“I’m ready.” I shivered, a goose walking over my grave.
Trillian rested a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got this. We’ll bring her home. Just pay attention to Vanzir and me—we’ve both been in the Sub-Realms. If we say duck, duck. If we say jump, jump. Got it, girl?”
I nodded. “I understand. I just hope to hell Vanzir’s right about Trytian and that he’s waiting there for us.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” Vanzir nodded to Wilbur. “We’re ready. How do we get back?”
“I’ll leave the Demon Gate up as long as I can—as long as nothing else comes through. But you have to be aware that any sorcerer or necromancer with enough power can destroy it from the other side. That’s one thing I can’t control.” Wilbur’s expression was solemn. “I’ve taken strides to combat that possibility, however.” He handed each of us a bone charm on a leather thong. “I made these. Consider them . . . a magical GPS signal. I’ll have a chance to track your signature with them. They aren’t guaranteed, but there’s a chance I can pull you through, if something does happen to the Demon Gate. I made one for Nerissa, too.” He handed me the extra. “When you go through the gate, it’s not quite the same as walking through one of your Fae portals. It’s going to hurt, so be prepared.”
I stared at the flaming maw, tucking Nerissa’s charm into my pocket and zipping it closed. “I guess . . . the only way to find out is to go. What do we do?”
“I set it for the coordinates that Vanzir gave me. So you just . . . step through.”
I realized we were stalling. With a glance at Vanzir and Trillian, I moved toward the gate. Shade swung in behind me, silent in his support. Wilbur stood beside the portal and, as I met his gaze, he gave me a solemn nod. I silently leaned up and planted a faint kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Thank me when you get back with her. Now go, Dead Girl, and stay safe. But . . . when you get back, if it’s still during the day, you’ll pass out immediately, I assume. There are no windows in this room, so the sun won’t be able to harm you, but if that’s the case, whoever is with you can just lift you onto one of the tables and let you sleep out the rest of the day.” He looked at the other vamps. “That goes for your friends, too. But you might want to warn Nerissa so she doesn’t panic.”
“Got it.” With a deep shudder, I turned back toward the gate. There was nothing left to say. Anything more and I might lose my nerve. I glanced up at Shade and he nodded. Without further ado, I steeled my shoulders and stepped through.
The flash of runes startled me as I passed beneath the magical gate, and then—a deep searing pain wrenched through my body. Hot like a blade off the forge, it pierced through my soul, burning deep to my very core. Bathed in fire, I froze, unable to move.
This must be what it’s like to step into the sun. So bright, so hot, so brilliant and transcendent in its pain. Like the phoenix, burning to ashes before being reborn into the dark of the night. I danced with the flames as the runic symbols coiled around me, shifting me body and soul into a realm where I did not belong. Every fiber of my being resisted the energy. The very air was acrid, filled with desire and hatred, with a power so deep that it coiled at the base of a mountain, greedy and ancient, older than the wyrms of the earth, older than Kesana, the Mother of the Crimson Veil. Here, evil ran free and easy, and base emotions were elevated.
And then, as the psychic river of a power so ancient and so corrupt flowed freely around me, I opened my eyes to find myself standing in a valley of rock formations—crumbling and roughly weathered, and striated with reddish streaks. The sky was illuminated by a pale light, but it was neither the moon nor the sun. Roiling clouds, rust colored and dusty, filled the air, churning through the sky.
As the others appeared through the Demon Gate to join me, I gazed out over the landscape, realizing that we were actually here. We were in the Sub-Realms.
Chapter 17
As soon as we were all there, I tried to shake the cobwebs out of my head. “Wilbur was right, that hurt like a son of a bitch.”
Shade nodded. “Yeah, Demon Gates aren’t noted for their pleasure trips. They’re created to handle creatures of immense power and stamina. What hurt you would tickle them. It didn’t bother me because of my dragon heritage, and I’m guessing Vanzir was fine, but I’ll bet Trillian and the other vamps weren’t too happy.”
Trillian rubbed his head. “You can say that again.”