HAPTER 23

Mimi

The directions on the map led them to the Tijuca Forest, located smackdab in the heart of the city, not too far from the smart beach districts along the coast. Rio was a wonder, Mimi thought. Where else in the world could you go so quickly from the glass towers of a modern financial district to a lush tropical rain forest?

In the cab up to Barra da Tijuca, Kingsley studied the carefully drawn map again. "It looks like there's some sort of cabin in the woods next to a waterfall. That must be where they've brought her."

Do you think she's still alive?" Mimi asked.

Kingsley didn't answer at first. He just folded the note back into his pocket. 'They kept her alive for over a year, that much we know. If they were going to kill her, why would they wait so long?"

"I have a bad feeling about this," Mimi said. "Like We've come too late." The note had been dated four days ago. The little girl's words echoed in her mind. Bad people. They took her away.

The cab driver took them to the parking lot by the entrance near the Cascatinha de Taunay waterfalls, which was as far as he could take them. The parking lot was a small plateau ringed by the tallest trees Mimi had ever seen. They had a panoramic grandeur, the kind of natural beauty you only saw in movies, so tall and green and wide they looked unreal. She stepped out of the cab and took a deep breath of the clear mountain air. It almost had a taste'like dew and sunshine mixed with an earthy green smell. Mimi looked around, there were several decent-looking trails, but they disappeared sharply up the mountain, twisting away to what looked like some sharp rocks. It looked like it would be a pretty arduous trek, no matter what, and she cursed her vanity once more. If only she had worn the regulation shoes. She was never going to make it up that trail in her high-heeled boots.

There were several battered-looking Jeeps whose drivers were trying to entice the small groups of day-trippers and hikers to hire them for the day. But Kingsley had read Mimi's mind and nixed the idea before she could even suggest it. "No, let's not put anyone else at risk," he said. "Silver Bloods think of humans as sport. A guide would only make our mission more vulnerable."

Fine, she thought. It's been forty-eight hours since we left the hotel. Forgive me if I want to ride instead of hike. Even vampires got exhausted if you pushed them too hard. Meanwhile, the Lennox brothers had found a naturalist guide.

"Fastest way to the hidden falls?" The guide was so deeply sunburned his skin was mahogany. He had a British accent, and explained that he was part of the Natural Geographic Society.

"Best way is probably up the Pico trail; there's an unmarked path through the woods that you can follow through the jungle. But it's a pretty strenuous climb. Sure you don't want to hire one of the Jeeps? The Taunay falls are right here. They're just as spectacular.... No? All right, then, good luck. Park closes at sunset, so make sure you're back here by then."

Mimi looked down at her feet. She knew what she had to do. She sat on a fallen log, took off her boots, and chopped off the spike heels with her blade, wincing a bit at the destruction. Then she put them back on. Much better. She took a big gulp of water from her plastic bottle, wishing not for the first time that she was on that beach in Capri.

"Catch?" Kingsley said, throwing her something.

It was a small bottle of coconut water. "What's this for?" she asked, pressing down on the tab. She took a sip. Surprisingly refreshing.

"Found it at the gift shop," he said. "I know it's not a limoncello, but I hear it's really good for you."

Why did he always seem to know what she was thinking? She was annoyed and grateful at the same time, a strange combination of feelings. They set a quick pace, soon leaving most of the other hikers on the main trail behind, and reached the mountaintop in short order. The air was so quiet, it was like entering a sort of natural church. From the top they could see all the way across the city, down to the coastline. It was a magnificent and awe-inspiring view.

"this must be that path the guide was talking about," Kingsley said, leading them through the shrouded greenery to the other side of the hill. "I think I can hear the water."

Mimi stopped and listened. She heard it too: a rushing, whooshing sound, just slightly audible and probably miles and miles away. Walking downhill was easier; they were almost gliding, one of the advantages of the vampire agility. They hiked in silence into the dark, desolate heart of the jungle, trusting the map to lead them. The heat was oppressive and overwhelming, the air so humid it was almost like breathing underwater.

The dense vegetation was primordial, the tree roots looking like the claws of an immobilized beast, the sky completely covered by a canopy of green, and everywhere, the rustling sound of animals in flight. Mimi glimpsed one or two of the wildly colored macaws, but was disappointed she didn't see any monkeys.

Finally they came to a clearing that opened up to the hidden waterfalls, just as the map directed. A torrent of water ran down through rocks, an elemental, awe-inspiring majesty rushing down to a swirling river that ribboned through the jungle.

"According to the map we'll have to cross the river to get to the bank on the other side," Kingsley said, untying his laces and removing his shoes. The Lennoxes were already in the water. Their nylon pants were unzipped at the knee, and they carried their backpacks over their heads. Kingsley did the same, except he also removed his T-shirt, showing off his broad chest, tanned and smooth. When had Kingsley had time to work on his tan? Mimi wondered.

