said, her control slipping.

  Tabitha’s face darkened, turning nearly purple.

  The red Lamia laughed. “I’m going to miss you,” she said to Helen over her shoulder.

  “You’re never going to be a true archvillain like that, sis,” the blue Lamia said. “You keep the lovers alive so that they can watch each other die. It’s practically a rule.”

  “And I have missed you.” The red Lamia looked at her sister fondly. “So effortlessly cruel. Well, I suppose I can indulge you since she tortured you by boredom for so long. Okay, bring one of the others. We’ll drain them dry instead.”

  “No,” Helen yelled. “Use me if you have to. Leave them alone.”

  The red Lamia shivered as if beyond delighted. “Even better. We get to hurt you before your love even arrives.”

  Tabitha burst out laughing, as comfortable with evil as any demon in hell. She tinkered with a few more bits and bobs as she neared the door.

  Helen raged against her bonds, stabbing at the inside of the rope with the nail, a red mist covering her sight. The gods could not be this unfair.

  The blue Lamia sidled to a similar contraption as the one that held Helen. “Where did you learn all this stuff, sis?”

  “Here and there. Tabitha researched quite a bit for me. She’s so efficient.”

  “And now you’ve got it all figured out?”

  The red Lamia nodded and glanced around as if surveying a job well done. “All we have to do is snap another soul into this crucible”—she patted the metal ring—“and we can take every ounce of energy they have.”

  “Good.” The blue Lamia darted forward, nearly a blur, and snatched Tabitha off her feet and slammed her into the metal ring, shutting it before Tabitha could even cry out.

  Until the metal ring glowed and sparked. Then she shrieked as if her very molecules were tearing themselves apart.

  Helen’s jaw dropped as the prisms glowed, and the glyphs seemed to twist in place. Those in the portal corner hummed as if charged. It was over in seconds, leaving Tabitha’s body to sag like a broken puppet, her eyes wide, terrified, and her skin as pale as dust.

  “Well, that was uncalled for,” the red Lamia said with a scowl.

  “I was sick of her mouth. Besides.” The blue one stuck her lip out in a pout. “I didn’t like how close you seemed to be getting.”

  “Oh, my dear sister.” The red one smiled and opened her arms. “All is forgiven.” When they embraced though, the red one seemed to be holding her tighter than necessary. “But don’t forget whose plan this was. Next time, ask permission.”

  The blue one broke away with a snort. “Permission. As if.”

  They shared a laugh in front of Tabitha’s corpse. It was just one more thing Helen would remember when getting her revenge.

  Right now, she had other things to worry about. Their portal was powered, and if she’d heard right, Chloe knew how to open it. She and Ramses would know it was a trap; Helen would stake her life on that. They wouldn’t actually fall for it, wouldn’t charge through hoping to outsmart the perpetrators of such an obvious snare.

  Oh, who was she kidding. She’d be doing the same thing, could almost see them coming up with a plan. The idea was marginally better than just charging through. Fractionally. A minuscule amount.

  She fought the urge to sigh and kept stabbing at the rope. The enemy team was down a member, a point for their side. But they still had two magic-wielding Lamias who weren’t even in their fiercest forms. Not to mention any hench-demons wandering about the place.

  Maybe when the portal inevitably opened, Helen could shout, “Don’t bother, save yourselves.”

  Not that they would listen.

  She glanced at the magical apparatus again. There was no doubt something in there that could hold a ghost, too, and she shuddered to think what they could do with a power like Ramses as well as Charybdis.

  She might as well ask. What could it hurt? “What are you going to do with all this power? Destroy the world?”

  The red Lamia gave her a flat look. “Don’t be an idiot. We’d set Charybdis loose if we wanted that.” She slithered closer. “It’s more power, darling. It’s always about power, the threat of a world-ending weapon. The magic will just allow our strikes to be a little more…tactical.”

  Helen thought fast. “World domination?” Like the blue Lamia had said, true supervillainy. “If you can destroy anyone or anywhere in the world, humanity will have to do what you say?”

  “You should rejoice,” the blue one said. “Quite a few of our extraordinary brethren will be on our side.”

  “And the world will become their sanctuary.” The red one tipped her head back and forth. “For some of them, anyway.”

  Those whose power the Lamias didn’t need for their murder machine.

  Helen’s belly went cold. She couldn’t fight a picture of what the world would look like. It wasn’t a vision for the future she’d ever considered, not one she really wanted, but she was curious to see how it would go.

  In the end, she’d never know because she’d either thwart the plan or be dead.

  Or maybe she would see it even then. With the veil between the worlds weakened, the Lamias might be able to punch a hole into the underworlds and have the dead at their disposal like never-ending batteries. At least until the spirits dissolved, forced into actual oblivion.

  She shivered, terrified by the very idea, but when she looked up and met the blue Lamia’s expressionless gaze, she knew it would be useless to reason with them. There was only one way forward.

  She stabbed harder with the nail, feeling a few more strands snap. She jabbed herself in the hands and wrists but kept going, didn’t dare look to see how far she had yet to go.

  The wall in the portal corner began to swirl, the vortex opening, and she stabbed even harder. “Chloe, don’t,” she cried, needing to try. “Stay away, it’s a trap.”

  But the Lamias darted for the portal faster than Chloe could ever be, even with Ramses in charge of the body. The vortex pulsed, and they held their arms out to catch whoever came through.

  Something sailed low between them, far too small for a person. The sound of breaking glass was quickly drowned out by a whomp of displaced air.

  Helen just had time to suck in a lungful before a cloud of pale green gas exploded outward. Enough of her godhood had returned to give her a burst of speed, and she pulled her shirt over her face. Her skin still stung, her eyes burning. She squeezed them closed.

  Gods, the Lamias had to be lamenting their lack of fashion choices at the moment.

  And Helen fell more in love with Chloe by the second.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  All Chloe could do was hope Helen wasn’t in the room when the chlorine bomb went off. Or that she had a little time to prepare. The gas shouldn’t kill her—especially with her godly powers—and it probably wouldn’t kill any supernatural creatures, but it should give everyone a helluva headache.

  As Fatma had said, “We don’t always have to rely on iron and salt. Sometimes, good old chemistry and ammunition does the trick.”

  Though Chloe wouldn’t be messing around with guns anytime soon.

  She and Ramses went in together, him steering the body. If these fools had a ghost trap, it’d just have to grab him out of her. Until then, they were stronger together.

  They stayed low, appearing between two half-snake women who were coughing and gagging and grasping at their faces and throats. Chloe had donned her gloves and wrapped hotel towels around her head, figuring she and Helen had screwed themselves out of any deposit already. She wore sunglasses, hoping that would keep out the worst of the gas already settling toward the floor, heavier than normal air, and seeping toward a large grate in the center of the room.

  Two people were imprisoned in wide metal rings, one slumped, one with its shirt pulled over its head. Gods, what if the slumped one was Helen?

  “Use that anger,” Ramses said in their shared mind as he stabbed at one of the snake women with the golden spear they’d retrieved from the pouch Helen had left in the bathroom.

  Chloe felt that same spark inside her as when her mom had pissed her off. She yanked on it, hoping to raise her godhood, but when she looked hard at the power, it fled like a scared rabbit.

  Ramses scored a gouge to the snake woman with the red-and-black tail. This had to be the Lamia. Or one of a pair because except for coloring, they looked almost identical. The striped one cried out as the spear pierced her snake half, but she didn’t bleed, the wound gaping like dead flesh.