"What do we know so far?" he asked.

"Look around," Rafe said. "The place is a mess. No blood, but no claw marks, either. Doesn't look like hounds from when they attacked the first time. This is new."

"Not hounds, then," Lawson said. Silver Bloods? Maybe they'd drained Arthur, and that was why there wasn't any blood. He hated the thought of it. He'd seen the work of the Silver Blood in the Repository and shuddered to think of his friend as one of their victims.

Malcolm seemed to know what he was thinking. "If it was a vampire, there would be blood," he said.

"We have to assume he got away, then," Lawson said.

"Where would he go? And wouldn't he leave us some sort of sign if he'd had any chance to?" asked Rafe.

Edon nodded grudgingly. "We've been digging around, but we haven't been able to come up with much. Just about everything is ruined."

"Just about?"

"We found a book," Malcolm said. "Through the Looking-Glass. Arthur was always getting on me to read it."

Weird thing to leave behind, Lawson thought. "What's it about?"

"A fairy tale about a mirror that takes you to another world," Malcolm explained.

Huh. "Did you go into Arthur's room?" Lawson asked.

"Of course we did," Edon snapped. "We looked everywhere!"

"Remember that gold mirror he somehow lugged down here?" Lawson asked. "How strange we thought it was that he'd carry it around with him? Did that get trashed too, or is it still standing?"

"It's still there," Rafe said. "We tried everything."

"I have an idea," Lawson said. "Follow me."

They worked their way through the rubble until they reached Arthur's room, where the only thing left intact was the enormous old-fashioned mirror. Lawson looked at the ground in front of it.

Footprints.

Lawson grinned as he pushed on the mirror.

Nothing happened.

"See? We tried that too," Rafe said.

Lawson didn't give up. He ran his hands along its length until he felt a button.

"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked.

"Give me a second."

Lawson pushed the button, and the mirror opened outward, nearly hitting him in the face.

"So he did leave us a clue," Edon said. He didn't sound so annoyed anymore, but Lawson didn't have time to be grateful.

"There's a passageway back here," he said. "Let's go."

The five of them entered the passageway single file, with Lawson in front. Rafe closed the door, leaving them in darkness, but Lawson turned on his phone, and the passageway lit up, just enough so they could see their way forward. They only had to walk for a few minutes before they reached a door.

"Is it open?" Rafe whispered.

"No," Lawson whispered back.

"Should we force it?"

"Let me try something else," Lawson said, and knocked.

And waited.

And waited.

And then...the door opened.

"Well, it's about time," Arthur said, looking up from his book. "What took you so long?"

The room behind the cavern was enormous. It was really more of an apartment than a room, complete with a kitchen and dining table.

"So this is where you really live," Lawson said.

"An old warlock needs to have his secrets," Arthur said, with a wink. He turned to Ahramin. "Hello, my dear. And you are...?"

"I'm Ahramin," she said, almost shyly. Lawson had never seen Ahramin nervous like this, but it was probably because she'd never met a warlock before. Not that there was anything to be scared about, as Arthur was a true friend of the wolves. He had explained to Lawson that long ago he'd owed a favor to a Fallen angel named Gabrielle, who had turned out to be Bliss's mother. Gabrielle had asked him to help the wolves, and so he had.

"And Bliss?" Arthur asked.

Lawson didn't flinch at her name. He quickly explained what had happened, how they'd fixed the issues with the timeline but got stuck trying to go to the underworld; then how he and Bliss had gone to New York to try to find her friends. "But you still haven't told us what happened here. How did you escape the attack? Who attacked you? And what can we do to reopen the passages?"

Arthur laughed. "One thing at a time, my boy, one thing at a time. The Hellhounds left me alone once you disappeared. That mess up there is merely an illusion. As soon as it became clear you weren't coming back anytime soon, and there was danger afoot, I knew I needed a better hiding place. What better way to escape an attack than to convince potential attackers that one has already occurred? I made the place a glorious mess."

"You did a good job," Edon said.

"Too good," Lawson said. "We almost didn't figure it out."

"Oh, I knew you would. Such a simple clue, really. I almost worried that whoever came to attack me might cotton to it."

"Did anyone come?" Rafe asked.

"Trackers, but they left. No hounds."

"Well, what have you been doing here all year?" Malcolm asked.

"Don't be rude," Ahramin said.

Said the pot to the kettle, Lawson thought, but he was curious to hear Arthur's answer.

"I've been working on your problem," Arthur said.

"But we only just found out about it," Lawson said, puzzled.

"When it took you such a long time to return, I started to worry and thought I would look into it. As it happens, I've discovered why the passages are out of sync. There's been a rift in time."

"What does that mean?" Edon asked.

"I'll show you," Arthur said. He retrieved a map from a drawer, one Lawson had never seen before. "This is a time map I discovered. Do you see this image here?" He pointed.

Lawson looked closer. The map was largely made up of pictures, but where Arthur pointed, there were two identical images, side by side, followed by a series of images that looked similar at first and then started looking different. But after studying the images for a minute, Lawson realized the first two weren't identical. They were mirrored.

