Death's Daughter Part 13

"You . . . ?" I gasped. I gasped.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My brain got all muddled as I tried to process why the detective from the Psychical Bureau of Investigations would be holding a gun to my back.

"But you're supposed to be one of the good guys!" I stammered.

"I am am one of the good guys," he said tersely. one of the good guys," he said tersely.

Whether he was a good guy or bad guy, it was kind of impressive that he'd been able to track me down into h.e.l.l-even if he had had cuffed me, thrown me down on the ground, and totally humiliated me in the process. cuffed me, thrown me down on the ground, and totally humiliated me in the process.

"Hey, wait a minute," I said as I felt the beginnings of a muscle cramp starting in my neck. Poor Runt must've thought I was trying out some weird yoga move, the way my head was turned at such an odd angle for so long.

"There's something different about you, other than the gun."

It took me a minute, but then it hit me with the velocity of a sucker punch to the nose. Detective Davenport was dressed exactly like a male supermodel. I noted the long gray trench coat worn over the well-tailored charcoal suit-a suit so different from the Men's Wearhouse joke he'd been wearing when I first met him that I couldn't believe the same guy had picked them both out.

His shoes were soft, b.u.t.tery gray Italian leather, and they looked handmade. They must have cost him a small fortune. I had no idea the PBI paid their operatives so well. I decided that when the whole Death thing was over, maybe I would look into joining up.

"Are you, like, a supermodel in hiding or something?" I asked curiously. "Because those are some fine-looking threads you've got there, Detective."

Ignoring my fas.h.i.+on commentary, Davenport ushered me forward, continuing to guide me toward some destination that only he had the map to. He was definitely p.i.s.sed about something-probably me, I thought-so I decided that asking him what designer he was wearing perhaps wasn't the smartest of ideas. There was a distinct possibility that he might even yell at me for being impertinent. I thought-so I decided that asking him what designer he was wearing perhaps wasn't the smartest of ideas. There was a distinct possibility that he might even yell at me for being impertinent.

"Are you aware, Miss Reaper-Jones, that you are not in possession of an alibi for the time of your father's kidnapping?" he said quietly, brandis.h.i.+ng the gun at my back for emphasis.

My eyes widened as I realized what he was inferring. I was so annoyed that I stopped in my tracks and turned to glare at him. Gun or no gun, I was not gonna take this bulls.h.i.+t lying down.

"Are you trying to tell me that you actually think I kidnapped my father, my sister, and, like, twenty other people? I mean, come on come on, do I look like I could've come up with that kind of Machiavellian plan all by myself, buddy?" I said angrily. "I work for a home and garden supply company, for G.o.d's sake."

"No, but-"

"Thank you!" I interrupted, glad that he was finally starting to see things from my point of view.

"Now, just hold on a minute. Let me finish," he said testily as he took me by the arm and led me forward.

"What I was going to say is that, no, I don't think you planned this yourself. But I do do think you planned this with someone else, someone who knew your father intimately. Someone who spent every day with him, who knew his schedule, his interests . . . his secrets, even." think you planned this with someone else, someone who knew your father intimately. Someone who spent every day with him, who knew his schedule, his interests . . . his secrets, even."

"My mother?" I said. G.o.d, I hoped it wasn't my mother. The therapy bill on that one would be astronomical, and my insurance plan with House and Yard barely covered the basics . . . like checkups and Band-Aids.

The detective gave me a withering look.

"Sorry," I muttered under my breath as I tried to keep up with him. He was starting to walk faster, and since he had about a foot on me, his stride was just a wee bit longer than mine. Runt didn't seem to have any problems with our pace. In fact, she seemed quite happy to be clocking along at a steady jog.

"What I am trying to say, Miss Reaper-Jones, is that we are talking about someone close to your father, but not from the immediate family. Someone exactly like your father's Executive a.s.sistant . . . Jarvis de Poupsy."

Ignoring the implications of what the detective had just said, I asked, "Uhm, excuse me, but did you just say Jarvis's last name was 'de Poupsy'?"

"Yes, your father's Executive a.s.sistant is named Jarvis de Poupsy. What of it?" the detective said without a note of irony.

"Nothing" I replied. If Davenport didn't get the hilarity factor of Jarvis's last name, well, then it was his loss.

As far as I was concerned, the whole thing-including Jarvis being a criminal mastermind-was totally absurd. Jarvis might've annoyed the c.r.a.p out of me at times, but I was not not gonna let some dumb detective-no matter how cute or well dressed he was-say anything bad about gonna let some dumb detective-no matter how cute or well dressed he was-say anything bad about my my Executive a.s.sistant. Executive a.s.sistant.

