Kicking It(89)

“Amarantha is trying to cast a spell against Lucifer?” I said to Arkan. “I thought she was smarter than she looked, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Do not insult my queen,” Arkan said. “She is a thousand times the woman you will ever be.”

“That’s probably true,” I said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s making a huge mistake by messing with Lucifer.”

“The Morningstar has insulted Queen Amarantha and the whole of faerie by claiming dominion over her court as repayment for the insult done to you,” Arkan said.

“So you’re acknowledging that there was an insult?” I said. “Because it generally is considered poor form to try to kill an ambassador, but Amarantha didn’t seem to agree with me.”

“Lucifer is not the emperor he imagines himself to be,” Arkan said as if I had never spoken. “He cannot even control the fallen of his own court. Look how Focalor conspires against him.”

“I’m sure that Focalor is suffering in a tiny cage surrounding by electrified bars right now,” I said. “Don’t you worry about Focalor. Worry about Amarantha, because nothing good will come of this, even though she’ll never succeed.”

“You think you can stop Sammy Blue? The ambassador has never yet failed in a mission for his queen,” Arkan said.

“There’s always a first time for everything,” I said. “And I am not going to leave and let some innocent be tortured by those shoes. So take me to your leader and all that.”

“You have broken the elevator,” Arkan said sulkily. “So thoroughly that the humans cannot even pry the doors open.”

I was suddenly aware of the clank of metal on metal and of several voices arguing just outside the elevator. By the sounds of it, they’d been there for many minutes without my noticing. I tend to get tunnel vision—and hearing—when I’m focused on a task.

“Veil yourself,” I told Arkan.

“Why should I?”

“Gods above and below,” I said. “I have never met a faerie that didn’t act like a spoiled child. I can’t believe your race has survived this long. You need to veil yourself because in a second I’m going to blast those doors open. And since I have my wings out I can’t be seen. But you can. So unless you want to be detained by humans and forced to answer a lot of questions about that mess downstairs in the kitchen, you will do as I say. Oh, and don’t try anything,” I said, waving the tip of my sword just under his chin.

“You would not dare kill me,” Arkan said. “I am a close relative of the queen. You would be forced to pay a blood price to answer for my death.”

“I’ve got news for you, pal,” Beezle said. “Whatever rules you think apply do not apply to Maddy. She’s got this thing about authority.”

Arkan looked uncertainly from me to Beezle.

“Perhaps you’ve heard that I killed two of Lucifer’s sons?” I asked. “Don’t think I’ll hesitate to take you out if I have to.”

“You are Lucifer’s spawn,” Arkan said. “You have his pride, his arrogance . . . One day someone will put you in your place.”

“Like I’ve never heard that before,” I said. “Beezle, watch him.”

I kept the sword under Arkan’s chin with my right hand and held up my left toward the elevator doors. The last two fingers of that hand were missing, the result of a battle that hadn’t needed to be fought. Lucifer claimed the missing digits would grow back, but that hadn’t happened yet.

I took a deep breath and drew upon the source of my magic, the wellspring inside me where all my power swirled. There were hidden depths there, depths I hadn’t yet begun to explore, depths where the strength of Lucifer’s bloodline would finally be revealed. I was frightened to use that power, afraid that it would bring me closer to the Morningstar’s circle. My great-grandfather had made no bones about the fact that he wanted me as his heir. My wants and Lucifer’s were two very different things.

But I’d drawn on some of that magic when I’d survived the Maze, and now that I carried Lucifer’s sword it seemed the power was closer to the surface than it used to be. I pulled on my magic, infused it with my will, pushed it out through the palm of my hand. The snake tattoo on my right palm twitched.

The elevator doors flew open in a shower of sparks. Three hotel employees stood there looking surprised. The one in the middle held a crowbar. He stared at the bar, and then at the doors, then back at the bar.

“Good job, Ed,” one of the guys said.