“Later,” he said. “When we bonded before you had no choice.” He rubbed a soapy washcloth over her shoulders, her arms, down to her stomach and up to her breasts. “Bond with me again.”
“I love you,” she breathed, “but…”
Hunter / Merlin
Hunter stepped off Mathers’ porch feeling like soiled laundry. Robotically he acknowledged the guards and continued to the path. Standing off to the side waiting for him was Lucien, looking equally discontented with the situation.
“How does she look?” Lucien asked. He didn’t need to specify who.
“Caanan thinks she’s physically healthy.” Mentally, well, only time would tell that. “The king texted me – once they are done with their reconciliation he will brief me on her whereabouts.”
“Reconciliation,” Lucien repeated the word, elongating all the syllables.
Since he’d become a Merlin, Hunter had access to knowledge not known to him before. He no longer saw Lucien as just the king’s henchman and liked to think that the two of them were forming a bond. He was a good man. True, he was a hard man, but he was also a man of honor and someone Hunter was beginning to rely on greatly. He didn’t need any special powers to know how much Lucien had suffered with Lily’s disappearance and how much the slayer wanted to be with her now. There was nothing he could do about Lucien’s feelings for Lily, but he had vowed to one day free Lucien from the horrible curse Faye had laid upon him.
The rest of the walk to Hunter’s car was in silence. He leaned against the hood, looking towards Mathers’ cabin as the chimney smoke spiraled up to the sky. A gunshot pierced through the night air and echoed around them.
“He chose the best path,” Lucien said. “Charon will be waiting for him now.”
When did the best path encompass killing oneself? He thought of his father, or the man he’d thought was his father, choosing to end his life. Had he been presented with such an untenable choice? Who could say? Whatever had occurred would remain an enigma. But tonight, Hunter knew Mathers had chosen the easiest path. Why extend one’s life to only experience pain and suffering? For that was what awaited him at the hands of the king. Hunter had kept Mathers’ involvement from Krieger as long as possible. Hadn’t enough blood been shed? And tonight when he’d confronted the doorman there had been no denial.
“He baited Merlin,” Hunter said. “Pushed him to use the dark magic.”
What crimes would one commit to regain a loved one? What would he do if Meirta were threatened? His mother’s words came to him, ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’
One of the royal guardsmen stepped forward and slapped his forearm against his chest. Hunter had seen this type of salute before – was it from the Roman era or another time period? He made a mental note to ask Lucien one day.
“Mathers is no more.” The guard bent slightly at the waist, waiting for his orders.
“Plant that damn twig he had potted and bury him beside it,” Hunter directed. The guard spun on his heels and went back to execute his order. “Wait.” The guard stopped. “Place the tree in a spot where it will thrive.” The guard nodded and proceeded on his way.
“Mathers is lucky he left this world so peacefully,” Lucien said.
Lucky was not the word that Hunter would have used. Nor peacefully. “I’ve seen enough flailed bodies piked.” Hunter willed his limbs to move even though they were almost numb from fatigue. How had Merlin endured so long? “Let’s get back to my office so we can discuss what you found.”
Lucien swung his sword off his back and walked around to the passenger door, dropping the pack he was carrying onto the floorboards and easing his large frame inside the car. Hunter had expected him to fly, but when he looked over at Lucien he could see he was not alone in his weariness. It’s relief, he thought. Relief that Lily has finally been found, and she’s alive. “How was Brazil?” he asked.
Lucien used the lever under the seat to push it back. “Good. I had no trouble obtaining the information. Amazing how accommodating the Church can be.”
Especially when a certain sect of that Church sponsored an orphanage which specialized in the relocation of Others. Hunter likened their discoveries to a domino design. The first tile tipped was when the king had requested Hunter research Eva Gray, the wife of King Beline, and a Father Flannery, the priest Krieger had encountered on the island with King Carlos.
He looked out the car window as he drove past home. The lights were on, Meirta must be up. He would have to tell her tonight before he lost his nerve.
“You have proof?” Hunter asked. Now that they were back on blacktop he pressed the accelerator down.
“I do.” Lucien hung on to the ‘oh jesus’ strap. “We are the only two people alive who know.”
Hunter knew what Lucien was implying. He laughed from exhaustion, from everything that had occurred tonight. “You forget that Meirta is a Minder. She would find out, one way or the other.”
“Oh, brother.” Lucien threw his head back against the headrest. “I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of her wrath when she did.”
“No you would not,” Hunter concurred. He slowed down now that they were back at the castle and veered left to the underground garage.
Not able to think inside the cluttered tower that had been Merlin’s, Hunter had relocated most of Merlin’s books to his office, conveniently located two doors down from the guards’ monitoring station where Krieger had given him the assignment of tracking down information regarding the wife of King Beline. It had taken him days to sort through the contents of the tower. There were specimens in jars that he didn’t look at too closely, small mountains of vellum inscribed with notations, a tattered robe, a wand which crackled with energy whenever he was within an arm’s length of it – he’d had the king place it inside the safe – and some things he’d left in place deciding that they could wait till a later date to sort.
