by J. D. Brown
Broken pieces of picket fencing stood some distance from the front entrance, the wood worn down like old bones, rotted to frailty by the elements. A couple of gray footstones cut through the earth—fragments of what might have once been a stone walkway. I avoided their sharp angles while approaching a tiny door surrounded by paper-thin walls. Busted shutters hung askew from a single broken window. I drew a breath, glancing up at the thatched roof, and then let myself inside.
The door creaked as it gave way to darkness and grime. A kitchen stood before me, nothing more than a rusty old sink and a rutty counter covered in decades of dust and spider webs. The stale air spoke of abandonment and a slow, hollow death, but the cottage was not empty. The wolf standing directly in front of me attested to that. The hellhound lowered her head, hackles raised as a low rumble sounded in her throat.
I rolled my eyes. “Is she here, or what?”
Lupa huffed and then dashed into a narrow strip of corridor. I followed the wolf at a leisurely pace. The hall led to an expansive mudroom. The top half of the far wall was made of glass, though very little light survived past the blanket of moss that grew along the outer panes. The surrounding dirt walls and compact dirt floor gave the impression of a shallow cave. Long wooden tables lined the space, holding row after row of small potted plants and an assortment of gardening supplies. What sort of life grew in the gloom, I could not say. I never bothered to learn the names of the things my mother hatched in the dark.
I waited behind the threshold as I took a small breath and willed my pulse to slow. It didn’t matter how much time passed between us. Every moment in her company elected the same sense of dread that crept pin-like over my flesh. A dull ache anchored itself in the pit of my stomach. When the feeling wouldn’t go away, I decided to just get this over with. My gaze slowly slid to the back-left corner of the room, where Lilith stood.
Her back faced me as she tended to one of the potted herbs on the table. She wore her signature back robe, her silhouette darker than ink, except for the stark white curls of hair that ended just before the draped hood of her cloak. Her hair was so thin, the skin of her scalp was visible even at a distance. I shuddered.
Lupa stood between us. She looked at Mum as though she wasn’t sure how close to get—what distance was safe?
Doesn’t matter, pup. You can run to the edge of the world and it wouldn’t be enough.
“So,” said Mother. Her crotchety accent was a mix of dead languages with an American twang. While I’d learned English in London, she had learned it in New Orleans. “Ya found it?”
“I’ve done one better.” My gaze lowered to the floor even as my voice held firm. It was a habit. A bad one. I forced myself to look at her so she wouldn’t dare turn around and find me cowering. “But the bad news first.” It was always better to give her the bad news first.
She waited. Her hands remained busy with the plant. I couldn’t see what she was doing. Pruning them, perhaps? She seemed to be using shears.
“Logan is becoming a problem. He made a claror for Jesu. My cover’s blown.”
“For now,” she said calmly. I cringed. She was scarier when she was calm. “They’ve known about ya b’fore.”
I nodded to myself, stalling as I decided how much to tell her. As little as possible. That was always the best way. “They found Shénshèng. Ema is going to China to meet her.” That seemed safe enough. Ema was Lilith’s obsession. Let Mum do what she wanted with the little Romani. Keep her attention off Brinnon.
Lilith tutted. “That I cannot have.” She moved down the line to the next plant and did something with the shears again. “Find out where they are meetin’. See that we get to Shénshèng first.”
A bolt of lightning struck behind my eyes and my vision flashed white. I gripped the door frame to keep from falling to my knees. Save her. Save your mistress...
The hit. I had to tell her about the hit.
I didn’t want to, of course. Fuck it if the wicked hag died. But I had to, or she’d know I was lying. If she commanded the truth...
“The Council,” I said slowly, trying to regain my composure as I chose my words. Semantics was everything where the sire bond was concerned.
Lilith stilled at the mention of the Council. She turned just a fraction in my direction. Lupa whimpered and ducked under a table. “Yes?”
This time my gaze lowered and I let it stay there. “They offered to make Ema’s contract a law if she kills you.”
