The Beacon (The Original's Trilogy Book 1)

by Cara Crescent

  Oh, gods. She’d forgotten. “I haven't been part of this . . . family for a long time.”

  “Indeed.” She stepped back. “Come in.”

  Lilith squeezed Kat's hand, whispering. “He needs a formal invitation.”

  Kat's eyes widened.

  “I think we'll be late for the movie if we stay.” James looked her way. “You ready, Lilith?”

  Rowena's gaze narrowed. “I'm afraid I must insist.”

  Kat darted forward and threw her arms around James. “It's so good to see you, for a moment I didn't recognize you.”

  James eyes widened, but he put his hand on her back, patting her.

  Kat whispered something in his ear, too soft for the rest of them to hear.

  He chuckled. “Well, all right, then.”

  She released him, and he stepped into the room.

  “What did she say to you?” Rowena’s gaze snapped to Kat. “What did you say?”

  James grinned. “Oh, she just reminded me how protective mothers are. Said if I wanted to make a good impression, I should visit for a bit.”

  Rowena harrumphed.

  Desperate to turn the high priestess’s attention from James, Lilith spoke up. “Rowena, I'm dying of curiosity. What's the gift?”

  Rowena handed her a crystal jar. The curved opaque glass shone a deep purple. The lid, solid silver. A summoning jar, one designed to hold larger creatures than Aimee.

  Lilith swallowed past her suddenly tight throat. “Why, that's lovely.”

  “Perfect to hold the darkness of most any daemon.” She glanced at James and made a waving motion with her hand. “But of course, I joke. We're all in the Halloween spirit.”

  His smile turned tight.

  Gods, this wouldn't end well.

  Did he remember them? The coven sure seemed to recognize him right away. The blond twins reached out to touch his arm, tentative smiles playing around their lips while Abby seemed to want to disappear into the wall plaster.

  Rowena narrowed her gaze on him before scanning over the women. “Everyone seems to know our guest but me.”

  “He lives in town.” Kat kept her eyes trained on the ground at her feet. “Carnation isn't very big, Mother. I'm surprised you haven't met him.”

  “Introduce me, Katherine.”

  Kat's gaze shot up, locking onto James’. “He’s James, uh…”

  Lilith's stomach bottomed out.

  James cleared his throat. “James Pasquino, ma'am.” He held out his hand.

  Rowena slipped her hand into his. Her gaze widened and she tried to pull him closer.

  He refused to budge.

  “What are you?”

  All at once, the room erupted into female voices offering explanations and excuses.

  James grinned. “I'm a friend to these women.”

  “Are you?”

  He nodded once, but didn’t expound.

  Lilith pressed to his side, her hand sliding up his arm to take his hand from Rowena. “Thank you for a lovely evening. We need to go.” She tugged at his arm, pulling him away.

  They'd made it down the porch steps when Rowena's voice stopped them.

  “Lilith, dear?”

  She half-turned, glancing back over her shoulder. “Yes?”

  “Don't forget about Samhain. We'll induct you back into the . . . family then.”

  A trembling smile played over her lips. “Of course.”

  “You'll need to bring your own.”

  Her brows furrowed. “My own what?”

  “Daemon.”

  James froze, keeping his back toward the house. Lilith avoided his gaze; she'd fall apart if she saw his expression.

  “That's what the jar is for, dear.”

  She nodded.

  “We'll destroy them at midnight as offerings to the Grigori.”

  James closed his eyes, his mouth setting into a grim line.

  “Not a problem, Rowena. I'll come prepared.”

  James walked toward his bike, pushing Lilith ahead of him. He grabbed his helmet off the handlebars and fit it over her head, pulling the strap tight under her chin. Once on the bike, he glanced at her over his shoulder. “Get on.”

  “It's not what you think.”

  “Get on the bike.”

