by J. R. Ward
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, sure as if a hand brushed his nape.
Stiffening, he sent his instincts out--and knew that there was someone right behind him.
Knew instantly who it was, too.
Closing his eyes, he shook his head and sagged with defeat. "It's you. Isn't it. She picked you."
As the second bottle finished filling up, he took the thing out of the fountain and slowly turned around.
Lassiter, the fallen angel, stood with his feet planted on the white marble floor. His entire body was lit from within, and stretching out on either side of his torso was a magnificent pair of iridescent wings.
Glowing as he was, he was one of the most beautiful sights Vishous had ever seen, as awe-inspiring as a mountain range, as arresting as a perfect sunset, as broad as the ocean, as high as the heavens.
He was too much to be contained in any kind of form, and V blinked, not because things were necessarily that bright, but because the signals that his optic nerves were sending to his brain were too strong, too many, too resonant.
Lassiter's voice echoed throughout the Sanctuary even though he did not speak out loud. I bring greetings from your mahmen. Rise, and know that you are blessed in this life as you are her son and you are worthy.
V got to his feet with a mind of shutting those blessings down, fuck him very much. But then he thought of Jane and canned the anger.
Still, he felt compelled to say "I don't believe in my mother."
Belief is not required.
For some reason, that unsettled him. Maybe because it meant someone else was driving destiny's bus--but like he hadn't already figured that out?
"She doesn't exist anymore. She's out."
That which is not alive cannot die. It is as time, extant and all around whether acknowledged or not.
Abruptly, and against his will, the shit came out, the fucking shit that he didn't want to admit, even to himself...the cocksucking shit that had been bothering him ever since he had come up here and found that dumb-ass, emo missive she'd left for him and him alone:
"Why wasn't it me?" he heard himself ask. "If I am her son, why didn't she pick me to succeed her?"
It was the height of narcissism to even wonder such a goddamn thing in passing. To admit it to anyone, much less Lassiter, FFS, made V feel like a candidate for a bitch slap across the crybaby.
Lassiter reached out a hand, but he didn't touch V. He stopped about two inches in front of Vishous's chest.
Even though there was no direct contact between them, a warm feeling lit off inside V's chest and grew in intensity until it suffused his entire being--and him, being him, he thought...man, it was going to suck to come down from this high.
Except then...he realized that the warmth had a pitch, like a song would, a hum that was specific to one and only one entity he had ever been around.
This was his mahmen, he realized. This sense of love enveloping him was...her.
She has not disappeared. She is still with us and with you. Lassiter lowered his hand. And she did not pick you not because she didn't love you, but because she did.
Even though Lassiter wasn't rocking the glow-motional connection anymore, Vishous could still feel the sensation deep in his bones. And as he pictured the Scribe Virgin's diminutive figure in her black robes, with that white light shining out from under her hem, the warmth re-intensified.
She is in all of us. She missed her creation up here, and when she freed herself, she was able to reenter us. She is not gone--she is back where she started and happiest for it.
At that moment, a movement out of the corner of V's eyes drew his attention to the colonnade in front of his mother's bedroom suite--and when he saw what it was, he was both utterly astonished...and completely unsurprised.
It was a black cat. But not just any black cat.
It was Beth, the Queen's black cat. The one she had brought with her to the mansion all those years ago.
As V's stare met its glowing green one, a sacred aura surrounded the feline, and he realized She had been with them all along. From the very beginning, She had been with them...right in their midst without them even knowing it.
With a feeling of inevitability and peace, the last of V's puzzle pieces fell into place, the hole that had been vacant filled with an answer to a question he hadn't been aware of asking for all these years.
Yes, Lassiter said, in spite of her faults, she always loved you and your sister, and now she can show you. And she always loved her creation, too--and now she can show that as well. Therefore, close your eyes and see what is to come as only you can. You must guide the end, do you understand? You shall guide the end--
* * *
--
"--Vishous? V, wake up, sweetheart--"
V bolted upright in the dark, sweat pouring off his face, chest screaming in suffocation, heart pounding.
Only Jane's voice and scent were able to reach him through his panic, and even then, he wasn't sure what in the hell was going on.
Throwing out a hand, he grabbed on to her and held her close--and as he felt her arms tighten on him, he started to shake. But it was only a dream, he told himself. What he'd just seen was only a dream--a weird, fucked-up contortion of him having had a late day, and Lassiter-binge-watching TV in the billiards room, and finally the carbonara served at Last Meal.
"I'm okay," he said into Jane's soft, fragrant neck. "I'm all right..."
"You're just fine. Shhh..."
She stroked his hair and his shoulders, soothing him until he released the tension in his body. When he finally went limp, he collapsed back onto the pillows and urged her on top of him.
"What were you dreaming about?" she asked.
The images that came to him were too disturbing, so he shook his head. "I don't know. I don't...I can't think about it."
"Okay. That's all right."
"What time is it?"
There was the sound of covers rustling as she twisted around to see the clock by her side of the bed. "Almost six p.m. We'll both be late if we don't get up soon."
"Can we just lie here for a little bit?"
"Absolutely."