"You're crazy if you think Jarvis had anything to do with this," I said, but the look on the detective's face told me otherwise.

I decided to try a different tack.

"Seriously, Mr. Davenport-"

"It's Detective Detective," he said quietly.

"Fine. Look, Detective Detective, Jarvis wors.h.i.+pped the ground my father walked on. I mean, I think he even loves him, actually. I mean, not in a gay way-which would be totally okay in my book-but in a kind of wors.h.i.+pful, loving . . ."

I paused as I realized that this was not coming out right at all.

"Okay, let me start over-"

It took the detective yanking me back by the scruff of my tank top to make me realize we were standing in front of a great, big, gaping pit. I'd been concentrating so hard on what I was saying that I hadn't even noticed when we'd hit the end of the line.

I turned around, trying to gauge his intentions.

"Okay, Detective Davenport, I'll do whatever you want," I said, hoping my words had come out as sweetly as I had intended them to. I even tried to bat my eyelashes at him, but eyelash batting was never one of my strong suits. "Just explain to me what the h.e.l.l this thing thing is." is."

I motioned to the giant pit in the ground.

"Just as I said before, Miss Reaper-Jones. You're going downtown. downtown."

I looked back at the gaping hole, my heart lurching when I saw that it had no bottom. I didn't know what this thing was, but I was determined not to get any closer to it until Davenport explained what the h.e.l.l "downtown" meant.

"All right, but when you say the word 'downtown,' " I asked, "what does that really really mean?" mean?"

The detective didn't seem seem to glean any pleasure from his next words, though I wouldn't have been surprised if he had. to glean any pleasure from his next words, though I wouldn't have been surprised if he had.

"This is the temporary h.e.l.lhole that leads to a holding cell in Purgatory, where you will be banished until your trial."

I looked down at his hand, the one that was holding the gun pointed directly at my belly. I noticed for the first time that he had long, delicate pianist's fingers, and I imagined, under different circ.u.mstances, they could've made me feel real nice, but right now they just looked like the last thing I'd see before the beginning of the end of the rest of my life . . . in Purgatory in Purgatory.

From what I'd heard, no one escaped from Purgatory. And I mean no one. no one.

"I'm sorry," he said, not looking me in the eye. And it almost seemed like he was was kind of sorry to be the one who had to do this to me. kind of sorry to be the one who had to do this to me.

He reached out with his free hand, his fingers arcing toward my solar plexus, but before he could touch me, I stepped backward into the abyss. If I was gonna go downtown downtown, then I was gonna go of my own volition, not his.

Somewhere in the distance, like it was coming from twenty thousand miles away, I heard Runt bark. As my eyes instinctively flew in her direction, I saw something that totally blew my mind: Not more than ten feet away from me, my Executive a.s.sistant-my knight in s.h.i.+ning armor, really-Jarvis de Poupsy, was coming to my rescue.

He was like a little locomotive the way he propelled himself forward, launching himself at the detective. Davenport didn't seem to realize what was happening until they were both sailing through the air toward the ragged mouth of the h.e.l.lhole, Jarvis's arms holding on to his prey's waist for all they were worth.

My right foot hit air, and then I felt the ground slide out from beneath my left foot. I started to fall backward, the cool hands of nothingness embracing me.

"Jarvis! No!" I screamed, the words burning my throat as I started my descent into the h.e.l.lhole. Since I was in free fall myself, there wasn't much I could do but watch as Jarvis and the detective cleared the lip of the h.e.l.lhole and fell straight down into the nothingness.

I felt a sharp tug on my ankle, and suddenly, I stopped falling, my head slamming back into the side of the pit. While I hung upside down inside the h.e.l.lhole, my head aching and tender, I could feel its pull working on me, enticing my body into its vortex. I was terrified that no matter what happened next, I was destined for Purgatory. That whatever had stopped my fall was gonna realize its mistake and let me drop.

"Please don't let me go," I cried, tears starting to course down backward across my temples and into my hairline.

I heard a long, low growl, and then suddenly I found myself being dragged up and over the edge of the h.e.l.lhole to safety.

I lay there in the dirt for a long time after Runt let go of my ankle. There would probably be a nasty bruise where her teeth had gripped me, but she had taken care not to break any skin, so there was no blood, thank G.o.d. Blood and I were not on the best of terms. Usually when it was anywhere near me, I just kinda pa.s.sed out.

