Belador Cosaint by Sherrilyn Kenyon
Once that was done, they moved on.
What was the Keith up to and what did he expect her to do? If he'd planned on her staying in the room, he would have locked the door, right?
She stepped over and tried the door.
It pulled inside a half inch.
That was enough for her to deduce that she could leave the room. In fact, maybe that was the point.
How was she supposed to know without a playbook?
Quinn had said they were entering a different realm.
She started using logic to work her way through this puzzle.
The Keith had to invite a guest. Said guest had to wait for an audience and had to prove their worthiness. Now Quinn was gone, the room had changed and the door was open.
What did all that say?
The Keith enjoyed toying with people.
Fine. She'd play because sitting here wondering what happened to Quinn would drive her crazy.
When battling any opponent, the best strategy was to first determine their goal, then figure out what prize they hoped to win. Once their motivation was clear, you could ferret out your opponent's weakness.
Everyone had a weakness.
What did the Keith want?
She wouldn't be able to answer that until she left this room.
What was his weakness?
She had no clue.
So much for figuring out a strategy. She moved on to survival. What could she use as a weapon? Tearing up furniture or destroying any part of the room might land her in a dungeon.
A real dungeon.
On a hunch, she opened the tall armoire that now stood against the wall opposite the bed and was also covered with artwork depicting carnal pleasure.
She was starting to see a theme in the Keith's thinking.
She found a man's armor and a robe that would likely fit Quinn, but it would drag on the floor if she wore it. Sliding the robe forward, she exposed a set of cubbyholes with lacy underwear, a thin sleeping gown and five sheer scarves as long as her leg. Each scarf was in a different iridescent color.
She bent to a low cubbyhole and withdrew two of them, a butter-yellow one and the other a glowing, pearl white. Running her hand across the sleek material, she closed her eyes thinking about how this would feel if Quinn dragged the scarves across her naked skin.
Standing up quickly, she grumbled, "What the hell, Reese?"
She faced the mother of all insane situations and her mind went to sex?
Maybe she shouldn't take the scarves.
They can be used as garrotes for strangling someone or tying them up, she reasoned and shoved them into her vest pocket.
Then froze.
Vest? For that matter, when had her button-down blouse turned into a billowy shirt?
Walking over to a standing mirror in the corner, she took in the cream shirt with extra-full sleeves, cinched at her wrists. The vest had a stiff collar that stood around her neck and flared open at each lapel. Intricate designs she didn't recognize had been embroidered in gold over the black leather. Her long black pants of thin material had a similar fullness, but the pant legs were tucked inside boots that laced up to mid-calf.
Yep, definitely time to panic.
The Keith might just be having some fun in his own twisted way, but this was starting to be too much.
She slashed out with her feet in a series of kickboxing moves.
Good flexibility for fighting.
What if she had to run?
She looked around in the armoire and under the bed. No more shoe choices.
Where was the bathroom? Only one door and she was fairly certain it opened into a hallway. Or it had at one time.
Considering the era of this castle, she didn't want to know what they'd offer for a bathroom and just said a quick thanks she didn't need one.
Releasing a rush of air, she prepared to leave.
At the door, she drew it open just enough to stick her head out. The hall extended left and right with torch sconces lighting both directions. Both ends of the hall were identical. On each end, a set of two steps led to a narrow landing where a guard stood next to an arched wood door painted red.
The Keith had a thing for red.
She hoped it wasn't an omen about getting bloody.
Regardless of which way she went, she had to get past a guard.
This called for diplomacy.
Quinn had told her to be on her best behavior. She would not insult the guard no matter how much he argued with her.
Closing the door behind her, she walked to the right.
In the first few seconds, the hallway seemed longer than it had upon first glance. Looking back, the door to her bedroom and the door at the opposite end with the second guard were fading out of sight.
She'd only gone fifteen feet. Why did it look more like seventy?
Facing forward, she made the decision to keep her eyes on whatever was in front of her. Up ahead, the guard wore an armored chest piece, leather pants and boots. He had that weird head with the horn and had to weigh over three hundred pounds with no flab.
He held a shield in one hand and a wicked looking sword in the other.
When she finally got within twenty feet of the guard she had to pass, she said, "I'm looking for the kitchen. Can you--"
He bent his knees and leaped down with a bellow. He covered half the distance between them when he landed and swung his sword in a high arc.
"Oh, shit." Reese flipped to the side to avoid being slashed in half. She yelled, "What the hell? I'm a guest."
Clearly, he hadn't been informed, because he whipped the sword up high to swing it again.
Screw manners.
She was in save-my-ass mode right now and lunged around behind the guy.
He looked like a body builder left in the gym too long and all those muscles had pulled his body tight so he had no flexibility. He couldn't continue twisting as quickly as she ran circles around him. She kept up the defensive measure until he finally stopped, looking confused.
Bad move, buddy.