Well, at least she wouldn't have to wear her uncomfortable shoes anymore. Even with the heel surgery, they didn't provide adequate support. She kicked them off and stripped down to her camisole and underwear, and slipped into the water, holding her bag over her head. The water must have come from a mountain spring, because it was cold, almost freezing, but it felt wonderful after almost two days of walking around a hot city without a proper shower. The river current was strong and threatened to wash Mimi away. She used every inch of her muscles to make it to the other side. When she reached the shallow end, Kingsley held out his hand and pulled her up, but she lost her step and fell into his arms, her body crushing momentarily against his.

Mimi blushed at the unexpected intimacy, and to her surprise found Kingsley looking slightly embarrassed as well. For all his talk and flirting, he handled himself like a true gentleman.

"Sorry about that," he said, straightening up.

"Nothing to worry about." Mimi smiled a smile that said no one could resist her in a wet camisole, not even the great Kingsley Martin. But her breezy facade was just that, a fa?ade, because she felt a spark pass between them when Kingsley touched her. Something that she didn't want to acknowledge right then, or ever, but she felt a connection to him... and not just that, a desire, quite unlike her usual voracity for human familiars: those red-blooded toys that she disposed of at will (she'd already left two of them back at the hotel).

No, this was something deeper, stirring something inside her.... A memory, perhaps? Had they known each other in a prior lifetime? And if so, what had happened between them? Nothing? Everything? She didn't have time to dwell on it, though, because the boys were already scrambling up the edge of the bank.

She removed her clothes from the waterproof pack and began to dress, averting her eyes from Kingsley, who was doing the same.

"We shouldn't be too far," Kingsley said, checking the map once they were ready.

They made their way through the wilderness until they arrived at a cluster of trees and greenery that created a curtain around a small, wooden dwelling. Not quite a shack but not quite a house either. There was a strange symbol on the doorway, a five-pointed star. The mark of Lucifer. Mimi shivered and noticed that the rest of the team looked tense as well. This would not be as easy as fighting off a gang of drug dealers.

"This is it," Kingsley said. "Force and I will take the front; you two cover the back exit," he ordered.

Mimi followed Kingsley into position as they crept up toward the front door.

"On the count of three." Kingsley nodded. He had brandished his sword. Its silver blade glinted in the sun.

Mimi removed hers from the wire in her bra, the needle unfolding to the full length of her weapon. A sudden image came up: hunting demons through a tunnel of caves, the shrieking and then the silence. A memory? Mimi blinked. Or a projection? Wasn't that Jack's voice? She couldn't be sure. The connection between them was not what it used to be. Focus. Kingsley was counting down.

"One, two..." He nodded to Mimi and she kicked at the door, which opened with a bang.

CHAPTER 24

Schuyler

Jack led Schuyler through the residential streets of the isle Saint-Louis and over the bridge connecting to "Isle de la Cite", where she caught a glimpse of Notre Dame as they flew past the square and into the nearest Metro station.

"Where are we going?" she panted as they jumped the locked turnstiles. The trains had stopped running an hour ago.

"Somewhere we'll be safe," he said as they ran to the very end of the empty platform: Schuyler had become familiar with the aesthetics of the Metro, but she was still struck by how beautiful even something like the subway could be in Paris. The Cite tunnel was lit by Art Deco'style globe lights that curved over the tracks with a charming flair.

There's an old station below this one; they closed it off when they rebuilt the Metro," Jack said, opening a hidden door located at the very end of the station and leading her down a dusty staircase. The station underneath appeared to be frozen in time, as if it had been just yesterday that travelers had waited for steam engines to take them to their destinations.

Schuyler and Jack walked on the old railroad tracks, until the tracks stopped and the tunnels turned into caves leading farther and farther underground. The darkness smothered them like a blanket, schuyler was glad for theilluminata, it was the only way she could see Jack.

The twisted narrow underground paths reminded Schuyler of something she had seen in an old Repository book.

"Is this... "? she asked.

"Lutetia." Jack nodded.

The ancient Gallic city. When they had conquered Gaul, Blue Blood Romans named the place after the marshlands that had surrounded the area. The vampires had built a massive underground network of tunnels below the city. Red Bloods believed that all that was left of Lutetia were the remains of an amphitheater in the Latin Quarter. They did not know that most of city had survived intact, deep down in the catacombs.

Unlike the dungeon underneath the H'tel Lambert, the catacombs of Lutetia were unexpectedly filled with fresh air. They were clean. Protected by some sort of spell, Schuyler guessed. There were no rats skittering in the walls, no smell of sewage and rot.

"Do you think he's still following us?" Schuyler asked, keeping up with Jack. She felt as if her entire being were a tuning fork, vibrating with fear. As they walked deeper into the caves, she found she was unable to pierce the total darkness, even with the vampire sight.

"Hopefully," Jack replied.

Hopefully? As they ran, Schuyler realized the tunnels created a maze, a hundred different corridors leading in a thousand different directions.

"You could get lost in here forever," she said.

"That's the point," Jack replied. "Only the Blue Bloods know the way out. These tunnels are enchanted against the animadverto. Try to remember the way we came. You will not be able to."