  Lilith shook like an autumn leaf by the time they reached Haven House. James didn't speak, but she couldn’t miss his hurt, his sense of betrayal in the tenseness of his muscles and the grim set of his mouth. She'd withheld information and now this must look horrible to him. What must he think of her? Did he plan to even give her a chance to explain?

  She followed him up the steps to the house, pressing her palm to her roiling belly. This felt worse than when Nan had realized they'd used Magic against her. Worse than that day her mom caught her with her fingers in the cake she'd made for the school musicale. Worse than when she and Trina had fought over a boy in high school.

  He unlocked the door, tossed his keys onto the entryway table and started up the stairs.

  “James. Don't walk away.”

  He leaned his hip against the railing, staring at the wall, refusing to look at her.

  “You don't understand what happened tonight. I haven't been part of the coven since I was a child.”

  “Well, congratulations. All you have to do is destroy me and you’re in.”

  His soft monotone made her stomach bottom out. Why wouldn't he yell at her? “Stop it. No one is going to destroy anyone. I had to protect the coven.”

  Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

  “Damn it, stop that.” Trina would get like this and she hated it because they couldn't talk until Trina had vented her anger. That's what James needed to do. It'd make them both feel better.

  “Stop what?”

  “Acting like this doesn't matter.” She tossed her hand out to the side. “Acting like you care less what the coven is planning. That you don't care if I'm part of it.” She raised her voice. “Look at me.”

  He snapped his head to the side and the dim lighting lit his eyes as if from within, giving them the silver sheen of a nocturnal predator. “You withheld information from me.”

  “Yes.”

  “You've cast me into the role of the evil daemon, assuming I'd harm those women if I knew.”

  Her throat tightened. She nodded.

  “And now, after I find out that you're going to need to summon a daemon into that”—he pointed at the jar she held—“fucking jar, now, you want me to look at you.”

  He stormed down the stairs and crossed the entry to where she stood. “I'm looking and all I see is a woman who doesn't trust me. A woman who’s happy to use me for now, then later, use me as a sacrifice for her coven's betterment.”

  “No.”

  “I didn't hear you arguing with Rowena. You didn't tell her no.”

  “You don't understand. Let me explain.”

  “Do you expect me to stand aside while you hunt daemons?”

  “No, but—”

  “So what does that make us?” He cupped her throat, using his thumb to tip up her chin, forcing her to meet his wrath. “What's that make us?”

  “You know—”

  “I don't know whether I want to kiss you, or spank your ass and hope to knock some sense into you.”

  A little flame of hope ignited. He hadn't given up on her. “We're going to overthrow Rowena, but we can't do it until Samhain.”

  His jaw flexed. “When you'll be sacrificing thirteen daemons.”

  “No. That's why we're overthrowing her. The coven hasn't been able to until now because they need me and Trina.”

  Chapter 27

  Jesus, he was falling in love with a woman who wanted to destroy his people.

  And that, simply, couldn't happen.

  Crowley had been right.

  She was dangerous.

  He closed his eyes. “Jesus. It's them.”

  “What?”

  “Guardians have been going missing. Over
a hundred in the last month.” His eyes opened and speared her with his gaze. “Your coven has been ashing Guardians.” He broke free from her grasp and started up the stairs. He made it up a couple steps before he turned, needing to vent some of his anger. “Goddamn it. We work for the fucking Watchers your coven worships. We're the ones who maintain balance between humans and daemons. Us. And you're coven is dropping us, one by one.”

  “That's impossible. They wouldn't. You're wrong. Rowena might, but the rest of the coven has purposely failed every mission they've been sent on. They've been telling her the coven needs to be whole before they can be successful.”

  She seemed to want to believe what she said, her heart remained steady, she oozed sincerity, but maybe she was deluding herself. “You sure about that?”

  “When I went to visit Kat the other day, bruises covered her arms and neck from standing up against Rowena, and—”

  “Standing up to Rowena or fighting Guardians?”

  “They don't want this war, James. None of us do. We're going to stop Rowena.”

  Jesus, he wanted to believe her.

