Soul Meaning (Seventeen)
Page 33
I gazed past Victor and quickly scanned the faces of the Bastians. ‘What happened to Olsson?’
Victor’s frown deepened. ‘He escaped when we were making our way here.’
Costas appeared behind Victor. ‘Have you seen Grigoriye?’ the Bastian immortal asked with a scowl.
‘Yes,’ I replied with a curt nod. ‘He left with Vellacrus and Thorne.’
An inscrutable expression appeared on Victor’s face. ‘We have Anna and your grandfather. And we’ve destroyed the labs.’ He paused. ‘What we do next is up to you.’
Costas’s face grew red. Before the Bastian noble could explode in a fury of angry words, I spoke quietly. ‘Let’s finish this.’
‘I agree,’ said Tomas Godard darkly.
We left Bruno and the rest of the Bastians fighting in the atrium while we headed for the doorway through which my grandmother and uncle had disappeared. Beyond it was a wide stone corridor. More Crovir guards appeared in our path and perished quickly at our hands. Victor and Costas lifted swords from the dead men.
A pair of lifts appeared at the end of the passage. The numbers on the indicator panel above the lintel glowed as the cabin on the left ascended into the fortress. I glanced at Victor with a frown. ‘There’s a helipad on one of the towers.’
Victor’s gaze shifted to the elevator on the right. ‘They’ll be expecting us if they see this one light up.’
I pressed a button, entered the lift and looked up. There was an access panel in the ceiling of the cabin. ‘I have an idea,’ I said thoughtfully.
A couple of minutes later, the doors of the elevator pinged open on the highest floor of the castle. Bullets riddled the metal interior as the group of Crovir Hunters standing outside emptied their guns.
Hidden in the compartment above the cabin, I waited until the roar of gunfire died down, hooked my knees on the edge of the opening and dropped my upper body backward. I lowered the Glock and the Smith & Wesson and squeezed the triggers rapidly. My shots never missed a single target.
I stared through the clearing gun smoke at the bodies of the dead Hunters before lowering myself to the floor of the lift and helping the others down. We proceeded swiftly along a deserted corridor and came to a spiral staircase carved in the wall of the castle. Ominous silence drifted from the steps above. I poked my head past the opening of the stairwell.
A bullet whizzed past my ear and struck the floor by my feet. I pulled back sharply. ‘Looks like this is the only way up,’ I muttered while further shots pinged off the walls.
Costas scowled. ‘I’ll go first,’ he said and moved towards the stairs.
I put a hand on his arm. ‘No. I’m the better shot.’
The Bastian noble stared at me angrily for several seconds. ‘Well, I can’t exactly argue with that,’ he said in a disgruntled tone.
I clipped a fresh magazine into the chamber of the Smith & Wesson and unsheathed the katana. ‘Be careful,’ said my grandfather. I stared into his blue gaze, nodded briskly and stepped into the stairwell.
Shots bounced off the blade as I climbed the first steps, Victor and Costas close at my back. I raised the gun and fired at the Crovir Hunters on the landing fifteen feet above. Bullets rained down and thudded into the rock next to me. Stone chips erupted from the wall and cut the skin on my exposed face and hands. I blinked and kept going.
Seconds later, the last Crovir immortal fell under the katana. I paused near the top of the stairs and scanned the hallway ahead. It was empty. We headed silently along it in single file.
Faint voices reached my ears after twenty feet. I tensed, my grip tightening on the handle of the blade, and turned a corner. My eyes widened. I froze.
Ahead of me was a circular chamber dotted with lancet windows that looked out on what remained of the night. The sound of waves drifted from the ocean far below.
Agatha Vellacrus and Felix Thorne were halfway across the floor and heading swiftly for an open door at the opposite end of the tower. Beyond it was a helipad where a twin-engined Bell 222 stood waiting. Grigoriye was several steps behind them. My heart slammed erratically against my ribs as my gaze shifted once more to the other two people in the room.
Olsson stood a dozen feet to my left. He was holding a gun to Anna’s head.
‘I’m sorry,’ Anna whispered hoarsely.
‘Reid?’ I said, meeting her tortured gaze.
‘He’s dead!’ said Olsson with a sneer. ‘I shot him and that other mongrel immortal.’