Lilith turned and faced me fully. I dared a glimpse from under my lashes. Her gaze narrowed—a ghastly sight of translucent eyelids and milky blue irises that turned my stomach. She saw through my glamour, just as I saw through hers. I couldn’t possibly be attractive to her—not anymore—but that never seemed to matter. Young or old, I had the one thing Mum would kill for. Fertility.
She tossed her head back and laughed.
My shoulders curled at the sound, and I looked away.
“Her?” she bellowed. “The gypsy? Kill me?” She laughed like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard.
In all the ways that mattered, it was hilarious to think Ema could do it. Alone, she had zero chance. Even Logan, by himself, could never touch Lilith. Hundreds of Hunters had died trying.
Except, Brinnon was right. Ema wasn’t alone. She had Jesu, Maria, and Naamah. She even had the Alpan crown. Four very powerful vampyres, but was it enough?
Mum rubbed her eyes as her laughter subsided. She shook her head, still amused. “The Council is no worry. First things first; we will go to China an’ make sure Shénshèng doesn’t mess with my plans. Then, if need be, I will deal with Ema. Now...” Lilith came toward me. She stopped mid-way across the room and held out her boney hand. The other rested at her hip, holding a pair of very sharp scissors, the tip of which was stained red. My stomach tightened.
I found the courage to make my legs move, and went to her outstretch hand. Looking at the paper-thin skin, the blue veins and waxy bones beneath, I bit back the urge to cringe. Unwanted memories surfaced. Those yellow nails scraping my back... Her hot breath against my neck... My blood ran ice cold, then just as quickly turned feverish. I put both hands in my pants pockets. One fisted around the ruby, the other wrapped around the ring.
I placed the jade into her hand first, then added Ema’s stone.
Mum looked at the jewels and frowned. “What’s this?”
“That is your brother’s essence. You’re welcome.”
“No, idiot. What is that?”
I looked at her flat open palm, but it was just Ema’s ruby and Apollyon’s ring. “Um, your brother’s ring?”
Before I knew what happened, Lilith clutched my left wrist in a death grip. She slammed my palm flat against the nearest table and plunged the shears into the flesh, pinning me to the wood faster than I could phase. A scream ripped from my lungs as blood ran in rivulets between my fingers.
“Stay still,” she ordered as she placed a small ceramic pot under the table to catch the blood dripping from between the cracks.
I gnashed my fangs together, chocking back the urge to cuss a blue streak. The sire command kept me from phasing as the pain coursed through my veins, hot and trembling.
“I don’t know how ya managed to screw this up.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as my hand throbbed. The will to phase warred with the need to obey her. Anger flooded me. Anger and fear and hate. I watched as she pocketed the ruby. Then she leaned her elbows against the table—uncomfortably close to my stabbed hand—and held the ring in front of my face between her thumb and finger.
“This is not Apollyon’s ring.”
“W-what? Yes it is. Ema had it wrapped in ten layers of Adder’s Tongue, for Christ’s sake.”
She narrowed her gaze. Fear frothed in my chest. I snapped my mouth shut and swallowed hard.
“Moron. Stupid, numbskull, idiot. There’s not a drop of power in this ring. It’s just a’ ordinary gemstone.” She studied the jade a moment, and I prayed she was w
rong. How could that not be her brother’s philosopher’s stone? I’ve seen Apollyon’s ring—that was his ring.
Lilith scoffed. “It’s his ring all right,” she said, as though reading my mind. “But not his stone.” She looked at me from the side of her vision, and my blood chilled in apprehension. She wasn’t done punishing me for my mistake. Mum offered the ring to me.
“Eat it.”
“What?” Perspiration dampened my brow. My wounded hand was numb and hot and too heavy. It would heal once she allowed me to phase. Until then, the pain only served to slow me down. Panic clouded my mind.
“I said swallow it!” She slammed the ring against my lips, making me jump, and jarring my hand. My mouth opened to yell at the pain. She shoved the cold metal inside and held her palm over my lips. It tasted like bitter ash and copper pennies. It was a man’s ring. Too big to possibly swallow.