I'm a total jerk, I thought to myself. I had been so rude and thoughtless when it came to Jarvis, and now he'd gone and saved my life and I couldn't even tell him I was sorry. If it'd been me, I'd probably have just left me to my fate after the way I'd treated him. Instead, he'd risked life and limb to make sure I was okay. I thought to myself. I had been so rude and thoughtless when it came to Jarvis, and now he'd gone and saved my life and I couldn't even tell him I was sorry. If it'd been me, I'd probably have just left me to my fate after the way I'd treated him. Instead, he'd risked life and limb to make sure I was okay.

"I deserve to be a fly in my next life," I said to Runt. The little puppy looked up at me from where she'd been rolling happily in the dirt a few feet away and wagged her tail.

"I'm glad you agree."

I sat up and sighed, not even caring anymore if my clothes were a dirty mess or if my makeup was caked. I'd been a selfish idiot for too long, and I was getting really tired of my bad att.i.tude. From this day forward, I pledged, I was gonna be nicer to everyone-especially Jarvis . . . if if I ever saw him again, that was. I ever saw him again, that was.

"Well, what do I do now?" I said to no one in particular.

Jarvis, the only person in the whole universe who could help me, was gone, along with the piece of parchment that held the particulars of my last two tasks. I was dirty, tired, extremely hungry, and I had no way of getting out of h.e.l.l and a.s.suaging any of these needs because I couldn't open my own wormhole without help.

"This sucks," I said miserably. "I wish you could talk, Runt. Then you could tell me what to do for my next trick."

With these words, Runt's eyes lit up, and she started to wag her tail even more vigorously. She picked herself up out of the dirt and started to trot back the way we'd come.

"Where're you going?" I asked. She turned to look at me askance, as if urging me to follow her.

"You want me to follow you?" I asked, knowing that even if I did did say it out loud, it was still an entirely rhetorical question. She picked up her pace as I started after her. Every so often she'd stop and sniff the ground; then, when she was satisfied by what she'd smelled, she'd continue on. say it out loud, it was still an entirely rhetorical question. She picked up her pace as I started after her. Every so often she'd stop and sniff the ground; then, when she was satisfied by what she'd smelled, she'd continue on.

Finally, we came to a clump of bushes, and Runt stopped, her head erect, her right paw up in the air, pointing at the greenery.

"Is there something in there you want?" I asked. Runt gave me what I could only call an "are you really such a dope" look, then went back to staring at the bushes.

"Okay, but if there's something nasty in there that you're not telling me about, I am so not gonna be a happy camper," I said to her before I stuck my hands into the top of the foliage, my eyes firmly shut in protest.

The foliage immediately gave way under my touch, and then, after only a few moments of searching around, my fingers found what Runt had somehow known was there.

"You're a genius," I said to the puppy, who wagged her tail again playfully, proud of her amazing olfactory work. As I pulled Jarvis's monogrammed handkerchief out of its green hiding place, I noted that it was rolled up into a neat-looking little spygla.s.s. Upon my touch, it instantly began to unroll, revealing the missing parchment inside.

"Thank you, Jarvis!" I almost yelled. "He must've seen the detective kidnap me and rolled the parchment up in the handkerchief for safekeeping before shoving it into the bushes," I said to Runt, who only c.o.c.ked her head at me as if to let me know I was stating the obvious.

"Okay, let's take a look and see what exciting task the Board has for us next."

I sat down on the ground beside Runt and spread the parchment out on my lap. Runt moved closer to me, flopping down just within ear-scratching distance. I absently reached out, patting her silken head as I turned the parchment over and had my first look at the doc.u.ment. It took me only a minute of perusing to see why Jarvis hadn't let me near the stupid thing earlier.

"What the h.e.l.l?" I said out loud, my voice escalating to a nearly hysterical pitch. "I can't read this! This is in Greek!"

I felt the first stirrings of a very black depression descending on me. It reminded me of the time I'd gone to a Barney's sale without realizing I'd forgotten to bring my credit cards and then had to watch as all the stuff I'd painstakingly picked out was immediately put back out on the floor for someone else to buy.

"I hate me," I said, my voice cracking as I put my head down in my hands and began to cry.

thirteen.

I don't know how long I sat in h.e.l.l sobbing my heart out, but when the tears finally did subside, my head felt like someone had put it in a vise and was slowly squeezing the life out of it. I didn't have a mirror, but I knew my eyes were probably rabbit pink, the whites hiding behind a web of very bloodshot capillaries.

