"Constantine already knows where they are. He's known since the extraction." Rhadamanthys met Diego's glare without flinching. "He hasn't moved against them because Hades is there."
"Then why do we need to go at all?" Lorenzo asked. "Why not have Hades bring the seal here?"
"Because if Hades leaves, those kids are fair game," I answered.
Rhadamanthys nodded. “We’re playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. We’re in the endgame now. We must be careful. Every move of a piece across the board means sacrificing another.”
"How long do we have?" Lorenzo asked.
"We need to leave now while I can still shield you." Rhadamanthys set his cup down and stood.
“We’re ready.”
I stood up. The movement made my head swim, but I ignored it. "What about you?" I nodded to Diego, Jasper, and Eight.
Diego and Jasper exchanged a glance. “This is the end of the road for us,” Diego said carefully. “We’ve got our own adventure to go on now, thanks to Eight.”
I nodded. It was better that way. Eight had seen enough violence for one lifetime. Better that Diego and Jasper get her somewhere safe.
Diego swore under his breath and crossed the room. He pulled Lorenzo into a rough hug, then me. "Don't die, you stupid bastards."
"We'll try not to," Lorenzo said.
Jasper stood and nodded. "Udache."
Coming from him, that was practically a blessing.
Eight climbed down from the stairs. She walked straight to me and held out her small fist. I bumped it with mine. She did the same to Lorenzo, then climbed back up to watch us from between the rungs.
Ten minutes later, westood on the porch with our bags.
Florica appeared in the doorway. She looked me up and down, then grabbed my chin and turned my head to examine the eyepatch. She clicked her tongue.
"Mulo," she muttered. "You walk with death now."
"I've been walking with death for a while."
"No. Before, you carried death for others. Now it walks beside you. In you." She released my chin and pressed something into my hand. A rosary. The beads were worn smooth from years of use, and the cross at the end looked heavier than it should be. "My grandmother's. She wore it through three wars and died in her sleep at ninety-seven."
"I can't take this—"
"You can. You will." She tapped the cross with one weathered finger. "Twist here.”
I did as she instructed and flinched when a plume of fire shot out of the bottom. My eyes widened, and I looked to Florica for an explanation.
“God protects you,” she explained. “Fire helps.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
"You want to survive this, Mulo?” she asked, voice firm. “Then pray like a saint and fight like the devil.”
I swallowed the tightness gathering in my throat and nodded. “I will.”
She grunted her approval and looked at Lorenzo. "And you. Keep him alive. You owe my nephew that much."
"I’ll get him out alive or die trying," Lorenzo said.
She snorted. "If you die down there, I will find you in hell and make you wish you stayed dead." She stepped back into the doorway. "Now go. Before I change my mind about helping you."
