Rex followed me down to the cell block. Every single ash victim was where they were supposed to be except one. Bryn’s cell was empty, her door open. The guard stood by the door, another in her room searching through the bag of clothes and books Bryn had brought with her.
“What the hell happened?” I barked.
One of the guys shook his head as the other came out of the room. “Look, we were doing our job—”
“Don’t feed me that bullshit. If you’d been doing your job, she’d still be here!”
“Calm down, Madigan,” the chief ordered from behind me.
I spun on my heel. The chief and Hank marched down the hall. I wanted to hit something. Scream. Casey and Mike were dead. Amanda had tried to commit suicide, and Bryn was gone. Christ, she could on the roof right now, stepping off … Oh God.
My eyes caught Kyle’s as he sat on the cot, watching us. Silent wasn’t his style. I ran to his door. “How did she get out?”
Power stirred in my gut, so hot and angry that my limbs tingled.
He shrugged, not bothering to hide the smug light in his eyes. “Said sm" ords. Door popped open. You know how mages are.” He made a motion with his hands and said, smiling, “Poof. Gone.”
My blood pressure rose, and I had to force myself not to pound the plastic. “Did she say anything?”
A female voice piped up, two cells down. “Yeah. She said, see you in hell.” Her chuckle grated on my composure.
Kyle shot to his feet. “Shut up, Grace.”
“Fuck you, Kyle,” Grace responded. “I’m not one of her flunkies like you. I’m not going to leap off some building because she fucking tells me to.”
Fear-fueled adrenaline shot through my limbs. I walked closer on numb legs. “Wait a second. She told Mike and Casey to jump? Bryn? Bryn told them?”
Grace gave a nonchalant shrug. Her hands were flat against the plastic. She looked the same as every other time I’d seen her, always in and out of the station on drug and prostitution charges—thin, strung-out, and pale. But now her dull eyes burned. “We’ve got a second chance at life, and all he wants to do is kill us off and go have his revenge.”
“‘He’? Who are you talking about? Who is inside of my sister?”
“Let me out and I’ll tell you.”
Ah. So this was the game. Whoever was inside of Grace wanted freedom, wanted to take her body, steal her life, and live it for her. Fat chance.
I shook my head. “Can’t do that.”
“I’m not one of them,” came another voice opposite Grace’s cell. I spun around. A young woman stood at the plastic. I couldn’t place her. “I’ll tell you. I sit and I listen to them; they don’t think I can hear but I do.” A small part of me acknowledged how odd her calmness seemed, but in that moment all that mattered was finding my sister. I approached, my heart pounding hard, mouth dry in fear. I stood in front of her cell and waited.
“Your sister is going to Charbydon, to Telmath, to kill the Abaddon Father.”
The others shot to their feet and yelled at once, a cacophony of curses and threats erupting throughout the holding area, but they all sounded far away as I reached for the wall to steady myself, the hallway turning like a fun house ride.
My mark oozed warmth as Hank placed his hand on my shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly, “we can get to her, Charlie. We can stop her before she goes through the gate.”
“I’m calling the gate officials now,” the chief said from behind us.
Deep breath. Okay. Focus. “Who’s controlling her?” I asked the woman.
“I don’t know. They never use names other than the host body’s.”
“Why the Abaddon Father?”
“Revenge. Your sister said the Father would pay. Said the winter solstice plan was a failure, and the Sons of Dawn were finished, and this would be the final act. You know, like Plan B basically. Can’t strt a war, then go straight to revenge. She said she was going to kill the one who killed Malek Murr, her father. Or his. Who knows who’s inside of her …”
Malek Murr. My thoughts churned. Malek Murr. He’d been the jinn High Chief who’d come to our world during biblical times to escape the oppressive rule of the nobles. His tribe and a few others had left Charbydon to make a new home in our world. And while Malek had several sons, there was only one that mattered here.
The answer struck me like a thunderbolt, slammed into my chest, and stole my breath. I stepped back. Blood drained from my face as all the pieces slid neatly into place.
“Solomon.”
The others started screaming about revenge, about justice, but it all melted into the background. The biblical King Solomon. The Father of Crafting. The son of Malek Murr and the human woman Bath-sheba. A hybrid, like Sian. He had started the Sons of Dawn cult, had learned about the First Ones and that the nobles once ruled in Elysia. His cult had planned to gather the proof they needed to share with the nobles—and once the nobles found out where they truly belonged, they’d start a war with Elysia to take back what was once theirs, and leave Charbydon to the jinn.
And that’s all the jinn and Solomon ever wanted: to regain their world.
