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“He’ll be pissed.”
“I know.”
Kaden flashed a smile. “I’m cool with that.”
“I need to find a way into the Hell realm,” she murmured more to herself than to Kaden.
“What about the necromancer?” Kaden stood beside her now. “Wouldn’t she have access or at least know how to get down there?” The teenager glanced up at her. “How do you get into the lower realm? Is there like a password or something?”
Ana shook her head. “No, a portal is needed and they’re not easy to find.” She stared at the boy thoughtfully. He was right. Francesca should have an inside line on the local portal.
“Wait here. I’ll be back.”
She ran through the hall and was up the stairs before Kaden had even digested her words.
Nico had shifted and run off the moment he’d left the kitchen. Seemed Declan’s wards were meant only for her and the boy. Jaguar warriors didn’t count.
Now would be her only chance.
Her feet glided across the floorboards in silence and quickly she opened the last door on her left and slipped inside. The room was in darkness save for the soft glow of a nightlight that had been left on. Ana felt the heavy vibration of magick that caressed every corner of the room. There was no way the necromancer would be able to call any of her ghoulie friends for help.
Francesca stood near the window, gazing out into the night. Ana cleared her throat. The young woman’s arms were wrapped around her body as if seeking whatever form of comfort she could. Her head turned to the side and her profile was illuminated.
Ana’s eyes strayed to the intricate tattoo that graced the delicate lines of her neck. The colors were vibrant.
Francesca didn’t say a word, not even when Ana took the last few steps until she was beside the woman. Fear, pain, and anger radiated from within her frail body. Ana could taste it. She would use it.
“Your sister is being held in the lower realm.” The necromancer flinched as her words sliced through the silence, but remained tight-lipped.
Ana was fine with that. She had no problem doing the talking.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to get the two of us out of here and you’re going to get me to a portal that leads to the underworld.”
Francesca turned and their eyes locked. Ana saw distrust, but it was overshadowed by something else . . . interest? Good. She was halfway there.
“I’m assuming you have the scoop on the location of the nearest elevator to Hell?” She watched, eyes narrowed, as the necromancer turned and stared out the window once more.
Ana let her fangs slide out and hissed.
“There’s no need for intimidation,” the girl said. “I’ll do it but I want something in return.”
“Yes?” Ana prompted, trying not to sound too impatient, but the urge to act was making her antsy.
The redhead whirled around and squared her shoulders. The jingling of a chain echoed between them and Ana glanced at the heavy rope that had been shackled to her left leg. It was made of iron and was more than adequate as an aid in keeping the necromancer confined.
Francesca pointed to the tattooed collar on her neck. “My life is bound to Samael. I’ll have to deal with the consequence for the rest of my days, but Alex is innocent. The taint of otherworld hasn’t touched her, not really. The only reason Samael was able to get his hands on my sister was because I was fooling with dark arts, trying to impress a stupid date if you can believe it.”
Francesca exhaled slowly and her lower lip trembled. “Promise me you’ll get her out, alive.”
Ana nodded. “I’ll do my best but there are no guarantees.” Her gaze drifted over the young woman. “What will he do when he finds you?”
Francesca’s hand drifted to the tattooed collar against her neck. She started to walk toward the door. “I suppose he’ll fry my ass, and I’m fine with that as long as Alex is safe.” She reached the end of the chain and glanced down. “You able to get me out of here?”
Ana easily snapped the iron rope into two pieces and then pried the anklet loose.
The vampire led the way toward the kitchen and felt a moment of unease when she was greeted by an empty room. But the door was ajar and she slipped out into the dark, Francesca close on her heels.
An owl hooted in the distance and the feel of rain against her skin was welcome. Funny. She hated the rain. “Over there.” She pointed toward the far corner of her property. Ana saw a slash of white through the gloom—his white cotton T-shirt. Kaden was there.