V tried to close his eyes, but that was not a good idea as it just brought the strangeness back. Then again, open and in the pitch-black didn't work, either.
Willing the lights in their bedroom on, he was instantly calmed further. Everything was just so prosaic and as-it-should-be that context came easily--and in the right direction. All was well and normal.
Just a dream.
He looked at Jane. "I love your face."
"I love yours, too." She smiled. "And you're most handsome when you just wake up."
V leaned and kissed her, and the next thing he knew he was mounting her and penetrating her sex with his own. Which was even better than the lights coming on, he decided as he began to pump, the pleasure wiping away the dregs of whatever that weirdness had been.
As he started to orgasm, and his female came along with him, he turned his head--
Through the open doorway into the bathroom, he saw that there were two Mountain Dew bottles sitting by the sinks, both filled to the very top, their labels facing out toward him.
"Damn it," he muttered as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Sure, that shit about his mom was fine. But Lassiter, it appeared, was the race's new boss.
Great. Nothing like putting a five-year-old behind the wheel of a car and giving the little shit the car keys.
Big ol' angel wingspans aside, the ride, which had already not been all that smooth, was about to get bumpier than a motherfucker.
FIFTY-SEVEN
Sola woke up in total confusion. She couldn't remember where she was, and the remnants of a dream about vampires lingered--
Oh, wait.
That wasn't a nightmare. And yup, she was still in their underground facility, out in the corridor, sitting on the hard floor next to the door to her grandmother's room. Her butt was flat as a pan
cake, somehow managing to be both numb and painful as a result of cushioning her weight for--what time was it? How long had she been asleep--
All at once, her thoughts slowed to a halt and she looked across the way. Assail was seated in a mirrored pose, his legs stretched out, his head down chin on chest, as if he were asleep, too.
She hadn't heard him come out to sit with her.
Looking around, she found that they were alone together, no medical staff walking about, none of the other people she'd met during her time here in sight, either.
Down at the far end of the corridor, she could just barely see the exit that she'd come and gone out of how many times now?
She thought back to when Assail had brought her here as a patient. She had been in such rough shape--head injury, shot in the leg, traumatized to all hell and gone. Doc Jane in particular had been so kind to her. Hell, the woman had been kind to her all along--
From above, there was a rhythmic sound, like a machine turning over, and then she felt a warm fall of air hit the top of her head. Glancing up, she measured the vent that was some ten feet overhead. When she lowered her chin, she jumped.
Assail had woken up and was looking at her with those sad eyes of his. When he didn't speak, she cleared her throat.
"I've wanted to ask you something," she said in a quiet voice. "Why don't you just scrub my memories now? I mean, if you can do it, why not simply make all this go away? That way you won't feel as bad."
Why was she worried about where he was at? she wondered.
"I will always feel badly and it would hurt you." He motioned to his head. "If someone has had their memories stripped, but they're around the very thing that has been taken from them, it is very painful."
"Oh."
At that moment, there was a ringing sound and he took out a cheap-looking cell phone. "Pardon me." After she shrugged, he accepted the call. "Hello? Yes. How kind of you. Yes. In person? Where? When?" There was a pause. "How accommodating of you. Fine. I will be there, yes."
He hung up and stared at the phone. "I am going to be putting the Brotherhood in touch with a distributor for arms. I must go and meet with her in person. You mentioned you would like to collect your things. Perhaps we can depart soon and get you ready to go? I do not believe the Brotherhood will allow you to bring your car onto the premises. However, we can drive it out from my house, and pack it somewhere safe, such that you will not have to return to my property ever again."
Assail looked over at her. "You will be free to go as soon as your grandmother is released. Just as you wish. And I promise not to interfere with any of your...I will not get in your way."
"Will you be coming back here with me?"
His chest--which was even larger now, it seemed--expanded as he inhaled. "I should be the one to rid you of your memories. I will do the most thorough job because I have been there for so many of your experiences."
"Oh. Okay."
"So would you like to leave with me the now?"
"I should speak to my grandmother first." Assuming the old woman would grant her an audience without trying to hit her with a bedpan. "But yes. Thank you."
"I shall arrange for transport. Excuse me."
As he got to his feet, there were several cracks as if his spine were realigning itself, and then he walked slowly and stiffly toward the office she had gone through with Doc Jane.
Sola watched him go. And was surprised to find that, like him, she was very sad.
Trying not to dwell on that, she dragged herself off the floor and stretched until things resettled into a more functional order. And then she knocked politely on the closed door she had been sitting vigil next to.
"Vovo," she said softly. "May I please come in?"
* * *
--
As Assail emerged from the office, he was grateful for Vishous being so accommodating. The Brother had just woken up, and yet he was willing to skip First Meal and come down immediately to get Marisol to the glass house for her things. Assail had also contacted Ehric and explained what had happened and why Marisol needed some privacy on the property. Thus his cousins were going to take Markcus out for the evening.
Assail didn't want her to have to see all of those males. She'd been through enough.
Although now his cousins were heartbroken, too. It was funny how those two females turned that mansion into a home. Without them, it was just glass walls and a view that mostly couldn't be seen because of the drapes he kept down all the time.
