by Ford, Lizzy
“The stars in the center mark the generation of an immortal’s bloodline. One being the first.”
“You’re third generation,” she said.
“The oldest. The first two generations are extinct, from a time before time. Admittedly, I’m the youngest of the oldest immortals and the only immortal on Earth of my generation.”
“My father is fifth generation,” she mused.
“Another ancient bloodline. There are few of us. Anyway, this is to remind you there’s always a safe place for you, whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.” She squeezed the coins in her hand. “I have to go.”
He kissed her forehead and stepped away.
Yully left him in the cottage, tugging the door closed behind her. She turned and gasped, staring at the large man before her. He was dressed in black, and his chiseled features and striking blue eyes were perfect enough to have been sculptured. For a long moment, she thought he was there to kill her, with his severe look and the ready stance.
His gaze dropped to the necklaces at her neck before he stepped aside. She fled around him and into the car, locking the doors and speeding away from the cottage.
“Really, Jule?”
Jule chuckled. He’d sensed the arrival of his brother just before Yully left the cottage. Dusty slammed the door behind him and entered the living room, his sharp gaze taking in every dark corner before he sat. The man looked like an ancient Greek prince with blond hair and chiseled features.
“I figured you’d never settle for a woman,” Dusty said. “Especially that one.”
“I don’t think we control it,” Jule replied, looking him over. “You’re pretty well armed for a social visit.”
“You just put me in an awkward position.”
Jule studied him. “You came to kill her.”
“The Watchers paid a visit to Damian. Little bastards said she had to die. They wanted your head, too, but Damian set ’em straight,” Dusty replied. “But yes, I came to kill her, until I saw the medallion.”
“This is going to give Damian some heartache with the Watchers.”
“Not at all. Damian will tell them to go to hell. He wouldn’t order your mate killed any more than he would his.”
“The thing is, I’m not sure she’ll make it out of this alive anyway,” Jule said and rubbed the back of his neck. “Damian and I spent months in Europe trying to figure out why our Guardians were disappearing here. The Others weren’t just helping Czerno, they were killing them off, too. My … mate’s house is sitting on the bodies of tens of thousands of Guardians.”
“Tell me she didn’t know,” Dusty said and sat forward. “If you want her gone …”
“No, Dusty,” Jule said. “She didn’t know. She’s in a rough spot.”
“We’ve figured out the Others are creating some sort of weapon.”
“Old news, Dust-man. She is the weapon.”
Dusty was quiet, and Jule searched the floor for his shirt and jacket. He had an Other to stalk.
“That doesn’t bode well for either of you,” Dusty said at last.
“Tell D if anyone kills her, it’ll be me,” Jule replied.
“It won’t come to that.”
“I hope not. I need some of your toys, Dusty.”
The assassin obliged without question, stripping off weapons and handing them to Jule. Jule positioned them around his body.
“D’s coming soon, Jule,” Dusty said quietly. “He’s getting ready to make a stand against the Other. Whatever you need to do, do it fast. The minute he sets foot in Ireland, there will be no way to keep things quiet.”
“Got it,” Jule said.
“I’ll let D know what’s going on. Take my phone. I’ll get another.”
“Dusty.” Jule looked up from strapping a knife to his calf and accepted the phone. “Thanks.”
The assassin gave a trace of a smile, closed his eyes, and disappeared.
Armed and ready, Jule Transported himself to the Guardians’ local station, where he startled Rourk.
“Contact my second-in-command, Sasha, and tell him to discreetly send me a couple dozen Guardians,” Jule ordered. “And, all the Naturals who can Transport.”
“Will do. Thought you might be interested in something I found in Sean’s notebook,” Rourk said and rose, handing it to him. “He’d long thought the girl and her father were unusual. He kept notes on when they visited town and where they went.”
Jule took it. Rourk had highlighted several portions of Sean’s tiny, neat writing.
