““Of course, which is why we can’t just take the Box and open it up. Releasing the Beast would be worse than dealing with changelings, which is why I was waiting for you.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “Sarah.”

  I almost choked on my laughter. “Sarah hates me,” I said. “How in the world can I help you with her?”

  “I don’t need you to make friends with her”, Elyse replied. “I need you to get through her. I can’t get near her, you know. All of the things we’ve collected, and we have nothing to protect us. There aren’t supposed to be any true diuscrucis, so neither side has created anything to fight them. I may have the genetics to make me resistant to the Divine, but as you are aware, I’m not impervious.”

  “I was never sure if I took you by force, or by invitation,” I said.

  She smiled, but didn’t offer me a clue. “She can Command me, if she sees me as a threat. These days, she sees everything as a threat, but I don’t blame her for that. Both sides are after the Box, because they believe they are best suited to protect it. The fact is that they would prefer if Landon remains in there with the Beast for all of eternity.”

  “What about the Nicht Creidim?”

  She took another sip of tea, finishing the small cup and placing it off to the side of the mat. “Joe wants the Box. He believes he can use the power to destroy all of the Divine. An ethereal EMP. Considering the energy he could unleash, I think he can do it. He doesn’t realize that it will be more like a nuclear blast than a magnetic pulse. The power will go everywhere, and expose us even more. He’ll destroy the Divine, only to turn us into them.”

  I was beginning to understand my place on the board. I was the Queen to Landon’s King, able to traverse the field while he was pinned down. Sarah couldn’t Command me, because I had been transformed. God still held dominion over all things, and He had put me on this mission, I knew. He wanted me to save him.

  “Okay. Let’s say I agree, and we work together to find Sarah. Let’s say we get close to her. Then what?”

  “Simple. We steal the Box.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. “Steal it? Why? Sarah has more reason to want to free Landon than anyone. We should work with her.”

  Elyse laughed. “Does she? How do you know? She is a true diuscrucis. Her ultimate loyalty will be to herself. Think of what she can do, if she finds a way to harness the power of the Box to her own ends. Power that no one can have without tearing the world apart, even if by accident. No, we need to take the Box.”

  “And bring it where?”

  “Wherever the Beast came from in the first place.”

  I closed my eyes, catching the memories. I had followed his instructions to bring Sarah through the rift. A special rift that was the only link between this world and the one he had been trapped in. You didn’t go to it, you called it and it came to collect you. “I can’t open the rift anymore, and even if I could, it’s a one-way trip.”

  “Not so. The archfiend Gervais has created a permanent connection to the Beast’s original prison. He’s been seeking a means to steal the power that remains there in hopes that it will lead him to a method of taking what is trapped in the Box itself. He doesn’t just want to be the minion of a god. He wants to be a god.”

  Gervais. He had been granted a gift of power from the Beast, which was the only reason he was still standing. Of course, like any good demon he had been given a taste, and now he wanted it all.

  “I can’t get past Gervais, especially now that he has Izak back under his control. Besides, you didn’t say anything about how this is going to help Landon? Even if you could put the power of the Box back into the Beast’s prison, Landon will still be trapped with him.”

  “Do you take me for a fool, Rebecca? All the information I’ve shared with you has come from a single source. One who has proven their reliability, and whose goals are similar to ours. He’s given me assurances that there is a way to free the object of your infatuation, and to remove the Beast’s power from play.”

  There was silence for a few minutes, while I considered her words. Assurances? There were no assurances among demons, not in anything. Still, I had been guided to this place by something so much bigger than me. How could I have been brought back, only to be led astray?

  “Fine. What’s your offer?”

  Elyse smiled. Was I making a mistake even considering this? “A partnership. You get to use my body to help save the diuscrucis. I get to return the power of the Beast to where it belongs and make things right again. We both get to stop Joe from polluting the world with creatures that shouldn’t be, and Gervais from claiming power that isn’t his.”

  Stopping Joe was one thing. Gervais was a different monster altogether. One that came with an equally powerful slave. “Do you have a plan to defeat the archfiend?”

  “Not defeat, no. A different plan.”

  Chapter 4

  “Do you see him?” Charis asked.

  We were hunkered down behind an ambulance, peering around the corner in search of the gunman that had opened fire on us.

  “No. Maybe he gave up?” I stuck my head out a little more, and a bullet bounced off the hood of the van, nearly ricocheting into my face. I ducked my head back in. “Wishful thinking.”

  The Beast. I knew it was him, though it had taken a little while to realize. It seemed as if every time we played this game the memories returned faster. That I knew who I really was, and Charis knew who she really was.

  Not that it had helped.

  Our power had been his power, and when we poured it all into the Box, we had lost control of it. He was the closest thing to a god here, for real. We were little more than mortals. The only difference was that we couldn’t die, not permanently anyway. He could catch us, have his way with us, destroy us in infinite ways, and we’d always come back.

  There was no way to measure time here. No way to know how long it had been going on. The one thing we’d learned - maybe the only thing we’d learned - was that the longer we stayed alive, the more we remembered. It would take a lot to convince me that was a good thing.

