Serpent's Storm Part 14

"You're wrong," he replied, shaking his head. "We do do have to do this. We have no other choice." have to do this. We have no other choice."

Angry, he picked up speed and I had to trot to keep up with him.

"We were going to go to Heaven and ask G.o.d for help," I pleaded, but the pounding of the surf picked up just then, dulling my words. "We can still do that. It's not too late."

Daniel stopped abruptly and grabbed my wrist, aggressively yanking me into him.

"Ow," I cried, trying to wrest my arm out of his grasp.

"You don't understand," he rasped, gritting his teeth in frustration as I glared at him. "There are creatures counting on me to help them and time has run out. I have to do this or the Devil will do terrible things in h.e.l.l."

I couldn't believe the bulls.h.i.t he was spewing. How could he possibly believe the Devil and his cohorts would leave h.e.l.l alone if he just did what he was told and handed them Death on a silver platter?

"So, you kill me and then they give you h.e.l.l," I said, marveling at his naivete. "You really really think that's what's gonna happen?" think that's what's gonna happen?"

He stared at me, his face riddled with confusion.

"Kill you?" he asked, incredulous. he asked, incredulous.

"d.a.m.n straight, kill me," I said, annoyed at his stupidity. "What do you think this armor is for? We're supposed to battle it out for supremacy and that means death, buddy."

Daniel looked horrified. Apparently, he hadn't taken the time to think the whole thing through.

"My sister can never be Death, Daniel. She isn't one of the chosen ones."

In every generation there were two or three people who were fated to possibly become Death, but only one would reign supreme by besting the others at three tasks set by the Board of Death. Daniel was aware of the 411 on how someone got to be the Grim Reaper, and he knew my sister was ineligible-a detail that had been one of the contributing factors in why she'd kidnapped my dad all those months before.

"You challenge me and win? Well, then you're you're Death," I said, stabbing my gloved finger into his armored chest for emphasis. "You'll be my sister's plaything, and you'll never get anywhere near h.e.l.l." Death," I said, stabbing my gloved finger into his armored chest for emphasis. "You'll be my sister's plaything, and you'll never get anywhere near h.e.l.l."

I was telling him the truth, as I knew it, and I could tell he believed what I was saying. If he defeated me, he'd be at the mercy of the Devil and and my sister-and he'd actually be in a my sister-and he'd actually be in a worse worse place than when I'd first met him. place than when I'd first met him.

"So what do we do, then?" he asked me finally.

I wished I could've told him I had a plan, but I didn't even have the beginnings of one.

"We gotta at least look like we're down for doing this thing," I said, letting my arms drop to my sides. "Just don't kill me until I can put all the pieces together."

He nodded, flashing me a brief smile.

With a truce of some sort in place, we continued walking down the derelict path. A few minutes later Daniel stopped abruptly in the middle of the road and declared: "We're here."

I let my eyes sweep across the empty lane, following the curve of the land until it bowed to the sea. I couldn't imagine what was so important about this random, uninhabited stretch of road that meant we had to stop and make our little battle party here.

I didn't have to wait long for an answer.

The ground began to rumble like a freight train, the earth heaving beneath my feet in undulating waves that played havoc with my balance. Before I knew what was happening, I'd lost my footing and fallen flat on my a.s.s in the middle of the road.

"Come on, not fair-" I whined, but I shut up when I saw what had caused the tremor.

Above me, in all its opalescent glory, rose the gleaming white seascape of Atlantis.

I goggled at its majestic beauty, the creamy marble pavilions silhouetted against the agate swell of the sea. I'd always been in awe of the mysterious Lost City of Atlantis ever since I'd come across a picture of it in a book when I was a kid. I can still remember bugging my parents to take us there for summer vacation, only to be told we couldn't actually go there because it was "lost." I also remember the very strange looks I got from the other kids in school when I told them I would rather go to Atlantis for my vacation than dumb old Disney World.

It seemed that the venue for our battle had been chosen for a reason. And though I was leery about fighting Daniel, period, I didn't think I could've picked a better battle site.

Atlantis was where I would make my stand.

Hopefully it wouldn't be my last.

sixteen.

As I steeled myself for the battle ahead, I realized that, though it appeared to be daytime in Atlantis, I could still feel the coolness of the night at my back. I turned around and was shocked to find my feet still firmly planted in the marshy backwater of New York.

"Whoa," I said, the word escaping from my lips of its own volition. I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around the disorienting feeling of being in two places at once.

"Pretty weird, huh?" Daniel said, giving me a nervous smile.

"Yeah, weird," I agreed.

"Look," Daniel said suddenly, grabbing my armor-clad arm with a clank clank. "I feel terrible about all of this. I really had no idea it would be a battle to the death-"

"It's okay," I said, interrupting him. "I know you're one of the good guys, Daniel."

I wasn't sure if I really meant what I said or if the last bit had been laced with a hint of sarcasm. Daniel took it at face value, shaking his head, his handsome face creased with worry.

"I meant everything I said this morning. I'm not gonna let you run away from me."

Because I was so not expecting to have a conversation about our relationship, I just stood there, dumbfounded.