“The girl visited the town nearly every weekend, and her father accompanied her once every few weeks. It’s all pretty boring stuff: shit they ate and drank, the license plates on their vehicles, typical surveillance stuff,” Rourk said. He leaned forward to flip a couple of pages. “Until you get to here. This was only a few days ago, when we all lost our magic.”
Jule read through the portion dated four days ago, when the Black God’s mantle had changed hands.
They stayed till closing, and I followed him out. He was driving … Jule skipped through the details of Yully’s car.… Another figure followed them. The unidentified male was seven feet tall, dark hair, with eyes that glowed like a vamp’s. I couldn’t read him; my powers were gone as of that morning. I obeyed the emergency protocol issued earlier in the day and didn’t approach the vamp. He followed the Other and the girl. The Other didn’t notice him, perhaps because of the strange issues affecting magic. The entry went on with no more mention of the mysterious vamp.
“I thought it was weird, because we haven’t seen a vamp in over a year anywhere in Ireland. I’d have noticed a seven-foot-tall vamp, and even if we didn’t, the Other would’ve,” Rourk said. “It might mean nothing, but I wanted to tell you.”
Xander. Jule recognized the description of the Original Vamp.
Another memory emerged, one that reminded him that long ago, he’d been assigned to ease Damian’s transition to the White God, which was how he met Cassandra, a human, in the mortal realm. An Original was released at the transition of a Black or White God in the mortal world to ensure the immortals didn’t try to take over during the vulnerable period when a new God learned his powers. Jule had chosen to stay with Cassandra instead of returning to the immortal realm when the Schism occurred.
Find me when you’re ready. The Oracle will know where I am, Xander had said.
“Jule?” Rourk asked at his silence.
“It means nothing.” Pulling himself from his spotty memories, Jule looked up at an expectant Rourk. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and he wasn’t about to worry Rourk more by admitting there was a seven-foot vamp with unlimited power loose somewhere. “I think Sean made a mistake.”
“I suspected as much,” Rourk said. “I think we’d know if there was one in town.”
Jule offered a smile and handed the journal back to the Guardian. “I’ll be back later. Watch your back until I have someone else assigned to station.”
“No worries,” Rourk said.
“I’ll bring in someone quick,” Jule said.
“I took Sean’s job at the pub. Figured it’d keep my mind off things,” Rourk replied. “Sean was like a brother to me.”
Jule heard the quiet note of sorrow in the Guardian’s voice. He and Sean had been assigned together at the station for over a decade. He patted Rourk on the shoulder.
“Do what you need to, Rourk. If you need a vacation or anything, take it.”
“Thanks, Jule.”
Spirits dampened, Jule watched Rourk leave for the pub before Transporting himself to the forest side of the Other’s property. He opened his senses. Yully wouldn’t be home yet, and there was no tingling of power that would indicate the Other was present. He Transported himself into Yully’s room and looked around briefly before stepping into the quiet hallway.
An hour later, he returned to Yully’s room empty-handed. He stood there, frustrated, as another thought hit him. He wasn’t sure what he s
ought, but he’d hoped to find some trace either of the Guardians the Other killed or the Other itself. The Other’s bedchamber had been empty, as if the otherworldly creature was permanently gone. Jule crossed to Yully’s wardrobe on a hunch and opened it. It, too, was empty, as if the Other had fled and was taking Yully with him.
The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he tensed, waiting for the creature to materialize.
“Are you done playing these games?” the Watcher asked.
“What games, Watcher? You have all the keys to this puzzle,” Jule replied. He faced the small man with glowing green eyes.
“You have them, too. You’re refusing to see that.”
“If I had the keys, I’d use them!”
“Xander visited you, didn’t he?”
“Nothing but a fever dream,” Jule said.
“You know that’s not true.”
“You want me to believe I’m an Original Being?” Jule asked, amused. “I have Guardian powers and nothing else.”
“If you returned to the immortal realm with me, I-- ”
“No.”
