Caged by Damnation (Caged #2)(38)

I glanced between everyone and nodded absently, wondering what could be hidden behind those doors. Why did Izzy want us to go there and what could be important enough to wipe our memories?

Ash had been right. After Izzy delivered her telepathic message, I couldn't ignore it. It was far too compelling a mystery, and after several more insistent messages from Izzy, none of us could consider putting it off. After Isis left, trying to distance herself from the migraine-inducing communication Izzy was forcing on us, she came back within minutes. Apparently, Izzy's projective thoughts weren't hindered by distance.

It wasn't difficult to spring Izzy from her prison while Rafe conveniently distracted Maloc. We hadn't asked him to help, but we were relieved when he took care of the ancient soldier anyhow.

Now, after a few accidental wrong turns, we stood before the large doors Izzy had shown us. They were massive, resembling something from ancient ruins that had stood against time and ended up here by chance rather than choice.

Liam had caught up to us on our way to the hidden chamber and didn't seem to mind that we were about to break into a room that supposedly did not exist. He even came in handy, silencing the alert system and stopping Isis from breaking the tripwire. I didn't ask where he learned how to break into a high security system, I wasn't sure I would be happy with the answer.

Stepping forward, I pushed and pulled at the door, but didn’t gain any ground. The others took pity on me and joined in, Isis and Griffin to my left, Liam and Ash remaining on my right. Izzy watched from a few feet away. The ancient doors protested our efforts, its aching joints finally giving up a few feet. It then settled, refusing to utilize movements that were likely forgotten.

We walked into the chamber as a team with Izzy bringing up the rear. A fit of sneezing in Griffin’s direction began a chain reaction of dust kicking up, clouding our vision. Somehow, Ash managed to open the only skylight window, while Isis found lanterns for each of us to use.

Electricity seemed a luxury in this room, as our lanterns illuminated the decrepit chamber. The room had seen better days, when it had been visited, but it hadn't had a visitor in a lifetime. The stench of mold was overpowering, but a breeze drifted through the window and swept around the room with a cleansing aura.

Chairs laid upside down on circular tables covered in scrolls and leather-bound books. Cabinets, bookshelves, and desks had been left in disorder, as if the room had been vacated quickly, forcing the occupants to leave their work and personal effects behind.

I wandered aimlessly, not sure what I was looking for, but needing to be productive. The others did similarly. A rectangular shape lay against one wall, imposing in its silence and posing a daunting task. The ghost of the desk’s past owner lingered in the stray letters, pens with the ends bitten, and bits of décor.

Trailing my fingers across the rough surface of unpolished wood, I noticed a frame coupled with fractured glass in the shape of a web. Inside was a photograph, its edges torn from age. The picture was of the room we were currently in, though it vastly different, teeming with people – scholars bent over books and scrolls while warriors guarded every bookcase, desk, table, and entrance.

Gathering the frame, I unhooked the back, detached it, and withdrew the aged photo. The edge that had been hidden behind the border was now visible. A figure stood within the shadows, both part and apart from them. The underworld had reached through the floorboards to tangle around his body, an extension of his hollow soul that was connected to Hell.

The man was dressed in a black suit that had seen better days. A seam was torn across the jacket and his pants looked faded from wear. He wore a fedora angled to one side and he was penetrating the camera with a look that could incinerate an entire town.

My vision eclipsed, leaving me paralyzed with fear, as the man within the picture changed position. He no longer stood in the background; his massive shoulders blocked out most of the background, leaving little room to question the change. I felt like I was holding a photograph taken minutes after the original, but it was the same one.

Holding the photo before me, against its decaying counterpart, it shifted once more and disappeared. I was suddenly alone in the room, as it had been in its prime. The others were gone and I was staring into the eyes of Asmodeus. I was beginning to get used to these visions and his annoying habit of popping up in them.

I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

This clip of the past reminded me of a silent movie – shades of black, white, and grays. Neither of us moved or made a sound, though our faces conveyed more emotion than conversation ever could.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" He spoke and I cursed him for ruining the moment. I had almost forgotten the evil his words had a habit of leaving behind.

"I'm always uncomfortable when you're around."

Asmodeus smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment then." He gestured to the room around us. "It's different than today. Do you know what this place is used for?" I shook my head, waiting for him to continue. "It's a library of forbidden texts. Scrolls, prophecies, and all other evidence that we aren't supposed to know about, are locked away here."

I deliberately baited him with a venomous tone. "If it's forbidden, why was it so easy for Liam to break into?" It irritated me that the answers to my questions would come from the one male I couldn't stand. Besides, Asmodeus was supposed to be expunged from my life. He was dead. So why did he keep haunting me?