“But they couldn’t free their mothers. It’s so sad.”
“The deepest ocean could not contain the sadness of the Strigoi.”
“That’s a terrible name for them. You should think of something better.”
Anson closed his eyes to keep from weeping. Because of the mothers they’d left behind, no Strigoi would ever hurt a woman.
“Couldn’t they have gone back for them and killed their father?”
“Such a thing was impossible. Instead they worked with the gods above and created gates to keep the underworld god from ever returning.”
“You should write a screenplay but have the Strigoi – you have to change that name – go back and free the women.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” Anson rolled out of bed and went to the kitchen to pour a glass of wine.
“Aren’t you going to finish?” Audrey had slipped on a robe and followed him.
“It makes me sad.”
“Me too.”
“Don’t you have some promotion to attend tonight?” He sipped the wine.
“Ugh, don’t remind me, I hate them. Standing there being asked stupid questions, all the photographers waiting for me to slip up or get a shot under my skirt.” She giggled. “Like I’d be stupid enough to go without panties. You could come with me.”
If he thought he could endure it, he would go with her. “I’m going to take a swim.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful and not go out too far.”
What would she think if he told her the truth? He longed to tell someone who he was, and when loneliness darkened his soul he was tempted to explain that the stories she loved to hear were true. That he was Strigoi, one of the four guardians that betrayed their father and stood with the Elders to secure the world against the darkness. But he’d been awakened in a time that had no gods, no Elders, very little magic, and where the humans far outnumbered the Others and vampires.
Lily
Lily watched the party goers from the fringe of the room. Perched on a window seat with silk pillows pressing against her back, she pretended to enjoy Cherie’s fortieth birthday celebration. Since Krieger had forced the iron rings on her, she had acquired the habit of tracing with her fingertips the pattern of the iron, feeling the raised inscriptions like a blind person reading braille.
Her return from the realm of her father had left her out of step with time. Like a professional dancer who suddenly finds that the once-effortless steps of the tango are unknown to her, Lily’s partnership with time had become disjointed. To her, she’d spent a few hours with her father, but in reality she’d been gone half a year. How does one reconcile that difference? She smiled at Mercy – realizing she’d been stared right at her without knowing it – who always looked like the embodiment of a Beach Boys’ song, all blond haired with the sunny disposition of someone who’s never seen rain or snow and has only known the bright warm days of summer.
“You look like I feel,” Cherie said.
Lily had been too much inside her own head to notice Cherie walk over with her panther grace. She had a drink in hand, her hair pulled up into a loose french twist, wearing a black dress that made Lily think she looked like a voluptuous Holly Golightly.
“I’m the one who should be wearing the frown,” Cherie continued. “Forty years. I remember thinking I’d never grow up, and then when I did everything went so fast.”
Lily didn’t know what to say. Cherie was one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen in print or film or in person. Before meeting her father, she would have said something trite like, “I hope I look like you when I’m forty.” But now, she met Cherie’s direct gaze and truly saw the fragility of beauty. Cherie reminded her of a tropical flower that was at the peak of its bloom. If picked one day early it would still be green; a day late and the petals would have started to wilt, but right now, in this moment in time, Cherie was perfection.
“There was a time I thought I was in love with the king,” Cherie said in a hushed tone, “and he me.”
“And now?” Lily asked.
“He’s a different person with you. I never had that effect on him. You breathed warmth into him, and then disappeared and he turned into an icy hard shell of what he’d once been.”
It physically hurt to remember those halcyon days of discovering love and passion in Krieger’s arms. “It wasn’t my choice to leave.”
“No one appreciates an ex-lover of their partner giving them advice, but he put those on you because he loves you.” Cherie pointed to the iron rings on Lily’s arms. “Because he is doing anything and everything he can to keep you safe.”
“I know,” Lily said, and looked about the room, registering the attention their quiet conversation was attracting. She knew people thought she was immature and heartless for arguing with the king. But it was her love, her wanting to keep him safe, that made her fight all his attempts to ensure her safety. Lily was the cause of all their heartache. The gates and the impending doom they all felt was her fault, because she’d been born, because she was a Lynea, because a guardian was on earth and would one day find her. And then what? Would Lily watch as Krieger and his men were slaughtered? Had Helen of Troy felt this way when she was snatched away from the ones she loved?
“I wouldn’t have said any of this if I didn’t consider you my friend.” Cherie took a sip of her drink. “I must be getting maternal in my old age.”
Lily knew Cherie was a friend and valued her advice, but unfortunately there was nothing she could do. She looked at her empty glass of wine. “I’ve had one too many. Would you point me in the direction of the bathroom?”
The space between Cherie’s eyes creased into two parallel lines, one day those would be permanent unless she took corrective measures. Somehow Lily didn’t think Cherie was the type for cosmetic surgery. Whatever she was thinking she kept it to herself and pointed towards an arched hallway entrance. “Use the one in Nina’s room. First door on the right.”