  She edged closer to him until she stood on the same step. “Please look at me.”

  His gaze dropped to hers and when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes it damn near broke his heart all over again. She'd never been one to cry. She didn't do so the night Nan beat her, nor when those daemons had attacked her. That she did so now, made him relent.

  He pulled her into his arms. “I'm furious with you.”

  “I messed up. I should've told you about the coven. That is my mistake and I can't tell you how sorry I am that I put you in the position you were in tonight. But I swear to you, none of those woman are killing daemons, save Rowena—I can't speak for her. The rest want out.”

  “All right.” He kissed the top of her head, tightening his hold. “Okay.”

  “I just have to keep the charade up a few more days. Rowena can't suspect anything.”

  “Do you have any other secrets I should know?”

  She shook her head, then sighed. “Well, yeah. Trina's home.”

  “Here?”

  “No.” She sniffed. “She stayed in a hotel tonight. You know, because of Nan, but her stuff is in the guest bedroom.”

  “What else?”

  She shook her head, then huffed out another breath. “I saw what happened during the Clearances.”

  Christ, he needed to remember to ask her this kind of open-ended question often. At least once a week. “How?”

  “We have this necklace with the Legacy Stone—the high priestess of the old coven locked the memory into the stone. I know who killed the coven.”

  That was one of daemon-kind’s biggest mysteries. He pulled away to look at her. “Who?”

  “Well, I don't have a name. But I saw him. He called me the Original.”

  “The what?”

  “The Original. He killed me, the whole coven. And there were these creatures—Nephilim, they called them.”

  James shook his head. Whatever she thought she'd seen, it couldn't have been real. “There haven't been Nephilim since the Great Flood.”

  “I saw them. They were real and the vampire had control over them.”

  “A vampire? No. The memory must have been corrupted, or maybe it was a projection or an illusion. Only a Watcher can create Nephilim. Besides, a coven would make quick work of any vampire.”

  He didn't like her involved in this. If he had his way, she'd stay far away from the coven, because when the Vampiric Council discovered they were back, all hell would break loose. “Why does the coven need you and Trina?”

  “When a high priestess is elected, each member of the coven gives her a token of her powers. In order to overthrow her, we all need to take back those powers at the same time. It has to be unanimous.”

  “She'll fight.”

  “I know.”

  James pulled away to look at her. “And I'm supposed to protect you. I can't let you go up against her alone.”

  She shook her head.

  “The Watchers sent me to protect you. I can't—”

  “Quit saying that.” She backed up a step. “Why would the Watchers care? You came here that night because I summoned you.”

  “What?” James went cold. What the hell else had she lied about? “You said you didn't know my name.”

  She shook her head and tried to go around him. “I misspoke. Forget it.”

  “The hell I will.” He blocked her path. “Did you lie? Did you know my name?”

  “No.”

  They weren't going anywhere until he figured out what the hell happened. “Come here.” He took her hand and walked into the living room and pointed to the couch. “Sit.”

  “Are you gonna stop growling at me?”

  “If you give me some straight answers for a change.”

  She rolled her eyes, but sat her butt on the couch.

  He pulled up the ottoman and sat in front of her. “Now tell me what happened that night.”

  “You wouldn't understand—”

  “Try me.”

  “James—”

  “And I damn well know you need a link to the daemon you summon, something like a name, in order to do so, so don't lie to me.”

  “But, I—”

  “Lilith, I swear to God you do not want to give me any excuses. Just tell me what happened.”

  Leaning forward, she stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “You need to quit interrupting me. I'm not a criminal to be interrogated.”

  He caught her hand in his, holding it to his chest. Christ, she was a brazen woman. Daemons bent on mischief gave him far less sass. “You've never been afraid of me, have you?”

  Slowly, she shook her head.

  “Why?”

  “I was about to tell you when you interrupted.”

  He grimaced. “Fine. Talk.”