She slammed her boot heel into the back of his knee. His leg folded and he hit the ground face-first with a howl of pain.
"Ha!" She shoved a fist in the air.
The guard burst into tiny sparks then disappeared, leaving his shield and sword that had fallen to the floor.
She did a quick look around.
No other guard was anywhere nearby because the opposite end of the hall had blurred out of existence.
The Keith was one seriously mental guy.
Snatching up the shield, she lifted the sword that had been a heavy broad sword, but was now a finer piece of craftsmanship. It fit her hand nicely and had perfect balance.
Had she chosen the correct direction to take from the room?
Only one way to find out.
Covering the last twenty feet to the door at the end, she climbed two steps to the landing where the guard had been on duty.
"Now what?"
The door opened on its own.
Chapter 23
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Reese used the tip of her sword to push the door open wider, surprised when it easily swung all the way into the next area.
That was the end of the good news.
On the other side of the threshold, it looked like a bunch of mirrors were reflecting an arched hallway so the image repeated over and over. It was all brightly lit from above.
She poked her sword across the threshold.
The part of the blade that crossed through vanished.
Cursing softly, she lifted her chin and stepped through the doorway.
The minute she crossed over, the multiple mirror look was gone, replaced by a beautiful enclosed courtyard with four white, marble statues that made her think of Michelangelo's masterpieces. Each of them was a foot taller than Quinn and they'd been placed on a raised platform in the middle of a fountain.
The fountain was in the center of a circular patio made of smooth stones.
If she knew her art history better, she could probably identify the statues, all men without a fig leaf in sight, and they stood facing out. Intermittent water spewed up from different spots in the fountain, sometimes splashing the two-foot-tall retaining wall built of sparkling stones.
If those streams of water started dancing in sync, she wouldn't blink an eye at this point.
If those statues became animated and attacked her, she would do her best to kill them.
The patio area had to be seventy feet across, bordered all the way around by a two-level structure the same white as the statues. Vines twisted around the columns and sprouted purple flowers the size of her hand. Walkways with railings went all the way around the second level of the circular enclosure, mimicking the lower level where a walkway also ran the perimeter of the area. Intermittent columns supported the upper balcony walkway.
Arched doors had been placed every ten feet along both the upper and lower walls. All black, except for one gold door on the lower level, directly across from where she stood.
Was that her next passage to access?
Could it be as simple as walking over and opening it?
Not a chance.
She moved forward slowly, keeping her eyes on the vegetation, the structure, anything that could be a threat.
"You have one opportunity to reach the gold door," the closest statue facing her said in a smooth voice.
Reese lifted her gaze until she had to bend her neck to see him. "Do I have to fight you?"
"No."
"Do you know where my friend Quinn is?"
"Yes."
"Are you going to tell me?"
"No."
Like that surprised her? "What can you tell me? We're trying to save a young girl's life and we're losing time."
"Time is not relevant here. If you depart this realm it will be the same moment in time as when you entered."
That sounded great.
Wait, he'd said if.
She felt a sense of relief that they weren't losing ground on finding Phoedra while here. That was encouraging, but she still needed to figure out what the hell the Keith wanted from her and if Quinn was with him or out here somewhere.
Standing in the center of the patio, she counted a total of ten doors on the top level and ten on the bottom.
She had a bad feeling about those black ones. "Sir?"
The statue's bored expression never changed. "You have been informed. What more do you require?"
Informed?
Don't snap at the statue that can help.
Offering a smile, which seemed stupid when talking to a chunk of rock or marble or whatever he was made of, she said, "If I go through that gold door, will I find the Keith?"
"You will not receive an audience unless you earn it."
She sighed. "So I've heard. How do I earn an audience?"
"By surviving all attempts on your life."
Doors flew open on the top level and demons of all types stepped out, took a look around, then down.
At her.
The energy in her blood churned, sending out the equivalent of demon pheromones.
Quinn had said not to use her powers in the hotel, but what about here?
She should have asked Stoneface.
Screaming, the demons leaped over the edge, landing hard on the ground. One broke his leg. That was promising.
She jumped to the outer ledge of the fountain and ran around the pool with her back to the statues, hoping he hadn't lied about not fighting her.
"Here goes nothing." She reached for her medallion.
It wasn't there.
Oh, hell.
When she reached halfway around the fountain, she dove at the first demon, slamming her shield at his head. It cracked faster than an egg. Spinning into a living dervish, she kicked and slashed her way through the first seven. Every one of them burst into a cluster of sparks before disappearing.
This felt like a ... video game.
One of the demons raked a claw across her back. Shit, that hurt.
Okay, not a video game at all. The Keith was not kidding around.
She slashed the demon's arm, cutting it off clean. When he stopped to look at the stump, she sliced the sword across his neck. There went his head.
All her hours of training to fight with anything she could get her hands on were paying off. But that had been for defeating the unexpected demon.