Lily hadn’t known they were close enough for Nina to have a room in Cherie’s home. What did Cherie think of Nina’s forced sleep state? She smiled at Cherie and then kept her eyes on her own feet as she walked down the hallway and into the designated room. She took a deep breath, feeling her ribcage expand with air and slowly, through pursed lips, let it out again. The bedroom was pretty but sterile in that way model homes are. There was a sumptuous red and gold comforter over a high canopy bed, an elaborately carved hope chest at the foot, and a couple of over-stuffed chairs facing each other as if having a conversation by the floor to ceiling windows.
I need to get away from Krieger, to protect him, to protect everyone from what is coming. I need to do the impossible. She walked over to the dresser and stared at her image in the mirror. “I need to find a way to kill my father.” She felt if her father was dead the gates could not be opened, and whatever the guardian was, he would not be able to cause any harm to the ones she loved. But how do you kill something that is in another place, a being that can look like anyone, who doesn’t tell you their name, who can turn into a burst of light so strong you feel your skin searing? “I have to find a way.”
He can’t be killed.
Lily whirled around looking for the man who spoke the words. There was no one in the room with her. Cautiously she walked backwards towards the door.
It’s not too late to seal the rift.
She stood motionless like somehow that would help her understand what was happening, to pull from the depths of her memory who the voice reminded her of, and then, as often happens, it hit her, it was the Elder’s voice. She reached out with her gift and walked over to the hope chest, lifting its heavy lid, smelling the pine, and moved the contents aside until a small book, no bigger than a modern paperback, with a cover that looked like gold and encrusted with red and green and blue gems, sparkled before her.
The imposter kept us from you.
The voice of the Elder was now joined with other voices, all speaking as one, bu
t each distinctive. Her gift told her it was the five voices of the Elders, together, somehow inside this golden book.
The imposter, who could that be? Thanking the gods that she’d worn a light jacket over her dress, she lifted the book, which wasn’t as heavy as she thought it would be, and slipped it into a pocket.
“Miss.”
She turned to see Liam standing in the doorway.
“You must come with me,” he said in an urgent tone. “It’s your Martha.”
Her world stopped spinning. “She’s not…” I won’t say it. She felt that if she uttered that dreadful one syllable word, it would make it so.
“Jo called.” Liam stepped into her personal space. “Martha’s being taken to the heart center in Fairfax.”
She listened, her limbs paralyzed, not responding to her frantic commands for them to move, to run, to do anything but stand impotent. I won’t accept this. Martha will be fine. No matter what it takes, I won’t let her go. Though they felt encased in concrete, she willed her feet to move, and sealed her fears behind anger. She followed him out the back of Cherie’s home and when she had her bearings she started running toward the castle. “I’ll drive,” she yelled back to Liam.
“No, Miss, you will not. We cannot leave yet.”
“What do you mean? Of course we’ll go right now.” She whipped around to face him, causing him to take a step back from her, and rubbed the iron ring on her left arm.
Liam held eye contact but was clearly uncomfortable telling her the situation. “Sundown is an hour away. You are not to leave the mountain. The king has ordered this.”
Lily didn’t have anything to say to that. Instead she turned and strode up the path leading to the castle.
“Give me your phone.” She reached out her hand. “I can call her, right?” She was taking her anger out on him. “Thank you,” she said guiltily, accepting the offered phone. Hadn’t Liam suffered enough for her impulsive actions? But this was Martha. She blinked back the unshed tears pooling in her eyes. Lily couldn’t lose Martha, not Martha, the one true constant throughout her life. The woman who’d raised her as her own with love and understanding. Who, with no complaints, had silently and heroically placed Lily’s needs above her own.
“I’ve contacted the king. He’ll see you when he can.”
“No, we’re going to him right now. I don’t care what he’s doing.”
“Miss, that would not be wise.”
She remembered another occasion when she’d insisted on being taken to the king. “I have no choice.” Lily pressed the dial button and Jo picked up on the first ring.
“Are you on your way? They’re stabilizing her now.”
“What happened?” Lily resumed her walk up the path – at least now she could see the castle.
“I don’t know. I found her slumped over a book in her favorite chair. Oh Lily, she can’t die, she just can’t.”
Hearing the panic in Jo’s voice increased her own. “She won’t.”
“You’re coming, right?”
“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Hurry, will you? I can’t stand to be here by myself.”
“I promise.” She looked up at the castle. I won’t lose Martha, I won’t allow it. She and Krieger had planned to visit her tonight. To tell her about the Other world and have her come live on the mountain with them. Why had they waited so long? How cruel was fate.
“Miss.” Liam reached out for his phone. He immediately started texting, waited for a response, and texted again. His shoulders raised a fraction with tension. “The king will meet you in your suite in twenty minutes.”
