* * *
"I'll agree to leave things as they are for now, but that's still my son," Aedan said. "I feel I have much to atone for, where Ashe is concerned."
"He did mention getting a car, but I've already made arrangements to get it for him. The Council paid for his services before he was given the drug."
"What car?" Aedan's interest was immediate.
"A classic car, actually," Winkler admitted. "Said he wanted it mostly for show. I had Loren make the purchase this morning while Ashe was studying. It'll be delivered this weekend."
"I will reimburse you."
"Aedan, I paid seventy thousand for it."
"I don't care. I should have bought one for his birthday. I know how disappointed he was over that."
"We can split it."
"I will pay."
"All right. I'll forward a copy of the invoice."
"Thank you."
* * *
"Do you think he's trying to buy his son's affection back?" Trajan asked after Winkler ended the call.
"Maybe. I'm not sure how Ashe will react."
"The kid needed his parents, and they weren't there for him. All Aedan's fault, seems to me."
"Yeah. Look, what are we going to do if the kid is right about Wildrif?"
"That sounds plain scary, boss."
"I thought Wildrif was crazy as hell before. What do you think he might do as a vampire?"
"I don't want to think about it. And if he's making the turn, what's he gonna do if he wakes up hungry and there's no sire to feed him?"
"People will probably die."
"Yeah."
* * *
It had taken a bribe, but Dawn finally managed to get a room at a motel. The walls were cracking, the bed sagged in the middle and the hot water was barely warm. The desk clerk had accepted a one-hundred-dollar bribe in addition to the cost of the room, but it was a room in the barest sense of the word.
"At least there aren't any bugs," Dawn growled as she hefted her bag onto the creaking bed. Her phone needed charging, but as soon as that was accomplished, Dawn intended to find Sara's address. In a day or so, the timid shapeshifter would be dead and Dawn would be on her way to Canada in wolf form.
* * *
"How are the classes?" Trace sat beside Ashe the following morning as Ashe read his English Comp assignment at breakfast. "You get to lift weights this morning, since the bullet wound looks like it's healed." Trace grinned as Flossie put a plate of food in front of him.
"Some of it's boring. Stuff I've already read or researched for papers," Ashe said. "History, especially."
"Then passing tests will be a piece of cake."
"Got two tests on Friday. I have until Monday to turn everything in for the week."
"Too bad they didn't have an online option when I was in school," Trace said.
"You being such an old man and all," Ashe teased.
"That just earned you extra time on the weight bench," Trace's grin widened.
"Bring it on, dude."
* * *
"Dr. Dillon will be here until six, if you want to bring your cat in," the receptionist replied to Dawn's question. "It would be better if you can get here earlier, though, so you both won't be here so late."
"Will she be there alone if I don't get there before six?"
"No, her assistant will be here, too."
"Thanks. I'll try to come early, then." Dawn hung up and cursed Sara's assistant, who seemed to be just as conscientious as Sara Dillon, DVM. Dawn would have to wait for Sara to leave work and follow her home.
* * *
"How did you know about Wildrif, if you don't have your mojo back?" Trace asked as Ashe lifted weights.
"Had a visit from Griffin the other day," Ashe grunted as he bench-pressed two hundred pounds. "Told me he couldn't interfere with the drug in my system, but that the answer to my problem was around my arm. Winkler didn't tell you?"
"He didn't say much. Are you talking about those medallions?"
"Yeah. Accidentally asked one of them a question, but it gave me an answer."
"Kid, while I normally think you're scary, that's even scarier. Does it bother you that those things seem to have a mind of their own?"
"No. It's what they were made for." Ashe huffed a breath before lifting the weights again.
"There's barely a mark where the bullet hit you," Trace examined Ashe's right arm as it was extended.
"I think two of these medallions are for healing," Ashe lowered the weights. "Might explain the quick recovery."
"Two?"
"There are two of each. Two for knowledge, two for healing, two for strength and two for foresight. I got lucky and asked one of the knowledge medallions what I needed to know."
"It told you?" Trace shook his head in wonder.
