Into the Fire Page 20

“So, you are trainable,” Vlad drawled, while I glanced around with new understanding.

“Hydra mage. That’s someone who can control water, right?”

Ian gave Vlad an evil look before responding. “Yes, elemental magic is the theme of this hotel. This level is water. There’s also a level created by an earth wizard, another by an air witch, and one ruled by a fire sorceress.”

“Fire?” An interested gleam appeared in Vlad’s eyes.

Ian gave him a shrewd look. “Under other circumstances, I’d love nothing more than to pit you against her to see who would win, but I promised not to endanger you for my own amusement.”

“Who is that?” Vlad said, nodding at an elegantly dressed, blond man who was staring at the back of Ian’s head as if he could glare holes into it.

Ian turned and winced. “This might be a problem—”

The rest of what he said was cut off as he flew backward as if pulled by a giant string. Before Vlad or I could react, we were too swept up by that same unstoppable force. Quicker than a blink, the three of us hurtled toward the giant hole in middle of the ceiling, pushed along by invisible magic and the force of the countless gallons of water that were sucked up into the vortex along with us.

I now knew exactly what it felt like to be flushed down a toilet. That’s the only way I could describe being shunted through a huge, interior pipe with uncontrollable force. Water exploded up my nose, giving me the sensation of drowning even though I didn’t need to breathe. From the sick way my stomach plummeted, we were going up very fast, and the water pressure was so great, I couldn’t take my glove off to manifest my whip to break the pipe and free us. Likewise, Vlad wouldn’t be able to use his fire. Not while he was under water.

When the pressure abruptly dissipated and I felt cold air instead of painful wet surges, I was relieved . . . until I saw nothing but mist between me and the ground below. The pipe must have spat me well over the roof of the hotel, and the velocity had thrown me clear of anything to grab.

Instinct had me flailing in a mad, cartoonish attempt to slow my descent, but then I was caught in midair and hauled back against a large, heated body. In the time it took for Vlad to lower us safely to the ground, I had figured out that the infinity waterfall fell from the roof into drains at the building’s base that must lead to the Atlantis floor. There, it was sucked back up to the roof so it could fall and thus replenish itself in an endless, repeating loop.

I would’ve admired the design, except I was still coughing. Having my lungs suddenly flooded with gallons of water hurt. Vlad gave me a few pounds on the back that helped expel the last of it, then brushed a swath of wet hair back from my face.

“Are you all right now?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying for a smile. “Guess that’s the way magical people show unwanted guests to the door.”

“Bloody rude is what it is,” Ian muttered between coughs of his own. He was about a dozen feet away, and when he stood, his skintight leather pants squeaked from being waterlogged. “Still, I expected much worse.”

The last word had barely left his mouth when we were suddenly falling again. I didn’t know how solid earth could all of a sudden change into thin air, but that’s what happened. We hit the bottom of the pit about fifty yards down. Vlad grabbed me and tried to fly us through the mist that covered the new hole, but when we reached it, the hazy vapor was somehow so hard and impenetrable, we bounced off it instead of going through it.

“This is more like it,” Ian said darkly as he, too, tried and failed to fly through the misty ceiling.

The ground began to shift, and something that looked like shiny tree roots snaked up from the earth. When one of them curled around my ankle, the sharp, distinct burn it left wasn’t caused by anything wooden or organic. Instead, it was metal.

Or, more specifically, silver.

“A silver-rooted inescapable pit of death?” Ian almost sounded admiring. “You’ve outdone yourself, Blackstone.”

“I’m glad I didn’t disappoint,” a smooth voice said from above us.

I looked up, and through the mist that was somehow unbreakable, saw the suave blond man from the Atlantis room. He knelt at the edge of our pit, wearing a very satisfied half smile as he stared down at us. From the steady beats in his chest, he was human, but he was obviously more than just human. He was a sorcerer. And a powerful one, considering everything he’d just done.

Vlad snatched me up, keeping me out of reach of more seeking silver roots, then fixed his most dangerous glare onto the blond sorcerer. “Release us at once.”

Blackstone let out an amused snort. “Mind tricks don’t work on my kind, vampire, and I have no intention of releasing anyone. I made this trap for this exact purpose, and now I intend to sit back and watch all of you die.”

“Come on, Blackstone,” Ian said in wheedling tone, “even you must agree that this is a bit excessive.”

Blond eyebrows rose. “You left me at the mercy of the most powerful demon I’ve ever encountered just to save your own skin. If I were being excessive, I’d let you live for the thousand or so years it would take for the earth to push your body through its depths until you burned to death when you reached its core.”

I winced. Okay, so we were dealing with someone powerful and psychotically bent on revenge. Being married to Vlad, I had experience with both those things.

“Your issue is with Ian, but you don’t even know me or my husband,” I said, giving Blackstone a friendly smile. “Let us go, then do whatever you want to him.”

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