  “We should just let him hit us, and get on with it,” I said. I didn’t really favor the thought of recalling the other countless deaths we had suffered at his hands. Calculated, measured deaths. He was building up the pain the way any good torturer would. The only consolation I could find was that he would run out of ways to slaughter us once a few thousand years had gone by. At least, I hoped he would.

  “Come on,” Charis said. She grabbed my hand and pulled me away, towards a dark alley.

  I tugged against her. “We did that last time,” I said. The memory came back to me, and I shivered. He had eviscerated Charis, and splattered me in her blood before decapitating me. I looked around the street, and led her to the next parked car, bullets pinging off the sidewalk behind us.

  My mind went back to Avriel, the archangel who had spent thousands of years in this place with the demon Abaddon. Time had no real meaning here, but the pain and the memories were real enough to make it meaningful. I could only imagine what he had endured, both while he was in the Box, and after he had been released. All of that torture and suffering, and not only had I extended it for him, but once he was finally freed, I had gotten him killed.

  Of course, Avriel had power of his own. He had said they battled, the demon and him. He hadn’t always lost. We weren’t so lucky.

  “Where to?” she asked. We stayed crouched behind an old Camaro, and I searched the buildings across the street for his position.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “He’s going to come for us soon.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She hadn’t seen it yet, which surprised me. “How much do you remember?” I asked.

  Tears sprung to her eyes in an instant. “Don’t ask me that,” she said.

  I didn’t blame her reaction. “Each time, I remember a little more. Each time, he lets us live just a fraction longer. He wants us to remember. He wants us to relive the pain, over and over again. I remember the last time. It will be over soon.”

  She laughed. A heavy, defeated laugh. “Over? This is never going to be over. You and I both know that. He’ll kill us, and we’ll start again.”

  I peeked out at the buildings across from us again. The longer we lived, the fewer times he could end us. It wasn’t much, but at least it would hurt less.

  “Dante will find a way to get us out,” I said, trying to convince both of us. “Sarah won’t give up either.”

  “Sarah? Don’t try to make me feel better by pinning our hopes on her. You know what she is, and what will happen.”

  I grabbed her arm and pulled her down two more cars, oblivious to the bullets. “It doesn’t have to be that way. She held up when Josette died. She kept it together when Gervais took Izak. She saved everything.”

  Charis turned me around so she could look me in the eye. “I’m not saying she didn’t do a good job, but that was then. This is now. Who’s going to keep her grounded? I don’t have much faith in her being on her own. I’m sorry, love, but that’s the truth.”

  A glint of steel was the only warning. I threw Charis to the side, getting her away from the sword that sliced down towards her head. It wasn’t Ross, but one of his creations, a grotesque clone of Charis, with a twisted and mangled face, covered in bleeding sores. She hissed when the blow came up empty, and jumped at me.

  I was only mortal here, but I still knew how to fight. I sidestepped her punch, grabbed her arm, and brought a knee up into her stomach. I smelled the fetid stench of the air bursting from her lungs, and nearly paused to vomit. Instead, I twisted the arm until it snapped, and shoved her so she was between me and the car. I heard the gunfire, and the body shook while it caught the bullets that had been fired at me. I found Charis on her knees, and pointed to a storefront. We inched towards it, using the creature as a shield.

  It had to be time, I knew. He would be here any second, the pissed-off smile on his face, his anger at being stuck here unable to be contained. He would kill us again, after some kind of torture. He liked to kill Charis first, to make me watch her die. Sometimes he would add my mother, or a child for the two of us. That had been his first effort, and little did he know, it had been the most painful.

  We reached the store, and Charis opened the door and held it for me. Once we were in I dropped the corpse and we scrambled deep enough inside so that the shooter couldn’t get an angle. We would have a few seconds of quiet.

  “There has to be something we can do,” Charis said. “How can our power hold him, contain him, if we don’t have any?”

  That was a new idea. One we hadn’t had before. Was the Beast making a mistake by letting us live for longer periods, or was it intentional?

  “Hold that thought,” I said, as if that could bring it to us sooner.

  “Good morning, children,” the Beast said. He appeared from nowhere in his pinstriped suit and sunglasses, wearing his crap-eating grin and holding his pocket watch. “I’m sorry I’m late. Honestly, I thought my Charis would get you, or at least slow you down. Either you’re getting more resourceful, or I’m getting lax.”

  “Go to hell,” Charis said, spitting on him.

  He was deliberate, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a monogramed handkerchief to wipe the spittle away. “I tried to go to Hell. You stuck me in here instead.” He lifted a hand and clenched his fingers together while twisting his wrist.

  I heard her spine break.

  Charis cried out in pain, and fell to the ground, paralyzed.

  The Beast looked at me, the anger obvious. “You and your bitches.” He drew a line in the air, and her skin spread apart down her arms. She screamed louder, but kept her eyes on him, defiant.

  “You can kill us as often as you want,” I said. “You aren’t getting out of here.”

