The Oligarchy are the only ones who speak. They turn to me, lick their lips and hiss: “The new Scala.”
It takes all I have to force my shoulders back and my spine straight. I have to try. I meet the Oligarchy’s gaze head-on. “Yes, I’m the new Scala. And now we’ll discuss how to drive the demons from my homeland.” I turn to Walker. “Bring me the angel Verus.”
The Oligarchy bow. “We cannot allow unauthorized portals at this time, Great Scala. There’s some kind of interference in Group Think. It’s not safe.”
“Really? How’d you like a quick trip to Hell?” I raise my hand, hundreds of igni encircle my palm. I watch the tiny lightning bolts whirl about my fingers.
The Oligarchy bow. “We can allow portals for you, Great Scala.”
“That’s more like it. Walker, go get Verus.”
Walker nods. A portal opens. Its edges blur and waver. Gritting his teeth, Walker steps into the black emptiness and disappears.
I pull open a folding chair and point to the empty seat. “Grab a chair, boys. We’ve lots to talk about.”
The Oligarchy gasp. I’m guessing they aren’t used to a Scala with a backbone. “As you wish, Great Scala.” The Oligarchy pick up metal folding chairs and drag them across the concrete floor with an ear-piercing series of squeaks. I’d probably laugh my head off if I weren’t so freaked out about whatever-the-hell-it-is that just happened to me.
I try to keep a confident pose as I survey the scene. The Oligarchy still drag their chairs around while everyone else stands about, looking googly-eyed with shock. This is crazy. Why am I launching this plan again? Oh yeah, a bunch of tiny lightning bolts told me it was a good idea. I let out a long breath. We’re so fucked.
Lincoln steps up behind me, setting his arms about my waist. His body feels warm and solid behind mine. “May I have a minute, Great Scala?”
“I’m Myla.” As in a person, for the record.
“I see. Follow me, please.” Lincoln slips his hand in mine, guiding me into the small antechamber off the main room. It’s a snug space with dark walls lined pantry-style with food and water. Cots are stacked in one corner and there’s a makeshift kitchen of sorts. The exit to the surface is one huge circular steel portal that looks very, very closed.
Lincoln shuts the door to the main chamber and drags out a cot. My brows arch. What exactly is he up to? The Prince sits down and pats the space beside him. “Let’s talk.”
I raise my hands to shoulder level, palms forward. Frustration twists in my belly. We are so not doing whatever-it-is-he-thinks-we’re-doing right now. “This is no time for chit chat. Hell’s about to break loose. For real.”
Lincoln rests his elbows on his knees. “A few minutes ago, you sucked in enough supernatural electricity to power a universe. We’re not doing anything until I’m sure you’re okay.” He cocks his head to one side, his mismatched eyes filled with concern.
Dammit. I was okay as long as there was something to be pissed about (or in the case of the Oligarchy, bossy to). Now that Lincoln’s acting all sweet and lovey, I start to lose it. My bottom lip quivers. “I’m fine.” My eyes sting. “Maybe.”
Lincoln rises to his feet and wraps me in the mother of all hugs. His arms are warm and roped with muscle, his body firm and comforting. I cuddle my head into his shoulder and start spilling my guts. “This whole thing began because, like a dumbass, I wanted to know who my father really was. Now it turns out that my dad’s an archangel who’s in Hell, getting tortured for all eternity. So that sucks. Then I meet you, get all lovey and—BOOM—I’m the Scala Heir. Which was weird, but hey, the old Scala could have lived another thousand years, so no big deal, right?” I poke Lincoln softly in the belly. “Am I right or am I right?”
He tries to hide a chuckle. “You’re right.”
“Well, he didn’t last a week. Now I’m the Great Scala, which is a very sketchy job description that involves everyone trying to control me.” I sniffle into his body armor. “If I’d just listened to Mom, I’d still be fighting Arena matches, skipping school, and living what now looks like a pretty sweet life before I mucked it up.”
Lincoln rubs my hair in long strokes. It feels really-really soothing. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Myla.”
I loop my arms around his waist. “Maybe after this is all over, we can see if someone else can be the Scala? An Heir must be running around someplace.” I rub my nose with my knuckle. “Oh, I’ve heard of some pretty amazing magic users. Maybe one of them can zap the igni into someone else.” I groan. “I want to get today over with, kick Armageddon’s ass out of Purgatory, and forget any of this ever happened.” I nuzzle into his shoulder. “Except the you part, of course.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Let’s get through today. We can discuss everything else later.”
I let out a long breath. “You’re right.”