In the end, Assail had decided not to mention the meet-up with the arms dealer to his cousins or to Vishous--because he wasn't sure exactly who he was communicating with. He didn't want to waste Vishous's time if this was an underling--or worse, members of the human-law enforcement agencies on a fishing expedition. And his cousins were frustrated and trigger-happy on a good night. Finding out that they were going to lose what felt like members of the family was not going to help that.
Further, the woman on the other end of the call had requested that he come alone.
So fine, he would go meet her after Marisol was taken care of. And he would return to the training center only when his female was ready to leave.
It wasn't good for her to be stuck seeing him all the time.
And she wasn't his female anymore, anyway.
Just as he was coming up to Mrs. Carvalho's room, Marisol stepped out and rubbed her eyes. He wanted to ask her if everything was all right, but he didn't think she would tell him--and besides, he knew that answer already.
He cleared his throat so she would realize he was there. "We're just waiting for--"
"I'm here," Vishous announced as the Brother came out of the office. "Let's do this. The Mercedes is down here for a wash. We'll take that car."
Vishous nodded at the two of them and then strode by, heading for the exit.
Assail indicated the way forward for Marisol. "After you."
"Thank you."
As the three of them walked along, Assail guessed the formality between Marisol and him was better than anger or sorrow. Fates, when she had cried in front of him, and told him the story of her father, he had never felt so small in his life. To have taken her back to that terrible moment--because he had done something similar--was to put a curse upon her.
When their trio came to the heavy steel door at the end of the corridor, Vishous held things open, and then they proceeded across the parking area to a black S600 that sparkled in the fluorescent lights.
"You're both in the back," V informed them.
Assail opened one of the rear doors for Marisol, and then he went around and got in himself. The sedan was so long, it felt as though the Brother was in a different zip code, and the heat came on quickly, which was a benefit as no one was wearing a coat.
It was quite an ascent until they got up to ground level, and Marisol stared out of the tinted windows even though there was nothing to see.
"So no one knows where you are here?" she murmured. "No one can find you?"
"That's the idea," V said from in front.
"Humans leave you all alone, then."
"Or we make them."
Assail cursed and wanted to tell the Brother to ease up on the aggression. Then again, good luck with that. It would be like trying to get a German shepherd to greet hat-wearing strangers with a rollover-rub-my-belly.
"We'd just be hunted," V tacked on. "So it's a case of survival for the likes of us."
"You don't think you'd be accepted?" Marisol asked.
"How's that immigration policy of yours working out?" When she didn't reply, the Brother muttered, "Exactly."
"Perhaps we should speak of something else," Assail offered.
Like the weather. Sports.
Anyone read any good books lately? he thought to himself.
"So," Marisol said as she turned to him. "Are you two going to that meeting alone?"
"What meeting?" Vishous asked as he looked into the rearview.
"It's no
thing," Assail informed the Brother.
Marisol spoke up. "He's meeting with an arms dealer--I thought to put you in touch directly with the supplier?" Her eyes narrowed. "Unless that isn't the case--"
"That's what he's supposed to be doing," V cut in. "I just didn't know it was happening tonight. Or that he was going on his own. Do you trust these people?"
No. "But of course," Assail muttered.
The Mercedes slowed and then stopped. After the Brother put the sedan in park, he twisted around. "You're going to get yourself killed."
"I most certainly will not."
"Who are these people?" Marisol asked. "Wait, did you meet them through Benloise?"
Assail put both his palms up. "I would like to table these discussions for a more appropriate time--"
"I'm going with you," V announced. "I don't give a fuck whether you live or die. What I can't do is lose that connection. You get popped, and I won't get my ammo."
"Are you armed?" Marisol demanded. "Do you even have a knife on you?"
Assail rolled his eyes. "I will get something at the house."
"You sure about that?" she countered.
"Yes."
There was a very long, disapproving silence. And then she blurted, "I'm going, too. I'm going with both of you."
Assail glared in her direction. "Absolutely not. I'm not putting you in any kind of harm's way--"
"But you're more than willing to go to a meeting like that unarmed, guarded by someone who doesn't give a shit about you? Are you insane?"
"I was until you showed up, remember," he said dryly. "And then things got worse after I returned to mental health."
She looked at Vishous. "Do you have any extra guns I can borrow?"
The Brother started to smile. "You know, I like you. But can you shoot?"
"Only to kill," she said grimly. "No, I take that back. If someone doesn't respect me properly, I can get pretty goddamn trigger-happy, and I like places that take a while to heal."
The Brother smiled, flashing his fangs. "Fair enough. You want to assume the risk on his behalf, that's on you. Plus frankly, my other brothers are all out in the field. With those attacks happening every night, it's all hands on deck. If I don't have to pull one of them in on this, that would be great."
The pair of them nodded at each other--and then stared at Assail.
Assail was tempted to point out to Marisol that she didn't want to have anything to do with him. Except yes, he was pathetic enough to beg for a little more time in her company, even if it was in this context. And no, he knew better than to try to dissuade her from the danger.