I was moving before he finished the sentence.
‘Put your weapons down or I’ll shoot her!’ Olsson shouted, his eyes shifting wildly around the room while he walked backwards, dragging Anna with him.
‘Don’t!’ cried Anna. ‘You have to stop them! They still have the virus!’
Costas growled and charged across the floor towards Grigoriye. Victor raised his gun and fired at Vellacrus and Thorne.
The wakizashi left my fingers, spun through the air and thudded into Olsson’s right shoulder. He gasped and stumbled against the wall, his finger squeezing the trigger of the Colt in his hand. The bullet left the barrel in a flash of light, hurtled an inch from Anna’s right eye and struck the stone ceiling.
Without pausing for breath, I lifted the Smith & Wesson and shot Olsson point blank in the chest. Blood bloomed across his torso. His eyes fluttered closed and he slumped silently to the floor.
Anna ran past me and fell into Tomas Godard’s arms. ‘Grandfather!’ she gasped brokenly. They hugged each other fiercely.
The sound of clashing blades erupted from the other side of the chamber as Costas and Victor engaged Grigoriye and Thorne. There was no sign of Vellacrus.
Grigoriye fell beneath Costas’s blade. As I headed towards Victor, Thorne’s sword slipped past his defence and pierced his abdomen just below his ribcage. A stunned gasp left the Bastian’s lips: he blinked and went still. Thorne pulled the blade out and moved to strike again.
The katana blocked the edge of his sword an inch from Victor’s neck. ‘This is between you and me, Uncle,’ I said coldly, my gaze never leaving Thorne’s face. Costas moved to Victor’s side and slowly lowered the bleeding immortal to the floor.
A twisted smile crossed Felix Thorne’s face. ‘Indeed it is,’ he hissed. A heartbeat later, his blade glided down the edge of mine and arched towards my chest. I leapt back and gripped my sword in both hands.
Thorne fought viciously and skilfully, his blade missing my flesh by inches over and over again as we moved around the tower. The katana danced and skimmed through the air, blocking his moves repeatedly while I searched for a weakness in his attack.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a figure appear in the doorway to the rooftop. It was Vellacrus. She had a gun in her hand and walked purposefully to where Anna and my grandfather kneeled on the floor and tended to Victor. I opened my mouth to shout a warning.
There was a flash of steel ahead of me; Thorne’s blade hummed millimetres past my face. I twisted and dropped to the ground. Thorne moved forward with a hungry expression and brought his sword down with a grunt. My eyes widened. I rolled out of the path of the swinging blade.
It struck the floor an inch from my head, raising sparks from the stone. Blood rushing loudly in my ears, I kicked him in the leg. Thorne stumbled against the wall. He straightened quickly, took a step forward and suddenly froze. The grey eyes widened in dull incomprehension.
‘No!’ Vellacrus screamed from the other side of the room.
Thorne looked down slowly. The katana was buried deep in his chest. Her face twisting in a mask of fury, Vellacrus raised her gun and shot Tomas Godard in the back. The latter gasped and dropped to the floor.
I looked around at a low chuckle. ‘Looks like you still lose, half-breed,’ Thorne gasped mockingly.
Rage darkened my vision. I yanked the katana out of his heart and watched him drop to his knees. He fell forward with a loud thud. Blood pooled in a growing crimson tide across the stone floor. I turned
and strode towards my grandmother, my chest burning in anger.
Vellacrus shifted. The gun in her hand moved to the woman next to Tomas Godard. My eyes widened in terror. I started to run.
Anna rose in front of our grandfather’s still form and stared fearlessly into the barrel of the pistol. My heart leapt wildly in my throat. Arms and legs pumping through air that suddenly felt too thick to move through, I waited for the sound of the shot, knowing I would be too late to stop it.
It never came.
Agatha Vellacrus seemed to freeze. Her face contorted in a mask of horror while she stared at Anna. ‘That necklace! Where did you get it?’ she shouted shrilly, pointing the gun at the sun cross pendant.
It had fallen out of the top of Anna’s hospital gown and lay against her chest. She touched the thick gold with the tips of her fingers. ‘It belonged to my mother,’ she replied defiantly.