"Not with words. With images. It's easier that way, to get around language barriers."
"Will they answer anybody?"
"No. Just the person they've chosen, or the person chosen by those who hold the crowns."
"The Bright Queen and the Dark King could say where these went?"
"Yeah. Until I came along. They chose me and cut out the middle Elemaiya."
"Can you choose to give them away?"
"If I want. Right now, I need them."
"I hear that. Do you know how long you'll be down because of that drug?"
"Yeah."
"How long?"
"What time is it now?"
"Ten-thirty-three."
"Then it'll be six days, seven hours and twenty-seven minutes."
"Good with math, huh?"
"I guess. Trace?"
"What?"
"Don't tell anybody except Trajan and Mr. Winkler about the time thing."
"Okay. Wasn't planning to tell anybody else, but I won't for sure, now."
"Thanks."
* * *
"Ashe, your father and I had a talk last night, and he says you're upset. We also talked about Mr. Winkler being your guardian."
Adele had called while Ashe was running on the beach. Trace and Ashe had slowed to a walk so Ashe could answer his mother's call.
"Mom, I don't want to do anything about that right now," Ashe said, stopping in mid-step and turning his eyes toward the east to watch the waves washing ashore. Trace stopped as well and stood a discreet distance away.
"Honey, your father said he made a mistake and made you think we'd abandoned you. I realize something happened or I would never have dated Buck while your father was gone. We're together again, and that's how it's going to stay."
"Look, this is, well, it's painful," Ashe shaded his eyes as the sun broke through low clouds hanging overhead.
"But we still love you, honey."
"I know. I'm just trying to get past recent events."
"Aedan said to let you make up your own mind on this, but I really wish you'd come home more often. You only have a few clothes left here at the house. Everything else is gone."
"I know. I think I want to leave things as they are for now. Maybe I can tell you what I want in a few days."
"All right, but I'll ask you again in a week if you haven't made a decision."
"That's fine."
"I'll fix meatloaf if you'll come home Thursday night. I have that evening off."
"I'll try to be there."
"I love you, hon."
"Yeah." Ashe ended the call and wiped wetness off his cheeks. Trace started running down the beach. Ashe caught up with him. Eventually.
* * *
"She will meet with you. In four days, my King." Laridael handed the message to Baltis, confirming his words.
"Good." Baltis couldn't help but release a sigh. "Laridael?"
"What, my King?"
"What has brought us to this?"
"May I speak my mind, my King?"
"Of course."
"Since I was a child, all I have seen between the races is bad blood, hatred and death. What has brought us to this, my King? How did
this start?"
"I am the eighth King, in a long line of Kings. Old tales said it had something to do with the first King, but I have no knowledge of it. It was not given to me when I destroyed my predecessor and took the throne. I imagine that Friesianna is the same, although she is only the fourth to hold the Bright throne."
"I was born shortly after she came to the throne, and have no knowledge of what came before that."
"I am twice her age, and in my lifetime, things have gotten worse as time passed."
"Do you think any of it might come to an end?"
"Do you know the Legend of the Ir'Indicti, as it is written in the H'Morr?" Baltis asked. "Yes, I have read that cursed book," he added at Laridael's shocked expression.
"No, my King. I have never heard it. I have only heard rumors."
"Ir'Indicti is an ancient word in our language," Baltis said, settling on his throne and flipping back the red robes he wore. "It means Rebuilder, as well as I can determine. You have to understand the ancient language, however, to realize that this Rebuilder will rebuild from the ashes of our races. That our people will die, first, before they can be raised up again. The H'Morr says the Ir'Indicti will attempt to take both crowns. Should he do so, it will leave the races defenseless."
"If he is successful, will he kill us, then?"
"The H'Morr is quite vague in that area, so I cannot say for sure. It does say that after the crowns are taken, if we ally with an ancient and deadly enemy, justice will come."
"What kind of justice?"
"I do not know and the H'Morr does not explain it."
"This is quite frightening, my King."