They both waited to say more until they were inside his office with the door closed. As with all the rooms on this underground level, the walls were soundproof even to vampires.
Lucien tossed his pack onto a large round table positioned to the left of Hunter’s desk. On a white board pushed against the wall were photos and notes of where their investigation had led them. In the center was a picture of Father Flannery and encircling him were photos of Others they’d discovered born in his orphanage. Filhos de Nosso Mestre, Children of our Master, was the name of the orphanage located in the city of Teresina, Brazil.
When Lily disappeared none of the Royal Houses had any inkling of how vast an organization the Brotherhood was, nor had they truly cared to. They considered it more a nuisance than any true threat. After Eva’s demise and Lily’s disappearance their tolerance of the Brotherhood’s existence ceased and was replaced by a systematic eradication program. As the months ticked by it felt to Hunter like the earth was being sifted one handful of dirt at a time. It was an inquisition, though no one called it such, and as the rumors of horrendous executions became fact, the members caught quickly divulged whatever information they had in hopes that their deaths would be swift.
Meirta had told Hunter long ago that there were only a thousand or so vampires in existence. After what he’d witnessed he thought that might be too many. He still wanted to be the king’s advisor, but he’d seen things that could not be unseen. Nothing and no one was spared in their goal to find the puppet master behind the Brotherhood.
Bit by bit they’d culled, analyzed, and prioritized all the confessions until the organization came into focus. The Brotherhood had been small sects working semi-independently in five key countries, Russia, England, Spain, Australia, and less so but still significant, the United States. Each sect had a leader, and only that leader knew the contact place where they received orders. As Krieger and King Beline apprehended each leader, they found that they all went to a specific Catholic church and entered confessionals to receive their orders.
When the king had asked Hunter to track
down information regarding Eva Grey, it had begun innocently enough, but as they learned more, it all started to fit into place. He was able, with the help of Lucien’s trancing abilities, to obtain Beline and Eva’s marriage certificate. When he saw Father Flannery’s name on the document his spidey sense went into overdrive. When he found out, with Lucien’s help, that Eva was adopted but had never told Beline (or, it seemed, anyone else), he’d known they were onto something big.
The Children of our Master Orphanage had been run by Father Flannery, who under the guise of traveling to minister to the needy children of the world was actually visiting each of the churches to relay orders to the Brotherhood leaders.
How Anson, if that was who it was, found out about Father Flannery remained a mystery. The Father was half-mad when Krieger tranced him on the island. He insisted that Anson – or he, as Flannery called him – had visited and ordered him to stop.
Hunter sat down at the table. “Well show me what you have.” He couldn’t keep the resignation out of his voice.
“Do you want to know what happened, besides these?” Lucien pulled out the folders and placed them in front of Hunter.
No, Hunter thought, but said, “Yes.”
“Sister Mary was a hard nut to crack,” Lucien’s black eyes glistened under the artificial light.
“You didn’t…”
Lucien’s mouth became a hard line. “I did what I had to do, but I used this.” He tapped his head. “Not these.” He held up his hands. “I’m not responsible for what she did after I left.”
Hunter knew what he meant and decided not to consider it further. He opened the file and saw a photo of a pink faced baby about three days old. It was Meirta. He contemplated throwing it into the fireplace; instead he opened the folder to find the same typed form as all the rest had. The ‘Other’ box was checked, meaning she was an Other. The ‘Lynea’ box was not. She was born to a Scottish girl who had no idea how she’d gotten pregnant. The details in all the folders were heartbreakingly similar. Women, some still girls, had gotten pregnant but swore that they’d never had intercourse. All were Catholic and all were in the churches that Father Flannery visited. The girls were brought to Brazil, to the orphanage, to await the births of their children, and so far, all of them had died months or a few years later.
He pushed aside Meirta’s folder and opened the next one. This was Nina’s file. Beside the Lynea box was a large question mark. Nina lived her life at the orphanage until she was taken by Henry to Russia. There were notes about her scent, and about her effect on vampires.
Hunter read the notations aloud. “‘Henry is convinced that the transfer will work with Nina. She will be the one to bring the evil of the west to their knees and the Lynea to her rightful place.’”
Hunter felt sick.
I should have killed her from the start. The fault lies with me, Merlin said. You must now do what I could not.
“Were you able to find out who “he” is?” Hunter managed to ask.
“As the others before, she would not speak his name.” Lucien was regarding the white board with its photos and connections and images they’d culled and analyzed. “Everyone talks eventually. They don’t know his name.”
Hunter went back to the file and read aloud. “SP confirms that Lucia—” He looked up and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Well, now we know Nina’s true name,” he said, and went back to reading the file, “has been discovered in the realm of the wicked. Now the days of our darkness are almost over.” He tapped the page. “Anything on who SP is?” These initials were in almost all the files. SP seemed to be the one in charge of the whole operation from what they could tell.
Lucien leaned against wall. “SP is a female.”
This was information they’d not had before. “And did Sister Mary say what she looked like?”
“An angel of goodness is what she called her.”
“Vampire?”
“Perhaps. Sister Mary’s mind was problematic with all the trancing she’d endured over the years.”