‘Impossible!’ Vellacrus barked. ‘I gave Cecil that pendant on his eighteenth birth—’ Shocked fury replaced the horror on her face as she lapsed into abrupt silence. Vellacrus paled and slowly turned to Tomas Godard. My grandfather’s eyes opened: there was a triumphant look in the blue depths. ‘You knew?’ whispered Vellacrus, disbelief dropping the pitch of her voice.
‘Yes,’ Tomas Godard replied with more than a trace of satisfaction.
‘Knew what? What is it?’ said Anna. She stared in confusion from her grandfather to Vellacrus.
Godard’s gaze shifted to Anna’s face. ‘I’m sorry, child,’ he murmured, his expression sorrowful. ‘Remember when I told you all those years ago that I didn’t know who your father was?’
Anna nodded tremulously.
‘I lied,’ said Godard. He gripped her hand tightly.
‘What?’ gasped Anna, her eyes widening in incomprehension. ‘Why?’
A sudden intuition blasted through my consciousness. I felt my heart thud against my ribs.
‘Because your father was Cecil Thorne, Agatha’s eldest son,’ said Godard in the next breath, confirming my suspicion. His expression was heartrendingly sad as he stared at Anna. ‘They met when Balthazar and Catarine got married.’ Coughs suddenly racked his thin frame. He drew a rasping breath; a sliver of blood trickled past his lips. ‘Cecil and Lily managed to keep their relationship a secret for almost two hundred years,’ he continued in a weak voice. ‘Shortly after your birth, Cecil passed away. Your mother followed him to the grave months later.’ Godard raised a bloodied hand and touched his granddaughter’s face with shaking fingers. ‘I’m sorry I never told you.’ Anguish distorted his voice. ‘After what happened with Lucas, I thought it best to keep your existence a secret.’
Realization dawned on Vellacrus’s face. She stared from Anna to me, the grey eyes wild. ‘Then that means—’
‘Yes!’ Godard interrupted grimly. ‘The precious blood you wanted, the one that would have made your plans come true? It was running through our grandson’s veins all along!’
At these words, Agatha Vellacrus finally snapped. A savage cry left her lips and she levelled the gun at Godard’s head.
Her finger never squeezed the trigger.
Vellacrus turned slowly and stared into my eyes for timeless seconds; it was the closest I had ever been to my grandmother. I stepped back and pulled the katana out of her chest. She fell to the ground, anger clouding her open eyes even in death.
My fingers loosened on the handle of the blade. It clattered to the stone floor next to my feet. I sagged to my knees by my grandfather’s side, my heart hammering painfully against my ribs. Blood still pooled from the wound in his back. ‘How—’ I said brokenly, looking at Anna in dull incomprehension.
Anna’s eyes glistened. ‘He has already died sixteen times,’ she whispered. She cradled the old man’s head in her lap, her tears landing on his face.
Our grandfather blinked. A faint smile dawned on his lips. ‘It’s my time to go,’ he said with a trace of relief. ‘I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.’ The blue gaze shifted to me. ‘I’m so glad we had this time together. I want you to know that I always loved ... you.’ With these words, Tomas Godard finally died.
Anna buried her face in his chest, her muffled sobs filling the room. Numbness spread through me as I gazed at the man who had come to mean so much to me. Victor shifted on the floor and clasped Godard’s hand tightly, his face pale with grief.
‘We should—’ Costas started gruffly.
The sound of a gunshot suddenly blasted across the chamber. I turned wildly, the Smith & Wesson in one hand while my fingers closed over the handle of the katana.
Reid stood in the doorway to the castle. He slowly lowered the Glock and clutched at the wound beneath his left clavicle with a painful wince. My gaze shifted to the far side of the tower.
Olsson slumped against the wall again, his eyes wide in stunned surprise beneath the bullet wound in his forehead.
‘I told him I was gonna shoot him,’ Reid muttered.
Shocked relief washed over me, taking some of the numbness away. ‘You’re alive,’ I said simply.
‘Yeah, well, it’ll take more than a bunch of immortals to get rid of me,’ Reid said with a frown. ‘Besides, someone has to watch your back.’ His gaze shifted to the still figure between Anna and me. His eyes darkened.
Footsteps rose behind him. Anatole appeared; blood was oozing from a nasty wound in the immortal’s right flank. ‘What did we miss?’ he said with a grin. His expression sobered when he looked around the room. ‘Oh. A lot, by the looks of it.’