He was right. She couldn't remember the way, which was strange and unsettling because having vampire sight was like watching a show on a DVR: you could rewind to exactly the same place and remember everything, every detail in the room, every nuance, every expression on anyone's face, every word that was uttered. So that's why Jack said he hoped Leviathan had followed them, although Schuyler wasn't convinced a mere maze could stop a demon.

"What about everyone we left behind?"

"Charles is there. He won't let any harm come to them," Jack said. "He was keeping an eye on Leviathan while I fetched you from the room. He should be more than a match for the demon."

They ran for what felt like miles underground. Schuyler had no way of knowing where they were, and she hoped Jack knew what he was doing. Schuyler thought her heart might burst from exertion, and her muscles were starting to flag. How much farther could they run?

"Not far", Jack sent. "We are almost to the intersection. Come."

He led them through a narrow tunnel, it was almost like a cut in the rock, so thin and sharp they had to walk sideways, inching along the wall, and finally they stepped into a crossing of some sort, an open space that pinwheeled away to seven different corridors.

"Where are we?"

"Underneath the Eiffel Tower. This is the center of the old city and the beginning of the new. All the tunnels eventually lead here."

"All roads lead to Rome," Schuyler quoted. "Same idea, right?"

"Sort of." Jack allowed a smile.

Schuyler looked around. Carved above each of the seven corridors were symbols that looked familiar. She wondered where she had seen them before, then realized: they had been flashing on the banners of the Chinese junks. They were the emblems of each Great House, in the sacred language.

Above the middle tunnel was a symbol Schuyler carried on her own wrist. A sword cutting through clouds. The archangel's sigil. Also next to each tunnel opening were seven wooden torches leaning against the wall. Jack reached for one and waved his hand above it, making a small white flame appear.

"This is called the breath of God. Any Blue Blood can bring light to the tunnels. C'mon, it's this way to the exit," he said, heading down the leftmost corridor. He lit the way, just as a dark figure came charging out from the other side.

Schuyler almost screamed, but her voice died in her throat when she recognized the man in black. Like Jack, he was dressed in a Venator's uniform.

"Father?" Jack said.

Charles Force nodded curtly. He gave Schuyler the usual distant, contemptuous look that seemed to be reserved especially for her. She wondered why he even deigned to help her when it was so apparent in his every gesture that he could not stand to look at her.

"Good work, Jack. They are behind us, trapped for the moment by an obsido at the southern junction, but it will not hold them forever. Hurry, up the stairs. To the intersection where they cannot cross. Now."

A small door led to a stairway. Schuyler began to run up two, three steps at a time, until she was suddenly pulled downward, away from her companions, by something that had a viselike grip on her legs. She fell against the stone steps, and the shock dealt a severe blow to her head, and she blacked out for a moment.

When she came to, she discovered she was trapped in a dense, gray smoke, and a feeling of intense, voracious joy filled her. It was the enemy's joy, Schuyler realized; they were feeding off her fear: consuming it, devouring it. The fog was impenetrable, solid to the touch, it looked amorphous but it had a physical density, an impossible weight, as solid as the bars of a cage or a prison cell.

Then she heard them: a sound like the whistling of the wind through the trees, or like chalk rubbing on a blackboard the wrong way: piercing. It was accompanied by a strange clicking noise, like the clattering of claws against a surface. Clickclickclack... devil hooves on a rooftop. The Silver Bloods were going to take her. She was surrounded and overwhelmed. No. She would not give in to despair; she would fight... but with what? She had to stay awake, couldn't give in to the heavy drowsiness that was overtaking her.

Then she saw the eyes shining in the darkness, their otherworldy, ominous, crimson gaze, eyes brimming with hellfire itself. Leviathan had come to finish what he had started. A blazing light cut through the smoke. At first Schuyler thought it was the torch, but then she saw it was a sword. It was completely unlike any sword she had ever seen before. Her mother's sword had shone with a bright white flame: as pure as ivory and as beautiful as sunlight. This blade was different. It was almost the same color as the smoke: a dark gray edged with silver, and there were terrifying black marks on it. It looked less like a sword than an ax, rough-hewn and primitive, with a battered leather holster for a scabbard.

"Schuyler, run?" Jack bellowed. "GO!" He slashed his ugly blade across the creature, or was it more than one? Was it just Leviathan or more than that?

The monster screamed in pain, and now Schuyler could feel its fear. Saw the reflection of what it saw in its eyes.

Because Jack had transformed. He was no longer there. Only Abbadon. Schuyler did not want to turn around. Did not want to see what Jack had turned into, but she caught a glimpse of the black fire that surrounded him, that lit up his image and made him glorious and terrible, like a vengeful, wrathful god. Frightful and awful to behold, a power that was not of this world, not of this kind.

Schuyler would not want to admit it, but Abbadon didn't look all that different from Leviathan, the demon that had sprung from the earth. But she couldn't think about that now.

Instead, she ran.