We have but to find this angel of goodness and it will be done, Merlin’s voice whispered in Hunter’s mind.
“Yes,” Hunter agreed. “Is it done?”
“It is. A strange fire consumed the orphanage and the church.”
“Good.” Hunter stared at Lily’s picture on the whiteboard, a small island, sitting alone and at the far left hand corner with no notes or lines. From what they could tell she had no connection to any of this.
“Did anyone there know of Henry or King Carlos?”
“Not by name, but when I showed a few pictures to them, they knew them. Especially Henry, he’d drained a few girls.”
“More deaths,” Hunter muttered to himself. “Have we finally broken the back of the Brotherhood?”
“More than that, we have all but cut off the head and tossed it into the flames.” Lucien stretched his neck. “Let me handle Nina. I promise she will feel nothing.”
He couldn’t look at Lucien.
No, Merlin said. Don’t. We will handle this.
“‘I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.’” Hunter recited the line from memory.
“What?” Lucien asked.
“Nothing, just a quote I thought I understood. Sit.” Lucien did so. “Merlin believes that Nina is…” What would be the correct word? “Possessed by Faye.”
“She is dead.” Lucien’s hand formed a fist. “I watched you—” Lucien corrected himself, “Merlin, kill her.”
He’s suffered enough, don’t torture him further, Merlin urged.
“Faye is the only being strong enough to obscure my, Merlin’s senses. Merlin recognized her inside of Nina at the end, when the darkness was overtaking him.”
Lucien went rigid with a rage of such intensity that Hunter feared he’d not be able to keep his emotions in check. He brought his fist down on the table. Tiny fissions spiderwebbed the top. “Then kill her again,” he said through clenched teeth.
Hunter swallowed down rising bile. “No. Leave Nina as so, until this Brotherhood business is dead. Merlin will help me. We will force her to release you from the curse.”
I will not! Merlin screamed. She is too dangerous.
“You would risk that?” Lucien asked.
“You deserve better.”
Lucien leaned back until the front chair legs lifted. “I think we could both use a drink.”
Lily
She didn’t want to respond to his request, not now when his hands were gliding over her body, causing her to moan with need.
“Lily,” Krieger whispered in her ear. Sliding his hand around her waist, he stood behind her, imprisoning her body against him. “Bond with me.”
She could hear his fangs snap down, knew he’d offer his wrist to her. “We have to talk.”
“Later,” he said.
“No.” She pushed down on the arm wrapped around her waist and stepped out of the shower. She grabbed a towel, roughly drying herself off, refusing to meet his penetrating gaze. Will he try and trance me now that our bond is no more? Peripherally she saw the door hanging open, the floor wet with spray, until he finally stepped out and closed the shower door behind him. He yanked a towel off the rack with too much force, ripping the whole rack from the wall and sending it skittering across the floor. For the first time since she’d met him, she was afraid. There was no bond to balance his intensity. She didn’t know what he’d do.
He wrapped the towel around his waist and grabbed her by the wrist.
“No!” She tried to resist, but ended up being dragged across the floor.
In one fluid motion, he reached back and lifted her into his arms, and sat her down on the couch in front of the fire. “I won’t have you getting sick.” His words were angry and clipped.
She blinked and he was gone, blinked again and he was wrapping a heavy blanket around her. He paced in front of her, running his hands through his wet hair, his face a mask of fury. He stopped and leaned dow
n with his hands on his knees, his eyes burning into her. She couldn’t help it when she recoiled.
“You’re afraid of me?”
She swallowed, not wanting to incite more anger, but afraid lying would only make it worse. The words, “Don’t hurt me,” tumbled out of her mouth.
Krieger went back to pacing, but his shoulders eased down a notch and his face relaxed. He exhaled a long, unneeded breath. “Why won’t you bond with me?”
She shivered, not from cold, but from the pain she heard in his voice. “I love you.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he snapped. He had his back to her, the scars from when he was tortured centuries ago visible to her.
“I’m not.” She fought against her fear and shrugged off the blanket, moving to stand behind him. He took a step away from her, but she reached out and touched his back.
He turned around and grabbed her arms, imprisoning her wrists in one hand behind her back, and yanked her against him. “Why?” he growled out the word.
I promised my mother. “He said I must keep my blood pure. That he’d torture and kill you if I drank your blood.”
With his free hand he grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, forcing her head back. His lips descended on hers, crushing them with a hard kiss. Immobile as she was, she wasn’t frightened anymore. It was his need which seared away her fear. Melting into him, she returned his passion. He lifted his forehead to rest against hers. “You love me.”
“Yes, that’s why I can’t bond with you.”
“He can’t hurt me. Whatever, whoever took you, he can’t hurt me.” He shook her slightly.
Lily’s shoulders were starting to ache with her hands pinned behind her back. “Please.”
Immediately, he released his hold and gently rubbed her shoulders. “Better?”
“Ah,” she sighed, luxuriating beneath his touch. Wishing she could pretend that she hadn’t been taken. “We can’t ignore that he seared through the blood bond we shared and removed your mark from my neck.”
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 27