“So you’d rather stay here and watch the world fall apart,” the Watcher said. “You’ve always been a selfish creature, Jule. You chose a human and serving the White God over the immortal realm at the Schism, despite the need for your power by your fellow immortals.”
Jule was quiet, trying hard to remember something from before the Schism besides brief glimpses of Darian and Damian.
“If what you say is true, and I am an Original Being, I would’ve been released to ensure Damian’s transition to the White God went over smoothly. But it didn’t, did it,” he said slowly, thinking hard. “It couldn’t, not with you and the Others at war with each other. You tried to bring that war here.”
“Common knowledge the war spilled over,” the Watcher snapped.
“The only thing that prevented you from succeeding was …” Jule said. Tension hung in the air between them. “It was me, wasn’t it?”
The Watcher said nothing.
“And now, you want me and Damian to run the Others off,” Jule finished. “You’re using us.”
“I’m protecting you.”
Jule laughed. “Gods, I never thought I’d hear the truth from a vamp first!”
“If you find Xander, you must tell me where he is.” The Watcher stepped forward. “He hides from us too well.”
“Lucky bastard.”
The Watcher’s face reddened. “Jule, you don’t understand what-- ”
“I’m starting to understand,” Jule said, temper at its limit. “You exiled me for trying to protect the mortal realm. Did you see what I did as a betrayal, because I chose my role as a Guardian over helping you wipe out the Others and anyone else in the way?”
“I’ve tried to help you, Jule. Good luck finding her without me.” The Watcher disappeared in a flicker of light.
Jule felt the sudden loss of the connection between Yully and him like the heat going out on a cold winter night. Furious, he paced. Pissing off the Watchers was never a good thing. Despite their ambivalent position on humanity, they’d been somewhat helpful thus far. Yet no part of him regretted the idea of chopping them out of the picture completely. If he was what everyone seemed to think he was, he didn’t need them. He needed his power.
Find me when you’re ready. The Oracle will know where I am.
He needed to find a vamp named Xander.
Chapter Seven
“Hey,” Yully said, seating herself at the bar. The burly blond behind the counter looked up at her voice and smiled. “You took over for Sean?”
“Figured it’d keep me busy ’til Jule brings in someone else. I’m not much for being home alone,” Rourk replied. “It was good of you to come yesterday.”
“Thanks. I’m so sorry this happened.”
“Death is a part of the risk we take. Sean died well, doing his duty. Because of him, more humans are alive than would’ve been if he wasn’t a Guardian.”
“Are all Guardians like you and Jule?” she asked.
“As far as I know,” Rourk replied. “We all serve the same cause of protecting those weaker than us from evil.”
“That’s very noble of you.”
“It’s just what we do.” He set a glass of Coke on the counter before her. “You hungry? I hear they make a mean stew.”
“Thank you,” she said with a faint smile. He left to the kitchen, and her smile faded. She couldn’t help thinking about all the Guardians buried around her home and if they’d been as dedicated and noble as those she’d met. She sighed, aware she’d never know the answer to that question. What she knew was that her father and his lies had skewed her outlook on her world for ten years. Her father was dangerous, even if she didn’t yet know what he was trying to do.
“What luck.” His voice startled her. “Here for the stew or something else, my dear?”
Yully’s breath caught, and her thoughts went to the Guardian in the kitchen. She twisted to face her father.
“The stew, Father,” she replied. “But, I’m done.”
“Shall we?” He held out his arm.
She took it, his power moving through her and making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She didn’t relax until they emerged onto the street, away from the Guardian. Her father’s car and chauffeur were waiting. Yully climbed into the car. Neither spoke, and the chauffeur took them north, instead of south towards home.
“Where are we going, Papa?” she asked.
“Downpatrick, on the east coast. The autumn equinox is almost upon us. I want us to have a day to get settled before we perform the rite.”
“What rite is this? I know, I know, I’ll turn into a princess. But what exactly are we going to do?”