  “As I said, you wouldn't understand unless I gave you a bit of history and told you about what happened earlier that evening.” She narrowed her eyes at him, as if waiting for him to send a barrage of questions at her, but he held up his hands in surrender. She sat back. “So, I came into my gifts early.”

  “How early?”

  “Birth.” He didn't make any comment, so she added, “It's not a common thing among witches. Most don't earn their Magic until puberty, but our generation has quite a few early bloomers.”

  “Such as?”

  “Trina came into hers when she was just a few months old. Several of the other girls came into theirs right after their mothers passed away.”

  He nodded. “Go on.”

  “The girls in the coven didn't like me and Trina. We were the outcasts of the group.”

  “They were jealous.”

  “They were scared.”

  He cocked his brow in question.

  “Of Nan. We all were, but Trina and . . . We always got into trouble, which caused problems for the other girls, too.”

  “That's what happened that night.”

  She nodded. “We were studying the creation and the goddess' hierarchy—it's a bunch of crap. I'm pretty sure Nan made it up. I’ve never seen her version anywhere else.”

  His gaze slid to the bookshelf, to all the religious tomes she had. That's what she was after, for whatever reason she wanted to prove them wrong. “Let me guess, daemons were somewhere under the scum on a worm's belly?”

  “Pretty much. My mom used to tell me about the creation as a bedtime story. I had it memorized, and there was no way in hell I would accept what Nan taught us.”

  That piqued his interest. More than anything, he'd like to hear her version of the story, but he needed other answers first. “You argued with her about that?”

  “Sort of. Specifically, she had focused on life mates that day. How men and women were created in twos and therefore all humans had life mates. So Trina wanted to know about our life mates. To which Nan said we didn't have any because even though we were human, we were also linked with d
aemon-kind through Magic.”

  She'd lost him now. He couldn't figure out why in the world such things would matter to a couple of human girls.

  She scowled. “Are you following this?”

  “Yeah, I just don't get why it's important.”

  “It's an important subject to girls.” She took a deep breath. “Trina and I wouldn't drop it. We'd just watched Raiders of the Lost Ark. All of us watched it on the VCR. Me and Trina were sitting on that ottoman eating popcorn and when Indiana wrapped his whip around Marion and pulled her into his arms Trina elbowed me and said, 'My mate is gonna be just like him.'“

  James chuckled. He could just about picture that. Trina had been precocious as hell when he'd met her twenty years ago. “And you? What did you want?”

  “I didn't know what I wanted, really. Just that I wanted to be loved.” She pressed her palm to her stomach and took a deep breath. “So while taking my punishment, I summoned my mate for protection to prove Nan wrong.”

  James stilled.

  A tiny flame of hope flared up inside him. And he stomped it back out.

  You have forty-eight hours to bring her to me.

  Hope was a dangerous thing.

  “I'm a daemon. A vampire. I don't even have a goddamn soul, Lilith. I can't be your soul mate, or life mate or whatever.” He stood up, because he couldn't sit there staring into those damned eyes of hers for one more second. Hope stared back at him and that was a damned dangerous thing.

  “You had a soul when human. That's what I told Nan that day. How I got her so mad. I told her all daemons had been human once, so if all humans had soul mates, then so, too, did daemons.”

  He closed his eyes. “And witches.” That's why it had been so important to her. Little girls wanted there happily-ever-after, their knight in shining armor.

  Instead, she'd gotten him.

  “Yes.”

  I curse you to destruction before you get what you truly want.

  He looked up at the ceiling, half expecting lightning to slice through the plaster, striking him dead.

  “It's nothing more than a coincidence, Lil. I was hunting down a baldander when it happened, a Historian. The fucking Watchers spoke through me. They told me to surrender, to save you, and when I did they brought me here.”

  “They might have spoken through you, but they're trapped on Machon, James. If they could make daemons do whatever they wanted, they wouldn't need Guardians to act out their wishes. They could stop the daemons who tip the balance by forcing them to their will.”