I tried anyway. I had no choice. My body acted in accordance with Mother’s curse.
I tried, and choked. My nervous system took over and my lungs involuntarily coughed. I tried again, until the ring managed to slide down just enough to block my airway. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even cough. It was lodged in my throat and wouldn’t move. I fell to my knees, clawing at my throat with one hand, vision blurring as I tried to suck in air. My lungs burned. My ribs tightened. Panic threw all thoughts to the wind, except one.
I’m dying.
I looked at my mother. Her face, so cold and uncaring, swam in my vision. She’d tried to kill me before. So many times, I lost count. Each time was the same; a whisper in the back of my mind said, ‘This is it. This time you’re not coming back.’
The actual process of dying was never how I imagined. I should have known better by now, but still, when it happened, it was always a shock. When I thought about death, I imaged peace. Release. A sweet end to a bitter life. But it was never like that. At least not when the death was slow and painful. There’s never peace in the final moments. Only questions. It was the questions that came to me now.
Why me? Why wasn’t I good enough? What had I done to deserve this?
It made me angry. It was so stupid and cliché. The whimpering child. I knew it wasn’t my fault. I knew she was a fucking psychopath. But, in the end, I was no different. No braver. No more empowered than any other sniveling victim.
Why me? As my vision darkened.
Why me? As I slipped into the void.
Why did I have to die?
Why—
CHAPTER 12
I banged on Jesu’s bedroom door. He had been with me in Brinnon’s office, then wandered off while I was getting the ring. The door opened, but Jesu wasn’t on the other side. My father looked at me and smiled shyly.
“Hey, kiddo.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why are you in Jesu’s room?”
He stepped aside and gestured for me to come in. I entered with my arms crossed.
“I was waiting for you,” he said.
“In Jesu’s room? Where is he?”
“He’s with your mother.”
My jaw fell open. “Jesu’s with Mom? I have to save him.”
“I was hoping we could talk first, sweetie.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” Frankly, I didn’t know why my father was still here. I went to the bathroom door and yanked it open. Dad followed as I crossed the blue and gold-plated tiles.
“Come on, Ema. You must have questions.”
“No. I had questions. Past tense. Those questions were answered by Jesu and Maria instead of you and Mom.”
“It’s not your mother’s fault. Don’t blame her.”
“I don’t. I blame you.” I reached the brocade curtain dividing the conjoined bathroom from my bedroom, and flung it aside. A stench like dead skunk hit my nostrils. I cringed before entering the room.
Mom stood by the mantle and its fiery blaze, pulling the collar of her cardigan tighter around her neck. Jesu stood in the opposite corner, between the nightstand and the door. He breathed slowly, his posture stiff as he watched my mother with a hesitant gaze.
“You,” I said to Jesu. “Emergency meeting. We need to talk. Privately.”
Jesu looked at Dad and upped his brow. I turned in time to see my father shake his head. If I hadn’t had more pressing matters on my mind, I might have demanded to know what the heck this intervention was about. But Jesu needed to know that Valafar was in the castle. So did Maria and Naamah. I wasn’t sure how much Maria had figured out on her own.
I gestured for Jesu to follow, and then exited into the hallway and knocked on Maria’s door. Naamah answered when Princess Sara came bounding into the corridor from the tower.
“Come quick,” she panted. “Something’s happened. Brinnon wants to see you in his chambers.” Her gaze slid past me, and she looked at Maria—who had joined her husband in the doorway. “You too,” she said. Then she faced Jesu. “All of you. Hurry. Everyone’s waiting.”
I started after her, then paused and wrinkled my nose. “Who’s everyone?”
Everyone turned out to be Brinnon, Roman, Tancred, Auda, Sara, and their mother, Cecelia. Smoke bloomed from the flute of the tin incense burner on the nightstand, sweetening the air with the light fragrance of Adder’s Tongue. Brinnon sat at the foot of his bed, hands folded under his arms, shoulders hunched, his gaze on the floor.