Runt had stayed by my side the whole time I was incapacitated, her wet little nose pressed up against my neck, nuzzling me like a tiny four-legged mother. My own mother had never been very affectionate-at least not in the physical kind of way-so it was strange to have Runt comfort me with her own body like that. It made me wish my sisters and I'd had a dog while we were growing up.

h.e.l.l is a very strange place, I thought to myself as I wiped the last bit of crunchy, smeared mascara-it was so hot, the tears had turned to salt almost as soon as they had slid down my cheeks-from under my eyes and sighed loudly. I didn't really know what the next step was going to be, but I had decided one thing while I was crying: The minute I was out of h.e.l.l, I was going back to Sea Verge and enlisting Clio's help. She would probably be able to translate the parchment for me, and if I was lucky, she could also help me figure out who had kidnapped our father and sister so we could save them and spring Jarvis from Purgatory at the same time. I thought to myself as I wiped the last bit of crunchy, smeared mascara-it was so hot, the tears had turned to salt almost as soon as they had slid down my cheeks-from under my eyes and sighed loudly. I didn't really know what the next step was going to be, but I had decided one thing while I was crying: The minute I was out of h.e.l.l, I was going back to Sea Verge and enlisting Clio's help. She would probably be able to translate the parchment for me, and if I was lucky, she could also help me figure out who had kidnapped our father and sister so we could save them and spring Jarvis from Purgatory at the same time.

I hadn't really given much thought to the kidnapping until now because I'd been so intent on completing the tasks, but with Jarvis in custody, I was going to have to get on a stick and play detective. Otherwise, the jerk from the Psychical Bureau of Investigations was going to totally screw my whole life up.

Ugh, being in charge totally sucks. Can't I just be, like, the sidekick or something?

Oh well, I was just gonna have to put my thinking cap on and figure this mess out. I turned to Runt and gave her a nice scratch under the chin.

"Okay, Runt, now . . . what would Nancy Drew do?" I said to her cute little puppy face. She didn't answer, just c.o.c.ked her head and licked my hand. Now, I know that Nancy Drew is a little juvenile, but I'd never really read any Sherlock Holmes or watched CSI CSI or anything, so the teenage detective from my childhood was going to have to suffice. or anything, so the teenage detective from my childhood was going to have to suffice.

The only thing I really remembered from my "under the covers with a flashlight" reading years was that Nancy Drew liked to throw herself right into the thick of a mystery and then follow the clues to see who the bad guys were. But the sad thing was that I didn't even know what what the whole "thick" of this mystery was. I mean, I did know the whole "thick" of this mystery was. I mean, I did know who who had been kidnapped-my father, my sister, and twelve other Executives-but I had no idea had been kidnapped-my father, my sister, and twelve other Executives-but I had no idea why why.

"Nancy Drew isn't helping," I said to Runt, giving her another scratch.

Okay, then follow the proverbial money, I said to myself. I said to myself.

There was only one person I could see who stood to gain by my father's kidnapping. Only one person could then claim the t.i.tle of President and CEO of Death, Inc.-that is, if I, the dark horse daughter, could be discouraged out of the job, of course.

And that one person is none other than Daniel . . . the Devil's protege.

it took five hours of trekking through h.e.l.l to find an exit.

If I'd been smart, I'd have gone back to Cerberus and asked him for help, but I was so scared he wouldn't let me keep Runt that I just threw us blindly into h.e.l.l and hoped against hope we'd find our own way out.

I wish I could say the trek had been eventful, that I'd magically taught myself to read Greek, or that I'd found Daniel and beaten the whereabouts of my missing family members out of his handsome hide, but alas, all I did was walk and b.i.t.c.h about the heat. Poor Runt must've wanted to run away screaming after all my whining, but she stayed beside me, her cute heart-shaped nose pressed into the dirt, catching every scent we pa.s.sed by.

She was the one who actually discovered the doorway first. I would've walked right by it, but she did that crazy pointer thing again, so I had to stop and investigate.

We had left the dirt and forests of the North Gate long behind us. Now, we were in empty brown desert, the heat reflecting up off the sand, half blinding me and making Runt pant even harder. I think I was b.i.t.c.hing about not bringing any sungla.s.ses with me when she stopped walking and lifted her paw.

"Jeez louise, Runt, how'd you find that that?" I said.

The doorway, if you could even really call it that, was set into the very ether. Any normal person would have completely missed it, but Runt, having a supernatural nose-and also being much smarter than me-picked up on it immediately. I had to kind of squint and walk counterclockwise to see it. Even then, it was just kind of a s.h.i.+mmering outline in the air.