Kai Warin pressed his hands to his chest. Warm. Sticky.
Drawing his fingers away, he saw they were covered in blood.
Pain knifed through him, stealing his breath, stealing his
thoughts. Then it passed and he was left feeling numb, out
of sorts, like he wasn’t really here.
And where was here?
He had a fleeting impression of a sandstone gallery and
preternatural silence. Guess he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.
He definitely wasn’t on Pfeiffer Beach. The lack of sand and
waves and sky gave it away.
Fear bit at him. Not for himself. For Amber. He pictured
her, light brown hair tousled by the wind, eyes bright as
she looked at him. And then she was gone. Fading like
morning mist under the glare of the warming sun.
Was she safe? God, she had to be safe.
The thought brought anger shimmering over him in waves, and
for a second, he just stood there, disoriented.
Then he remembered the note—red lipstick on the bathroom
mirror. She thought it was a game to do things like that;
she liked to surprise him. She’d written two words. Pfeiffer
Beach. Their private place. She called it the most beautiful
beach in the world. He’d kissed her there for the first
time. Weeks later, he’d brought blankets and made love to
her there under the stars.
But this time, it hadn’t been Amber there waiting for him.
It had been…
He stared at his bloody hand for a long moment. He couldn’t
remember.
His head jerked up.
Before him was a set of heavy wooden doors. As he
approached, they swung open. Alert, he scanned the area,
searching for any hint of movement, any threat. He closed
his fist and felt the slippery warmth of his own blood.
Except…he didn’t. He shot a look at his hand. There was no
blood. He slapped his palm to his chest and jerked his chin
down. Still no blood.
“Come,” a voice bid him, low, commanding.
He stayed where he was, framed in the doorway. The room was
in shadow. He could see the outline of a man on what
appeared to be a raised dais, and he could smell flowers—
“Lotus blossoms,” the voice clarified in a flat, bored tone.
“What do you want?” Kai asked, cutting to the chase.
Kai scanned the shadows and corners, noting the dual rows of
columns that ran the length of the vast space, and through
the open doors at the far end of the room, palm trees.
Again, the pain in his chest twisted in knots. He couldn’t
breathe. Couldn’t think. Could barely stand. In his mind’s
eye, he saw muzzle flashes from at least three weapons. He’d
been shot. The memory of lying in the sand with the sound of
the waves and the wind, and the star-flecked sky a dark
saucer overhead flowed over him, then ebbed, slipping from
his grasp.
“Do you understand now?”
“Yes.” He did. He was dead, and this sure as fuck wasn’t
heaven. “Amber,” he breathed, far more afraid for her than
he was for himself.
“Tell me about your family. Brothers? Sisters?” he’d asked.
He remembered the shadows that clouded her eyes.
“No one,” she’d replied. “My mother and I—” She’d shaken her
head then, and he’d had the feeling they were estranged. And
she was alone.
“You have me,” he’d said, and offered a cocky smile. “Forever.”
But that had only made the shadows grow darker.
And now he was dead, and he’d left her alone.
“Amber Hale remains Topworld.”
Kai took a second to figure that out. “Topworld. You mean,
she’s still alive.”
“Yes.”
“And this is…the Underworld?”
“Yes.” A pause. “You understand that she sent you there. You
understand what she did?”
Lipstick on the mirror. She’d sent him to Pfeiffer Beach,
but she hadn’t been waiting for him there.
He shook his head but said nothing, not willing to dignify
the implied accusation.
“Come,” the voice said again.
“Do I have a choice?” Kai asked, wondering why he wasn’t
more afraid.
“There is always a choice. Yours is between eternal life and
annihilation.” A pause, then, “Choose wisely.”