But Solomon’s father and the other jinn tribes had been called back to Charbydon, the nobles afraid that Malek Murr was planning to raise an army on Earth.
“Who was king?” I asked, looking around at the faces staring back at me. “Who was the Abaddon king when Malek Murr and the tribes were called back to Charbydon?”
No one answered. They didn’t have to. The Abaddon Father had to have been one of the kings back then. He’d given the order to bring back Malek Murr and have him executed. No wonder Solomon had created the spirit jars. No wonder he had devised a way to continue on after his death so that one day his cult could exact revenge and do what his father could not, free the jinn from noble rule—and, for Solomon personally, exact revenge for the man who had murdered his father.
Llyran and the Sons of Dawn had stood atop Helios Tower and claimed that I’d be host to Solomon’s spirit, that with Solomon’s knowledge and my power, they’d raise the First One. But it had never been Solomon in the spirit jar next to Llyran.
Solomon had gone quietly into my ash-addicted sister to run the show from the background.
No wonder we hadn’t been able to detect another presence in her. She had the Father of Crafting inside of her—and with his knowledge, he could do just about anything.
And his last act was going to be killing the Abaddon Father.
Christ. It was like saying someone was after the Queen Mother in England. And no one would care that Bryn was possessed. This was a suicide mission after all.
“Bryn has a passport,” I said numbly, “so she won’t have a problem going through the gate, but I know she doesn’t keep it in her purse. She’ll have to go back to the League or her apartment to get it.”
Then again, Solomon might have ty aility to cross planes without using legal means of transportation …
“We need a team to go to her apartment,” I said to the chief. “See who’s in Underground right now and have them go over. I’m going to the League.” I turned to Rex. “Can you take Emma back home?”
“Sure.”
I tossed him the keys and he took off.
“The gate is on alert,” the chief said. “No one, no matter who they are, will pass until we give them the green light.”
“Thanks, Chief.”
I didn’t know where Bryn was headed, to be honest. Didn’t know if I should go to the gate and assume she’d try to go through or if she’d head back to the League for her ID. Hell, she could already be in Char-bydon by now.
“Charlie,” Hank said. “What do you want to do?”
I bit my lip hard. I had to be faster, had to cut her off. “Never mind about the League. We’re going to Charbydon.”
“What?” he and the chief echoed.
I turned to them. “Running around here, trying to find her is waste of time. It could put her farther and farther away from us. I guarantee you Solomon knows a way to get into Charbydon without using the gate. If we go now, we can head her off, be there before she gets there. Let her walk right into us.”
“Sounds good,” Hank said at length. “Let’s load up and get to the terminal.”
We raced to the weapons depot for additional ammo and weapons. Hank grabbed a thigh harness and strapped it to his leg. The familiar clicks and sounds of weapons checks and loading up filled the room.
“Solomon has had all this time inside of Bryn,” Hank said, slipping a spare Nitro-gun into the holster at his thigh. “Why wait until now?”
“Maybe he was still hoping for war and waiting to see if Bryn could find out what we did with Ahkneri.” I stilled, my eyes going wide. “I told Bryn about the sylphs. I told her I found a way to see inside of her and help her.“
Hank straightened. “And he realized it was now or never. If he wanted revenge, he’d have to do it now before you saw the truth.”
“Right,” I said, grabbing two thigh harnesses for the two extra Nitro-guns I was taking. “Otherwise, he had time to wait, to see how things unfolded. I bet you Tennin convinced him to wait it out after they lost Ahkneri. And Solomon had other ideas. He started issuing the suicide orders, Tennin went ballistic …”
I walked to the wall, grabbed a black cloak, and tossed it to him. “If we’re going into Charbydon, you’ll need this. The less attention we attract, the better.”
“How the hell do we find her once we get there?” Hank asked, tossing me some extra nitro clips. “Aaron has been to Charbydon …”
“No. He’s too involved personally. And he hasn’t recovered from dying.”I flipped open my cell and dialed. “Rex. Change of plans. You ready to take a trip back home?”
As Hank and I hurried from the depot, I spoke to Emma after Rex, and told her to pack a bag and her party dress because she’d be staying at the League until we got back. For once, my kid didn’t argue with me. Actually, if she had a choice, she’d have chosen the League herself. She loved it there. Her only words were, “Find Aunt Bryn and bring her back.” And to be careful, and that she loved me.
I called the League next and spoke to Aaron. There were only a handful of people I’d entrust with my child and he was one of them. I told him as little as possible about Bryn and asked him to put Emma under his protection. I had no doubts he’d agree.
Then we were in Hank’s car speeding toward Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.
I was about to see hell for the first time.