"It is. That is why the boy must die—I will not give up my crown. The Dark race will survive." Baltis clenched his fists in determination. Laridael nodded respectfully at his monarch's resolve.
* * *
"We have much to do to prepare for the meeting. I do not have time to listen to your bluster about that blasted book!" Friesianna swished her skirts and turned away from Rabis, dismissing him from her presence.
"My Queen, calm yourself. We will have the advantage in this," Parlethis smoothly interjected as Rabis left Friesianna's tent. "That book is a worthless piece of parchment and a waste of the writer's time. It contains nothing but lies and tales to frighten children."
"You are correct," Friesianna snapped. "Where is my tea? Why have they not brought it?"
"It is coming, my Queen," Parlethis soothed.
* * *
"What's wrong?" Loren saw Ashe rubbing his forehead.
"Something, I just can't put my finger on it," Ashe mumbled. Ashe had come to Andy's old office to help Loren with another computer problem. Halfway through, Ashe began to fidget and then rub his forehead. "Can we finish this later? I think I need to go to my room for a little while."
"Sure. Whenever you're ready. I have other stuff I can do."
"Thanks, Loren." Ashe almost ran from the office, heading for the stairs and his room on the third floor.
* * *
"Show me what I need to know," Ashe hissed, frightened beyond comprehension. Something was happening, he just couldn't determine what it was.
* * *
"Trajan, will you get a company credit card for Flossie, so she can buy groceries without dipping into petty cash?" Winkler asked his Second.
"Sure, boss," Trajan nodded.
Neither he nor Winkler missed the shouted, "No!" coming from Ashe's bedroom. Both were out the door and running toward Ashe's suite in a blink.
* * *
I need help! Ashe wailed in mindspeech. Would anyone hear him? Could anyone respond to his desperate cry for help? He was terrified and helpless to provide assistance where it was most needed.
* * *
"You think you'll live to marry my son, you sorry excuse for a shifter?"
Sara stared in terror at the gun in Dawn Smith's hand. Her death was coming swiftly. She knew it. Dawn was crazed and angry, her eyes going feral. If the bullet didn't take her down, Sara knew Dawn's werewolf would.
"Randall hasn't asked me. Why do you think he would?" Sara quavered, attempting to delay the inevitable. Her cell was in her purse, but there was no way to call 911; Dawn had taken the purse away the moment she'd appeared behind Sara, who'd been innocently unlocking her front door after driving home.
"Oh, he has it bad for you. I know the signs. I'm here to remove that temptation. He'll have to find someone else when you're dead. Somebody more suitable for the son of a werewolf."
"But what if I have no intention of marrying him?"
"You do. I saw it in your eyes whenever you looked at him. That would be a mistake, and one I'm here to prevent. Back up against that wall, over there. I want as much blood spatter as I can get from your worthless body." Dawn waved the gun at Sara, indicating the wall separating Sara's living area from the kitchen. The wall's surface was painted white, and the red of Sara's blood would make a definite contrast against it.
* * *
"What's wrong, kid?" Trajan had outpaced Winkler and burst into Ashe's bedroom first. Winkler skidded in behind Trajan.
Ashe blinked at both werewolves in terror as a voice—a male voice—filtered into his mind.
You ask, Mighty One. I answer.
* * *
"Maybe I'll kill you as wolf. No bullets left behind," Dawn snarled as Sara cringed. "Turn. Turn to that helpless little bunny. I feel hungry." Dawn's teeth were bared as she made the demand.
"You will not."
Dawn stared in shock at the man who'd appeared. Sara turned her eyes to the one who'd appeared beside her before sliding down the wall in a faint.
"I'll kill you for interfering." Dawn aimed her pistol at the newcomer and fired.
Chapter 16
The bullet never reached its target, leaving Dawn blinking in surprise. Aiming the gun, she attempted to fire again.
"Clumsy weapons, these," the pistol disappeared from her hand and reappeared in the newcomer's grip. "It is useless against me." The gun turned to dust and became sparks that dripped from his hand. Dawn blinked in horror before attempting to turn and run.