"Callie, I have very strong feelings for you," he continued, taking my silence as an open invitation to keep talking. "And I want to make our relationship work, no matter what happens."

"Uhm, I don't know if this is really the right time to be having this conversation," I said, looking around uncomfortably. I was starting to feel like I was the guy in our relationship: all terror at having to talk about feelings and other intimate things.

"Just know that whatever happens," Daniel said with an air of finality in his voice, "I'll be waiting for you."

He lifted my arm, pressing his lips to the top of my golden glove-encased hand-and even though there was no skin-on-skin contact, I had to say it was one of the more erotic experiences I'd ever had. He released my hand, his pale blue eyes raking my face for some sign of capitulation-which he must've found, because the taut muscles of his jaw visibly relaxed.

"I love you, Calliope Reaper-Jones. With all of my heart."

He gave me a wan smile as he closed the face flap on his golden helmet and walked into Atlantis.

I had no recourse but to follow him, so I flipped my own visor forward-and found that I couldn't see a thing in front of me because the helmet was entirely too big for my head. Resigned, I flipped the visor back up in place and took a deep breath. The visor immediately fell forward, covering my face again and making my ears ring.

"Dammit," I muttered under my breath, my voice reverberating hollowly in my ears as it echoed inside the helmet.

I reached up and shoved the visor into what I thought was a secure position, but the stupid thing just clanged back over my face again, obscuring my vision.

"Dumb visor!" I said, grappling with the golden face guard and trying to force it into a raised position. Apparently the armor didn't like being trifled with, because no matter what I did, I could not not budge the faceplate. It remained locked in place, making me feel slightly claustrophobic while also giving me a new appreciation for what sardines go through. budge the faceplate. It remained locked in place, making me feel slightly claustrophobic while also giving me a new appreciation for what sardines go through.

"Fine," I said, deciding if I couldn't beat 'em, I'd join'em. "You wanna stay shut? Then just move the stupid eyeholes down so I can see out of 'em."

Instantly, the helmet began to heat up, scalding the top of my head.

"Ow!" I screeched, reaching for the burning metal, my first reaction to get the offending object as far away from my scalp as humanly possible.

I hooked my hands around the smooth edge of the helmet and started yanking, but when I realized the helmet wasn't trying to immolate me, I relaxed, letting it resize itself to fit my head. The eyeholes realigned over my eyes, and-my sight restored-I found Daniel waiting for me down by one of the gleaming, bone white pavilions. I clomped over to where he stood, grunting in exertion as I felt the armor getting heavier with every step, the short walk leaving me as winded as a jog on a treadmill would. It appeared that engaging the faceplate had triggered some kind of magical response, increasing the protection factor of the armor a hundredfold and making it much harder to maneuver in.

Where Daniel stood, the surrounding pavilion was empty except for a long marble table overlooking the azure sea. I craned my neck, curious to see if any of the Board of Death had decided to put in an appearance, but Daniel and I were alone next to the pavilion-in fact, we seemed to be the last people in all of Atlantis, because there were only empty promenades and pavilions stretching as far as the eye could see.

I inhaled the raw scent of salt and seaweed as the wind cantered across the perfectly crested waves, eddying around us and rattling our armor.

"I'm gonna check that stuff out," I said to Daniel, indicating the marble table. When he didn't reply, I shrugged and clomped over without him.

Laid out for our perusal was an a.r.s.enal of weaponry-totally old-school stuff: forged metal weapons right out of the Middle Ages, with no gun or flamethrower in sight. Since I was outfitted like a knight of the Round Table, I figured being forced to wield a sword was just par for the course. Along with a pair of swords, there was also a mace, a crossbow, a double-sided ax, and two bronze daggers.

"Amazing," I said, reaching for one of the long swords, its gilded hilt carefully crafted to resemble a ma.s.s of trailing grapevines.

To my untrained eye, the blade looked like it was made out of polished steel, its stone-sharpened edges so precise that the blade glistened like quicksilver in the sunlight. Curious now, I wrapped my mailed hand around its bas-relief hilt and tried to lift it, but the stupid thing was so heavy I couldn't move it. Frustrated, I threw everything I had into the endeavor, leaning back so my body weight would act like a fulcrum and lift the sword off the table into the air-but still, no dice. The sword might as well have been cemented to the tabletop because no amount of effort on my part could budge it.

"Here, let me help," Daniel said, sidling up beside me. Startled, I jumped, my armor rattling. I hadn't even heard him walk over.

"No, that's all right," I said, frustration mounting as I tried to yank the sword from its resting place to no avail. "I've got it."

Ignoring me, Daniel slid his armored hand around mine. Instantly, the sword was light as a feather, and together, we easily hefted it into the air.

"Whoa," I cried, the now much lighter sword swaying in our clasped hands as if it were a reed in a rainstorm.

"I won't let go."

As Daniel said this, his eyes-the only part of his visage I could see through his faceplate-grinned mischievously at me, and I was struck, not for the first time, by how magnetic his gaze was. The eponymous "they" say a man's eyes are the windows to his soul; if that was the case, then Daniel's soul was made of ice blue steel.