  He laughed. I hated it. “You’ve said that four times now, and you still don’t remember my answer.”

  I tried to remember that part. “Why don’t you tell me again?”

  He opened up more cuts on Charis’ body, leaving her panting, with tears in her eyes. She refused to look away from him, fighting the pain with her own anger.

  “Do you really think I didn’t make arrangements, kid? As small as your odds of getting me in here were, I’m not stupid enough to chance getting stuck forever. I know how to get out of here. It’ll take me some time, but I have plenty to keep me entertained.”

  He laughed again, while I tried to think through what he had just said. The words were familiar, and now I remembered that he had said them before.

  “Ah, now it comes back to you,” he said. He looked over at Charis, writhing on the ground, a pool of blood below her, and then he looked at his watch. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short.”

  He turned his wrist again, and her stomach erupted in a geyser of blood and guts. I tried to close my eyes, but he didn’t let me.

  “Oh no, kid. You’re going to watch. Every time. I hope it hurts.”

  It did. Every time. I would have thought the repetition would make me numb, but it only made it worse. It was hard enough to watch someone you loved die once. Try doing it again and again, stuck in a twisted Groundhog Day.

  I felt a small sense of relief that she was out of it for another round. “How are you going to do it?” I asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Get out of here. How can you do it? I think you’re lying.” I remembered now. He’d told me he was confident he would get out. He may have even told me how.

  He smiled. “I’m not going to tell you this time. You’re getting the hang of this a little too easily.”

  He broke my neck.

  Chapter 5

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  We were still in her apartment, but we had cleared the tea set, and now we sat on our knees facing one another. She looked comfortable in the position, but my shell’s body was straining from the weight pressed down on it.

  “I’m ready,” she replied.

  We had spent another hour going over ground rules. The most important one was that she needed to lead the way through the warehouse. She had some things she thought might come in handy, so the so-called ‘armory’ was going to be our first stop. Of course, there were things in there that even she wasn’t technically allowed to take, so it was going to be a fun exercise getting out with the stuff. It didn’t help that Joe was already ticked at her for suggesting his plan was foolish. She was certain that if she were caught going rogue, her father wouldn’t have too many qualms about either killing her, or imprisoning her. Fighting the Divine meant having the steel will needed to make those kinds of sacrifices.

  I closed my shell’s eyes and took a deep breath, nervous and unconvinced that Elyse was dealing from a straight deck. There was no better choice though, so I detached myself from him. As always, it was an experience with a measure of pain attached; every part of my soul catching fire at once for just an instant. I felt my complexities fall away from me, and my motivation reduced to only a single directive. Help Landon.

  Elyse was still, the Eye of Third Sight glimmering on her forehead. She was looking at me.

  “Amazing,” she said. “I haven’t seen one outside of a body.” She reached her hand up towards me. “Do you feel that?”

  I didn’t feel anything. Was she touching me? I floated in her direction, a gossamer thread on a puff of air, drawing closer and closer. Her eyes followed me, until I was under her nose, and flowing down her mouth.

  I could have taken her then. I could have settled my soul over hers, and gained her body and mind, but I didn’t. For this first part, she needed to be the driver. Instead, I settled for tapping into her, so I could at least see what she saw. I don’t really know how I did it, or how I knew to do it. In that state it was more instinct than understanding.

  The Korean was still kneeling in front of her, and his eyes began to flutter as he regained himself. I felt Elyse moving. She got to her feet and went over to a wall with a pair of katana mounted to it. She lifted one from the rack, eased it from its scabbard, and returned to the man. She knelt down in front of him, positioning the sword angled up from the ground. Before he could open his eyes, she reached out and pulled him onto it, impaling him through the heart. He died without a sound.

  “He was impure.”

  That was all she said. She didn’t have to explain to me, or make an excuse. He was a means to a more important end; his death was a trifle compared to our needs. On the other hand, was she suggesting that I had made him impure by controlling him? Didn’t that make her impure? Would she commit seppuku once our work was done, or was she as hypocritical as I had found most humans to be?

  She took the body and lifted it, showing a surprising amount of strength in her lithe frame. She held him over her shoulder, careful to keep his blood from getting onto her clothes, and carried him into her bedroom. It was an interesting place, with a foam mattress on the floor and random artwork covering nearly every inch of the walls that the fish tank didn’t occupy; a menagerie of artistic renditions of the naked form, in every style and medium I could think of.

  The north wall had a fireplace, and it was there that she dropped the body with a slight grunt. Only then did she remove the sword. “Less blood this way,” she said, talking me through her actions.

  “The artwork,” I said. I had never spoken to my host before. It felt strange, the words more of a vibration than sound.

  “The human body is an amazing thing. Look around at these works, and consider the years of observation it took to create such masterpieces. The study of every muscle, every movement.” She pointed at one that was little more than a few thick brush strokes on a white canvas. Still, it was undeniably human. “It is easy to explain something in a thousand strokes, but what about in three? I look at these, I study them, and I learn. My strengths and weaknesses, my successes and failures. It is very important to know yourself. The better you do, the more powerful you become.”