Moments later, Reznak and Friedrich entered the tower with a crowd of Crovir and Bastian Hunters. ‘The rest of your father’s army just arrived,’ Reznak told Victor briskly. ‘We’ve secured the island.’ He paused when he caught sight of Godard. A sad light dawned in his eyes.
Victor pushed away the helping hands around him and slowly climbed to his feet. ‘Make sure we destroy the virus,’ he murmured. ‘Vellacrus still had some with her.’
He came to my side as I rose silently from the floor, the body of my grandfather cradled in my arms. We walked out onto the rooftop, Anna following in our footsteps.
In the sky ahead, the sun rose on a new day and a flock of black crows descended from the heavens.
PART THREE: RESOLUTION
Epilogue
The sound of an engine rose faintly in the distance. I looked up from the paper in front of me and shaded my eyes with one hand. On my lap, Cornelius’s ears twitched slightly. The cat raised its head and followed my gaze.
Sun beams danced across emerald green waters, the light almost blinding in its radiance. A slight wind rippled over the ocean surface and raised an army of small, foam-tipped waves that crashed onto a white beach. The roar of the motor grew louder. A black speedboat appeared around the head of the cove and made for a jetty in the shallow lagoon several hundred feet to my left.
I rose from the wicker chair and walked to the edge of the veranda that fronted the two-hundred-year-old colonial house I now called my home. ‘Anna?’ I said over my shoulder.
Soft steps sounded behind me. ‘Yes?’ Anna came out through the patio doors and paused by my side. ‘Oh. Our visitors are here.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll make some drinks.’ She kissed me on the cheek, turned and disappeared inside the house.
‘Did I hear someone mention the word “drinks”?’ a voice gasped to my right. Reid appeared around the corner of the house. ‘Could I have a splash of whisky in mine?’ Sweat poured down his face and he breathed heavily from his run around the island. The golden retriever puppy panting at his side stopped in its tracks and turned towards the approaching boat. The animal’s back visibly stiffened. It let out a series of sharp barks, its tail wagging furiously while it leapt forward and back excitedly. ‘I don’t know whether that means “Stay off my island or I’ll bite you” or “Please come and play with me”,’ Reid muttered, shaking his head sadly. ‘And who the hell names a dog Peanut?’
‘I heard that!’ Anna shouted from the ho
use.
The speedboat glided to a stop behind the hundred-foot luxury yacht already moored at the landing. A man jumped out and secured the vessel to the pier. A second man climbed onto the wooden jetty and looked around with evident interest. Seconds later, the pair made their way up towards the house.
‘This is a nice place you’ve got here,’ said Dimitri Reznak as he climbed the steps to the veranda.
‘Thanks.’ I shook his hand briskly and turned to the man behind him. ‘It’s good to see you again.’
Victor Dvorsky grasped my hand tightly and smiled. ‘Same here.’ His gaze shifted to my side. ‘Hello, Reid.’ Reid nodded to the two men. Anna came out of the house with a tray of drinks. Victor walked across, kissed her on the cheeks and took it off her. ‘My dear, you look as lovely as ever,’ he muttered.
A month had passed since the death of Tomas Godard.
Ironically, Olsson’s demise at Reid’s hands had also been his final one.
Following the release of the Red Death on the Crovirs’ island fortress, those who had been exposed to the virus were quarantined and successfully treated with an antiserum Anna made from a sample of my blood. A lot had changed in the immortal world since. Roman Dvorsky had gracefully retired as head of the Order of Bastian Hunters the day after the battle with the Crovirs; he passed the mantle on to his son without any objections from the Councils, although he continued in his role as a senior advisor. Dimitri Reznak had temporarily taken over as leader of the Order of Crovir Hunters until a suitable replacement could be appointed.
After the unprecedented menace posed by Vellacrus and her army of faithful followers, both immortal First Councils had committed to working closely together in an attempt to subvert any similar future threats. It said a lot for Victor’s and Dimitri’s influences that such an unparalleled agreement had been made in so short a time. There were many still amongst both factions who disapproved of this new alliance between the Bastians and the Crovirs, and there would undoubtedly be challenges ahead for the two leaders, but so far the fragile peace was holding.