"You have pretty eyes," I blurted out before I could stop myself. This made Daniel grin sheepishly.

"The better to see your beauty with, my dear," he replied, making me blush.

It's funny how things happen sometimes. Daniel and I were supposed supposed to be beating the s.h.i.t out of each other with medieval weaponry so the victor could then reign supreme over Death. Instead, we were standing on the battlefield trapped in gold-plated tin cans, flirting with each other like a couple of teenagers in heat. to be beating the s.h.i.t out of each other with medieval weaponry so the victor could then reign supreme over Death. Instead, we were standing on the battlefield trapped in gold-plated tin cans, flirting with each other like a couple of teenagers in heat.

"So, what happens if you let go of the sword?" I asked.

Daniel shrugged. "It would probably flop onto the ground."

It was a totally benign statement, but my mind went right to "flaccid p.e.n.i.s land," and I giggled.

"What?" Daniel demanded, but I merely shook my head.

"You don't even want to know."

Daniel rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"You're right. I don't want to know," he said finally. "You have a very juvenile mind."

You can say that again, I thought. I wondered what alternate, immature scenarios Daniel and I could be partaking in if we weren't trapped in the middle of a pernicious battle between Good and Evil right then. The images that thought conjured made me blush again. I thought. I wondered what alternate, immature scenarios Daniel and I could be partaking in if we weren't trapped in the middle of a pernicious battle between Good and Evil right then. The images that thought conjured made me blush again.

There was just something about Daniel I couldn't get out of my head. He may have driven me nuts as a live-in boy toy, but when our bodies were in close proximity to each other, well, all bets were off.

"Enough canoodling!" a clipped voice boomed from behind us. We both whirled around to see who was yelling at us, and I gasped as I lost my grip on the sword's hilt. Daniel grabbed the blade of the sword with his free hand, balancing the weapon delicately across both of his palms.

"Sorry," I mouthed, worried I'd almost skewered him, but I got a flirty wink in return for my apology, so clearly Daniel hadn't taken offense.

"If you two are through fooling around . . . " the voice continued. I looked up to find a thin woman standing on the opposite side of the marble table from us, her brown hair piled on top of her head in a modified beehive.

Sensing that she now had our undivided attention, the lower half of her face split apart in a protracted grin. There was something about the way her pearly white teeth glinted so fiercely in the sunlight that reminded me of a piranha's dilacerating maw.

"I will be proctoring this battle for the Board of Death, as its members are indisposed at the moment," the woman purred, the rhinestones on the temples of her cat-eyed gla.s.ses twinkling merrily as she fingered the lapel of the vintage pink mohair suit jacket she was wearing. The tailored, high-necked jacket and skirt combo cinched in at the woman's waist, creating the illusion of generous curves, but the woman's shapeless calves and delicate ankles belied all the hard work the suit was doing.

"I know you," I said suspiciously. "You worked for Thalia when she was at Death, Inc."

I'd met the woman-Evangeline, Jarvis had called her-when I'd gone to the Hall of Death looking for my friend Senenmut's Death Record. Even though she'd been completely pleasant when we'd b.u.mped into her, Jarvis had been leery of letting her know our business, because she'd worked with my sister before all the crazy dad kidnapping stuff had gone down. Needless to say, the faun hadn't thought her very trustworthy.

And neither do I, I thought, agreeing with Jarvis's estimation of the woman. I thought, agreeing with Jarvis's estimation of the woman.

"Yes, we have met before," Evangeline replied, shooting me a tight smile that was anything but friendly. "Under more pleasant circ.u.mstances, I'm afraid. By the by, how is is your little faun friend doing these days?" your little faun friend doing these days?"

She knew! The b.i.t.c.h knew knew Jarvis was dead and she was flaunting that knowledge in my face. It was pure evilness-and as much as I wanted to grab the mace off the table and slam it into her nasty grin, I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd hurt me. Jarvis was dead and she was flaunting that knowledge in my face. It was pure evilness-and as much as I wanted to grab the mace off the table and slam it into her nasty grin, I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd hurt me.

"Oh, you know Jarvis. He's hanging around somewhere."

Yeah, hanging around Purgatory waiting to get recycled into a new body, so I can never find him again.

"Really?" She t.i.ttered. "How nice for him, then."

Evangeline didn't press the issue; I guess she'd noticed my interest in the mace.

"So how does this work?" Daniel asked, changing the subject. "We each choose a weapon and then we fight until someone concedes?"

Evangeline picked up a tiny clipboard from the marble table-one that hadn't been there the last time I looked-and consulted the top page as if it were a manual on car repair. She flipped the first page then the next and the next until she found what she wanted.

"Yes, it seems that under the normal rules, one of you would concede and that would be that, but since those rules no longer apply," she murmured, tossing the clipboard over shoulder, where it sailed past the marble bal.u.s.trade and was swallowed by the welcoming sea, "I'm afraid you're just going to have to fight to the death."

"That's bulls.h.i.t," Daniel stammered. "You can't change the rules like that."

Evangeline shrugged.