"No, you will not leave," the man smiled grimly. At any other time, Dawn might have stared at him for another reason—he had the face of an angel.
"Who are you?" Dawn almost stuttered her question.
"I call myself Li'Neruh Rath. In an ancient language, it means Darkest Star. The one who serves the Dark Realm beneath me made a mistake long ago. He promised not to interfere with the Dark races. I made no such promise, and I will rectify part of that mistake now, at the request of one above me. Tell me, do you wish to die at my hand, here, or do you prefer to submit to the justice of your own race? It matters not to me what you choose."
Dawn trembled as the man lifted a hand, as if examining his fingernails. Only the nails lengthened until they were black claws, and his body changed. Grew. At least seven feet tall, he became a creature of nightmares, his body turning to black scales. Horns extended from his forehead and curved around pointed ears, much like a ram's might. Eyes widened and became a deep red, while flames licked their depths. Smoke curled from wide, flattened nostrils as he breathed.
"I—I'll, I choose my race's justice," Dawn whimpered. Something held her up—some sort of power, otherwise she would have dropped to the floor in fear.
"Very well," the voice had become rough and guttural, as if he weren't used to speaking in the form he'd taken. "Go." He waved a hand and Dawn shrieked as she was jerked away from Sara's home in a Chicago suburb and dumped in front of Marcus DeLuca, as he was finishing dinner with his family.
* * *
"We have her restrained, but she's crazy," Marcus reported to Winkler and the Grand Master on a conference call. "I wouldn't have believed half the crap she's saying, except she was dumped on my kitchen floor from thin air."
"Any chance she might escape?" The Grand Master asked. "I'd like to be in on the questioning."
"I'll make sure she's guar
ded at all times," Marcus replied. "How quickly can you be here?"
"By tomorrow evening, at the latest," Weldon said. "Hold her until then."
"I'll make sure she's guarded well. Not sure she'd go anywhere, anyway. She just keeps babbling about the devil who kept her from killing Randy's girlfriend."
"She was in Chicago?"
"About to shoot Sara Dillon, Randy's shapeshifting girlfriend, yes," Marcus confirmed.
"Does Randy know about this?"
"I think I'll have Nathan tell him, as soon as the vamps are up. Ask him to place compulsion, too, not to interfere with his mother's judgment."
"Probably a good idea. This isn't going to go well, any way you look at it."
"Yeah."
* * *
Ashe fingered the medallions circling his arm gently, as if they were tender to the touch. Winkler found him like that, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside his bed.
"Ashe?" Winkler's voice was soft.
"She got James Johnson killed," Ashe said.
"Dawn?"
"Yeah. Made up some story that she wanted to see him about Randy. She knew Randy kept in touch with James. They were best friends." Ashe stopped stroking the medallions and dropped his hand.
"She got past the barrier?"
"After she lied to James. Paul Harris wasn't the only one involved with the Elemaiya. He was only involved with the Dark side. Dawn was feeding information to both sides, through Josiah Dunnigan at the time."
"Not good. Why did she want James dead?"
"She wanted information from him. He refused. She called the Elemaiya, who'd followed her inside the barrier. James knew they were trouble and tried to run to Marcus, to let him know we were under attack. Instead of challenging him herself, Dawn Smith sent those two Dark Elemaiya after him. Watched while they killed him, too. The Elemaiya went to Mr. Harris afterward and told him that James had seen them accidentally and was running to tell Marcus, so they had to kill him. Mr. Harris told them to dump the body behind our house, to make it look like Dad or one of the vampires was involved. When Mr. Harris got caught, he gave us what he thought was the truth. He never knew Dawn was in it, more than he was."
"But you were supporting Randy's cause through all this."
"Because Randy didn't know about his mother. I didn't know about his mother, either, until just before we got Josiah. Things started coming to me, then. I was hoping, when she didn't participate in Josiah's attempted takedown, that she'd had a change of heart. That obviously wasn't the case."
Legend of the Ir'Indicti 5 - Destroyer Page 18