Not to become a video game avatar.
Two demons left.
One crawled toward her with a broken leg.
She ignored him for the one that had been stalking her from behind. Demonic energy rushed through her body, carried on a tidal wave of furiously pumping blood.
Her back burned from the claw wound.
Nothing she could do for it right now.
She took two steps toward the crawling demon and heard the swoosh sound of the stalker making a leap.
Spinning around, she dropped to her knees and shoved the sword blade up, hitting him under the breastbone and destroying his heart.
Nasty smelling blood should be raining down on her, but the same crazy splash of little fragmented sparks erupted and he was gone.
Breathing hard as she stood up, Reese started to leave when a claw cupped her ankle. She'd forgotten him.
Twisting hard, she sliced off the demon's head.
"Eleven for me. The Keith, zip," she whispered, trying to build up her confidence to open that golden door.
Casting a quick look at Stoneface, she could swear he smirked at her.
Evidently men were jerks as statues, too.
When she got close to the door, it clicked and began to slowly open.
This might feel like a game, but the bleeding wound on her back was burning even worse now. She couldn't even recall what kind of demon had clawed her, so she had no idea if she would die soon or heal.
What are you thinking? Without the medallion, you have zero chance of healing.
"Well that's encouraging," she muttered. "Good thing I didn't become a doctor with that fatalistic bedside manner."
This time she didn't even look into the open space on the other side of the door. Might as well avoid whatever mindfuck the Keith had put in place. Instead, she stepped through to find herself in a grassy area with three paths.
"Oh, come on." Sweat dripped into her eyes.
The paths were all smooth, stone walkways that turned into long suspension bridges.
Moving forward carefully, she found a boulder taller than she was and climbed up to take a better look.
One bridge stretched over a burning volcanic pit. While she studied the structure of linked metal sections, flames shot up all around it and even through the slats she'd have to walk over.
The next crossing hovered above a glacial valley of ice-capped sharp mountains. Thousands of icy tips spiked up everywhere. As she watched, one of the spikes jutted up with no warning and broke off, crashing across the swinging walkway and knocking it sideways.
Lovely.
The last bridge appeared to be a swinging footbridge made of ropes, with wood slats for the walkway. It stretched over a beautiful canyon where a river ran peacefully a thousand feet beneath it.
Clearly, that's a trap.
But she doubted any of them would be a cakewalk.
Had Quinn gone through this same gauntlet?
Would he have had his powers? No. Even if he did, he wouldn't use them in the Keith's realm. Had he survived? Was he lying somewhere bleeding to death?
Focus! She'd think about Quinn later if she survived. One of them had to make it through to help Phoedra. She didn't want to die, but if it came down to one of them, she hoped it was Quinn who survived, so Phoedra had a father.
Stalling would not make this easier and the wound on her back continued to ache. A
Whipping the sword back and forth, she warmed up her wrist.
"Okay, paradise, what have you got?" Reese started walking forward at a steady pace, alert to everything that moved.
When she reached the bridge, she took a tentative step.
The bridge didn't try to eat her.
There you go. Think positive.
The bridge had originally looked about a hundred feet long, but a quarter of the way across, something shifted. Now it stretched as long as a football field ... or two. She picked up her pace.
The sky changed from beautiful blue overhead to dark storm clouds gathering.
Was that a sign for her to hurry-the-hell up?
She needed Phoedra, who played way more video games than she did, but Reese would never want the girl to be in this place.
She started running, but lightning and rain immediately bombarded her. Then came the ice. She lifted the shield to protect her head from frozen water bullets the size of golf balls.
Her shield cracked.
She ran three more steps and the shield split completely in half, each part falling into the gorge. She tossed the handle in after it.
Below her, the peaceful river now rolled into a raging blast of flash flooding. Waves ripped trees loose and dragged them along in the river.
She slipped and slid down to her knees on the water-drenched wooden slats, then fought her way back up, clinging to the sword.
Without that one weapon, she seriously doubted her chances of reaching the next doorway.
Lightning struck the bridge behind her, setting it on fire.
Reese ran with all she had, taking the brunt of the ice balls battering her body. She tucked her head to protect her face as the hail hammered her scalp and popped her arms. She was almost to the other side when the bridge gave way from behind and slipped out from under her.
Nothing but air.
She lunged for the rope railing, snagging a link with one hand and clinging with all she had when her full body weight yanked her down. She flew toward the mountain, clinging to the ropes with one hand and trying to grab on with the hand holding the sword.
For a second, she almost let the weapon go out of fear of falling, but gripped it tighter and instead looped her arm around a wad of ropes. Muscles burned and the shoulder bearing most of her weight felt as if it might pull out of the socket.
Wind whipped her outward, then slammed her back against the rock wall, rattling her teeth. Her fingers slipped. She kicked wildly for a foothold.
"Here, give me your hand," called from above.