“Long ago, the heavens and the earth split from one another. It was a time of great tumult, and the gateway between the two realms was sealed away for eternity,” he explained. “Or so we thought. My kind always thought there was a way to reopen that gateway, and a few days ago, the gateway ruptured. At the autumn equinox, the gate is weakest. You’re going to open the gateway.”
“What will happen then?”
“You’ll turn into a princess,” he said with a cold smile.
“I don’t understand what that means, Father.”
“It means when the immortals reclaim the earth, you’ll be among the ruling party.”
“What’ll happen to everyone?” She braced herself for the answer.
“It depends. Those humans who are willing to serve the immortals will be spared, and those who aren’t, won’t.”
“I see.” Her pulse was flying, and her body cold. She wasn’t going to save humanity. She was going to help him enslave humanity.
“It will be a new start for us.”
“What happens to the Guardians?”
“After you drain their power, they’ll be given the same choice as the humans: serve or die.” He leaned forward, his eyes glowing. “I’ll forgive your indiscretion with the Guardian, my dear. Do as I say, and he’ll be your reward, an eternity with him. Disobey me, and I’ll kill him.”
She looked down, both thrilled by the idea of an eternity with the man who made her feel whole and horrified at what her father told her. A plan formed in her mind, and she cleared her throat.
“As you wish, Father,” she whispered. “I think I need more practice with my gift. I can’t control it yet.”
“We have a long drive. You can practice on me all you want.” He offered his hand. She took it and closed her eyes, determined to find a way to use her gift to counter her father’s magic.
Jule looked around Yully’s room, trying to digest everything he was learning about himself. He still couldn’t remember much more than what the Watcher and Original Vamp had told him. That he was an Original Being who had chosen to stay with Damian and a woman long since dead. He doubted the decision was made on emotion only; he’d never leave Damian to battle creatures like the Watchers and Others
on his own. Without even fully knowing why, Jule despised the two factions too much to abandon Damian-- and through Damian, humanity-- to them.
Whatever had happened in the immortal realm to make him hate the little bastards, he was glad the sense of distrust wasn’t wiped out with his memories. Jule Transported himself from the Other’s Irish manor to the study of the White God’s temporary headquarters in Texas. Damian appeared to be waiting for him, perched on the corner of a mahogany desk with his arms crossed.
“’Bout time,” Damian said before Jule’s eyes opened. “Something you wanna tell me?”
“You know me too well,” Jule said with a smile. “We need to talk, D.”
“I’d say so. I’ll send Dusty out to keep an eye on Ireland.” The White God bristled with power, but his smile was quick. The friendship between them stretched thousands of years, to just before the Schism. Gazing at his adopted brother and recalling everything they’d done to protect humans, Jule had no doubt giving up his life in the immortal world was worth it, despite Xander’s uncertainty.
“Thanks, D,” Jule said quietly.
“I called off the hit on your woman,” Damian said. His golden eyes were calm, and he was dressed as if he’d just finished sparring.
“Thanks, D,” Jule said again. “I never told you why I was exiled from the immortal world, mainly because I didn’t fully know why myself.”
“I take it now’s the time,” Damian said with a snort. “Start talking.”
“I don’t remember much of anything, D, but from what I’ve gathered, I was an Original Being tasked to help you navigate the transition to Godhood. I just refused to return. I’m remembering some things. Every time there’s a new era-- where either a Black or White God transitions-- an Original Being is released from whatever exile the immortals inflicted upon him. The hope is that the Original Being will oversee the transition and make sure none of the immortal entities interfere.”
“They’re doing a shitty job,” Damian said. “The Watchers and Others will wipe out everyone.”
“It’s worse than that. I ran into the Original Vamp already and am under the impression all the Original Beings are free. The Watchers must’ve done a number on me before I left. I can’t remember the time before the Schism, except for you and Darian, and my magic is but a fraction of what it once was.”