“It’s super popular,” Amanda assures me, as she takes the phone back. “I mean, in addition to keeping tabs on the living—though we can’t write on their walls or anything—it also serves as a directory of who’s down here and where. Hades is a huge place, and it used to take hundreds of years sometimes to find someone you know. Now you can look up your past loved ones in the directory and connect with them in an instant.”
I stare at her, wide eyed. What a great idea. I grab the phone back from her and type Sunny’s name into the search bar, my breath lodged in my throat. Would she be here? Could we finally track her down?
>>NO SUCH RECORD.
Damn. That would have been too easy. Guess she hasn’t signed up for an account yet. Or maybe she doesn’t want to. I know the girl was always kind of anti–social media or anything computer related.
“It takes a month or two to get listed,” Amanda adds, catching my disappointed face. “The bureaucracy in this place is mind-blowing.”
“Tell, me about it,” I reply glumly, handing her back her phone. At this rate we’re never going to find the girl, never mind actually have a chance to get her out.
“Wait a second, can I see that?” Jareth suddenly interjects. After glancing at Race and getting his nod of approval, the girl dutifully hands over her phone to him. Jareth’s brow furrows as he attempts to use the touch screen. (Being old school—super, super old school, that is—he struggles with technology sometimes.) But he eventually gets it and then hands the phone back to me.
“Take a look,” he says with a small smile.
I stare down at the screen, doing a double take, my jaw dropping in amazement. My sister may not be listed… but my father is! I look up at Jareth. “Oh my God!”
“Find someone you know?” Amands asks hopefully as Race signs her arm with a Sharpie.
“Yes!” I cry. “How do we go about contacting them?”
“Well, you could write on their wall, but then it would look like it was coming from me. Your best bet might be to use Google Maps. Click on their location and it’ll bring it right up.”
I do as she instructs and, sure enough, a moment later I have a map with my dad’s house pinpointed. I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe there’s hope for us after all!
“Do you know where this is?” I ask Amanda, showing her the map.
She squints at the screen. “Hmm. It’s not in the Way Station. He must have already gotten judged and been given a permanent address. I don’t know how to get there, unfortunately. But I’ll write it down for you. Maybe someone else can help.” She grabs the Sharpie from Race and turns my hand over to scribble the address. “There you go.”
“Thank you so much!” I say, relief flooding through me. “I cannot tell you how helpful you’ve been.”
“Just remember,” she says, giving Race a knowing look. “When you die I want tickets to your first Underworld show.”
“Absolutely,” Race agrees. “As far as I’m concerned, you can have front-row seats.”
I wait for her squeal of delight. But strangely, instead, she suddenly shrinks back in fear, her eyes glued on something behind us. I whirl around to see what’s gotten her so frightened, and my eyes fall upon a six-foot glowing green demon guard, stepping out from the darkness.
“What the… ?” I whisper, turning back around. But Amanda has already fled.
“Put your hands up,” the demon instructs in a deep gravelly voice. “You are under arrest.”
23
On instinct, I grab for my stake, once again lamenting I don’t have something more suited for non-vampire slaying on hand. If I ever get out of this mess alive, I’m so going to make Teifert give me the key to the real weapons closet. After all I’ve been through, I think I more than deserve a slightly sharper stick in my arsenal.
The fat, pockmarked demon takes one look at my “weapon” and sneers, lowering his spear in my direction and taking a menacing step forward. “Oh, you want to fight, do you?” he says in a throaty growl, his extreme enthusiasm for my non-surrender more than a little disconcerting. I suddenly realize I have no idea the extent of the prowess of the creature I’ve picked a fight with.
“Rayne…” I can hear Jareth say behind me, his voice tight with worry.
“I’ve got this,” I mutter back to him, keeping my eye on the demon, stake raised and ready. I am slayer. Hear me roar.
I consider firing some Buffyesque-style banter back at the demon, but then decide, in this case, actions speak louder than words. With a solid, roundhouse kick, I slam my foot against his spear, succeeding in knocking it from his unsuspecting claws. His eyes widen as it goes clattering down onto the pavement. Yeah, baby! Guess he wasn’t expecting someone so leet amongst the living.
“You like that, big boy?” I ask, deciding now that I’ve disarmed him so easily I have the right to a little gloating. “Well, there’s plenty more where that came from.”
I lunge at him, throwing my full weight against his meaty frame. He stumbles backward and for a moment I think I have him down, but at the last minute he manages to keep his balance. He grabs my shoulders and I bite back a shriek as his ragged claws dig into my flesh. (Guess manicures aren’t so big in the Underworld.) With an über-powerful thrust, he shoves me backward and I find myself flying through the air, my back slamming against one of the concrete buildings behind me. My head hits hard; I see stars as I crumple to the ground.