“What happened?” Maria demanded.
Brinnon shook his head, and then looked at Jesu. “Where’s Mr. Marx? He should be here.”
“What does my father have to do with anything?” I said.
At the same time, Jesu murmured, “He is with his wife.”
“Well he should hear this too,” said Brinnon.
“Hold on. What?” I fixed my former lover a look, but Jesu ignored it.
“We were robbed.” Roman stood with one shoulder against the mantle, arms crossed over his chest. He was the only person facing away from the group, but he watched us from the corner of his vision. “The incubus took the stones.”
Several whats echoed from various sources. Tancred’s was the loudest.
“That’s convenient,” Auda snorted.
“How did this happen?” The Queen’s bright yellow irises shifted between her two sons. Concern creased her brow.
Brinnon lowered his gaze. “We’re okay, Mom. He didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Tell that to the bump on the back of my head.” Roman pointed to his hair.
Naamah took a step into the circle that had formed in the middle of Brinnon’s room. “Hold on now, one at a time. What exactly happened?”
Brinnon and Roman stared at each other a moment, some unspoken conversation passing between them. Both men looked equally angry, but perhaps for different reasons. Brinnon finally broke the silence. “He used his powers to put us to sleep. Roman had the ruby. I had the ring. When we came to, both were gone.”
My heart leaped into my throat, and I gasped out loud. “Are you freaking kidding me? You just promised you wouldn’t give him the stones like ten minutes ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Brinnon pleaded. “I didn’t know he was in my office waiting for you to leave.”
“Great, just... Great!” I tossed my hands into the air and then let them fall with a smack against my thighs, exasperated.
“This doesn’t change anything,” said Tancred.
I spun on my heels and pinpointed the vampyre with a glare. “What is your problem? What did I ever do to you?”
Tancred cocked his head to the side. “The death of my sovereign isn’t enough?”
“Hold your tongue!” The Queen stood and directed her anger at the Hand. “If my son doesn’t strip you of your title after this, I will do so myself. You served at my husband’s side for his entire reign, and this is how you honor that generosity? By challenging his heir and tearing apart my family?”
Tancred’s jaw tensed. His gaze darkened, but he didn’t dare utter another word. Instead, he looked at me, and the silent rage was enough to make me wi
nce.
“She can get them back,” Jesu murmured. He spoke in so small a voice, I wondered if I hadn’t imaged it.
“What?” said Maria.
Jesu hesitated, then slowly lifted his chin and looked at the group. “The Council wants Ema to kill Lilith anyway. When she does, she can just take the stones back.”
My jaw fell open. “Jesu, I would have to kill her immediately to make sure she doesn’t use the stones.”
Auda laughed. “Works for me. Good luck not dying in the process.” Brinnon’s eldest sister sauntered out of the room, shaking her head and snickering to herself.
I swallowed hard, and then looked at Jesu—the very same man who was always against me doing anything dangerous. Had he been possessed by a pod person? Was his head infected by a brain slug? Did aliens replace the real Jesu with a robot?
He wouldn’t look at me.
“No,” said Brinnon. “A succubus is difficult enough as it is. Now she has your father’s ring. It’s not possible. I’ll call the Council and tell them we need to employ the Elite.”
Tancred’s fangs flashed in a toothy grin. No doubt he thought he’d won. No dead succubus meant no contract. I couldn’t have that.
“Wait,” I said. “I’m still going to China. I’ll get another stone. A stronger one.”
Jesu made a sound in his throat, but I ignored him.
“Lilith might not let you get that far,” said Brinnon. “Even with Logan...”
My father again. Seriously, what the hell?
“Do I need the crown’s permission to go?” I said, raising my chin.
Brinnon looked at me and blinked. “No, but—”
“Then I’m going. End of discussion.” I turned; ready to march out of the room in a dramatic exit.
“I’m going, too,” said Tancred. Several people shot him dirty looks. Tancred curled his lip in response. “That way I can bear witness to the Council upon my return.”