"Do you notice the difference?" Arthur asked. "The images on the map should all be unique, because there should only be one true path through time. But something broke, and now there are two paths. They've been there for a while. It's amazing you've been able to move through the passages until now, since that break has caused a ripple effect that slowly created enough of a blockage that the passages are rendered useless. If that blockage is allowed to spread, time as we know it will cease to exist, and the world will crumble into chaos and disorder."

Lawson had a feeling he knew what that meant. The wolves were members of the Praetorian Guard, keepers of the timeline. If something had gone wrong, it was their job to fix it. "What do we do?" he asked.

"You have to find the passage and fix the broken part. You'll have to travel to its location since you can't use the passages themselves anymore."

"How will we know where to look?"

"I know that the break took place during the Roman Empire, during Caligula's reign, so you'll have to go to Rome and try to find the ancient path, the one that led to the creation of the first Gate of Hell. That's the best I can do, for now."

"Did we cause this?" Malcolm asked. "When we went back there? Is this all our fault?"

"No, dear boy," Arthur said. "Do not blame yourself. This is the work of the Fallen. Bliss is part of this. I'm sure she is. She should be here with you."

Lawson did not disagree.

"If she's really one of us now, then we should be her priority," said Ahramin. "Why is she running to the vampires? She's not one of them anymore."

Much as Lawson hated to admit it, Ahramin had a point. Bliss was part of the pack, and the pack needed her. He needed her. He had told her as much before he left, but maybe he should try again.

Bliss picked up right away when he called her cell phone. "You're not on the plane yet?" He didn't apologize for leaving, but then Bliss didn't expect him to. They had let each other down.

"I'm at the airport," she said. "What's up? Did you find Arthur? Is he okay?"

"We did and he is," he said, and briefly explained what they'd learned. His voice dropped so that no one else could hear him. "Listen, I know you're worried about your friends, and I will keep my promise to you. But the thing is, Arthur thinks what's happened to the passages affects your friends as well."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Then his voice dropped even lower still. "I'm sorry I left the way I did. I didn't mean to."

"I'm sorry too," she whispered.

"So let's be sorry together."

Bliss smiled into the phone. "Okay, I was just about to get on a plane to London, but I can go back to Ohio instead."

"No, don't," Lawson said. "Meet us in Rome."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mimi

imi completed the long journey back to the underworld well before Jack. She wasn't sure how to read his delay - had he struggled to fail at his quest, or had failure simply been impossible? The difficulty with being Abbadon and Azrael was that it was easier to do things well than to do them poorly. It was all she could do to force Kingsley to succeed in winning the cup, although certainly he'd always been good at stealing things from her. Like her clothes, or her heart.

She tried to forget the look he'd given her - right before she'd disappeared - a combination of shock and displeasure. He had been confident she would fall into his arms - downright smug, even. And while Kingsley was right to believe in her love, she couldn't help feeling a little irritated, especially now that she knew how he had been spending his time while she was working so diligently on breaking her bond so they could be together.

The bastard had expected her to kiss him.

And why hadn't she?

Because then all would be lost. Lucifer would know immediately, and everyone would be vulnerable. Not just her and Jack, but Kingsley and Schuyler as well. If their betrayal was discovered, it would bring death to the two of them as well as to the ones they loved the most.

Where are you? she sent to Jack. But there was no reply.

She waited anxiously for his return, pacing the rooms of their apartments. The Dark Prince had been made aware of her failure, but so far had not requested her to come before him to answer for the fiasco at Rosslyn. Days felt like weeks, which felt like months, which felt like years, while she flinched at every knock on the door, fearful that someone had realized she'd thrown the fight with Kingsley. That she was a traitor. This couldn't go on forever; it would make her insane.

She tried to distract herself, remembering her last time in the underworld, when she'd waited anxiously in her room; when she'd gone back for Kingsley. She'd indulged herself then, with massages and facials and hair treatments, and glorious meals with fancy wine, but those didn't help now. She was too fidgety to sit still, and too nervous to eat. Late nights at the clubs helped release some of the tension, but she couldn't dance forever.

Finally, late one night, Jack returned, weary from his trip. She could tell from the look on his face that he'd failed, which is to say that he'd succeeded in doing Lucifer's bidding. He'd retrieved a cup. "What happened?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"We were so close," he said. "I found the cup, and I'd set up this fantastic battle with the monks for it. They'd just about succeeded when you called me."

So it was her fault. She'd insisted that Jack help her get rid of Danel, and in doing so she'd sabotaged his efforts. "I'm sorry," she said, one of the rare occasions she was willing to admit it.

Jack shook his head. "That wasn't the problem. It was a little trickier to make sure the monks won with Danel there, but I made it happen. They destroyed their precious chalice rather than letting us have it. No, the problem is that Danel is a little too good at his job. He figured out that the monks didn't seem sufficiently devastated by the loss of their treasure."

"Do monks ever really seem all that emotional?" Mimi asked.

"It's pretty subtle," Jack admitted. "Even I didn't catch it. But Danel was all over it. Before I fully realized what he was doing, he'd tracked the monks to a second cup."

"What? They had two? How did we not know that?"

"We've been tracking the strongest chalices, the ones that we were sure would suffice to carry the godsfire. The one the monks were hiding isn't among them, but Danel thinks it will work - it's still a cup of Christ - so Lucifer is over the moon that we managed to bring it back."