“The hell he will. Take me to him.” Liam widened his stance. “Has he rescinded his order? I’m to be taken to him whenever I wish it, no matter what he is doing.”
“Please, Miss, wait the few minutes, don’t put me in this situation.”
“She could die!” Lily screamed. “I’m going to take one of the cars. I don’t have to wait for permission.” She started jogging again, going towards the garage on the other side of the castle. Liam, a thousand times quicker than she, blocked her path and put his hands on her shoulders to stop her. “Miss, I’ll take you as far as the doctor’s office below.”
“Fine.”
He lowered his hands and she followed behind him. Too mad to look at him, she kept her eyes on the ground as they entered the elevator and descended.
Doctor Caanan was waiting for them when the doors opened, looking about as happy as Liam. “Come wait in my office.” He stepped in with them. “I’ve arranged for a private suite for Ms. Best, and I contacted the best cardiovascular doctor to consult on her condition.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Liam texting again. “The king’s helicopter will be here in five minutes,” he said.
He had a helicopter?
There were muffled loud voices, a door slammed, and then she saw Krieger moving towards her.
He had on black trousers and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and her heart stopped, overwhelmed by how handsome he was – until Krieger grabbed her by the arms. “Will I ever break your nasty habit of defying me?”
Lily would have stepped back if it were possible. “Martha could be dying. I have to get to her now.”
He let her go and exhaled. “I’ve made arrangements. I have urgent business right now. I can’t go with you. Lucien will go and all the vantors.”
She was stunned by his anger and it took her a moment to see the blood on his shirt. “What’s going on?”
He gave her a blank stare.
“There’s blood on your shirt.”
“It’s not mine.”
“Were you feeding?”
“No.”
She pointed at the blood, and asked, “Your urgent business?”
Krieger gave Liam a glacial stare. “It is state business.”
She’d heard of Krieger’s hunts to find her. She knew, or thought she knew, what he was capable of. “You’re interrogating someone.” Krieger blinked. “Aren’t you?”
Footsteps echoed down the hall and Hunter came into view. He was pale, very pale. “Lucien will be here momentarily.”
“Is it anyone I know?” she asked Krieger. He gave her no response. “Isn’t this enough?” She grabbed each of the bracelets that encircled her arms. “You force me to wear these.” The tips of Lily’s fingertips were tingling with that strange sensation of electricity. She had to calm down, to control herself, or she might have another episode like she had at the council meeting. “But this isn’t enough, is it? I feel like a prisoner here!” She gulped in air. “This can’t continue. I’m wearing the iron rings.” She noticed more bloodstains spattered on his shirt. “You must stop this witch hunt.”
She was lying to him as surely as he was lying to her. Each, in their way, was trying to protect the other from a truth neither wanted to acknowledge. Since the night she’d returned from her father’s realm, Lily had been formulating a plan to safeguard the ones she loved. The guardian would find her. Tonight, tomorrow, or months from now, she didn’t know when, but it was inescapable. She had to separate herself from Krieger, no matter how much pain it would cause her, to keep him safe.
Krieger reached out for her hand. There was blood on his forearm, and she shrank back from him. His jaw clenched and his eyes turned to ice. “Trust in me.”
“I don’t know you anymore,” Lily whispered, tears welling in her eyes. His anger was good. Let him hate me. Let him live.
“I’m ready.” She tore her eyes from Krieger, afraid he’d see the truth in them.
Lucien was walking briskly towards them. His hair was wet like he’d just stepped out of the shower. “Liam, your pack is on their way to the hospital. You’ll come with us; we’ll meet up with them there.”
Lily was numbed by the realization that someone was most likely chained, probably beaten, and being questioned right down the hall, and there was nothing she could do. They des
erve it, she told herself, knowing the atrocities the Brotherhood had committed. What have I become? I won’t think about that right now. Martha, I have to get to Martha.
Sandwiched between Liam and Lucien – covered in a tarp protecting him from the sun which hung just above the horizon – she rode in the backseat of the helicopter, praying that Martha was alive. When the helicopter touched down, hospital security swiftly moved them through to Martha’s room in ICU. The woman Lily saw through the window hooked up to far too many machines, looking old and frail, could not be Martha.
“Oh, baby.” She turned to see Jo run into Liam’s arms. “I’m so glad you got her here.” Jo reached out her hand to Lily. “What took you so long?”
“How is she?” Lily asked, clinging to Jo and not caring that she was touching her and crying.
“Not good. They found evidence that she’s had some silent strokes in the past.” Jo leaned against Liam. “I don’t know if she’s going to make it.”
“Don’t say that.” Lily wiped tears from her face. “She will be fine.”
“Go, sit with her.” Lucien nodded towards the door.
Jo extricated herself from Liam’s arms. “I’ll go in with you.”
The nurse looked up as they walked into Martha’s room. “You can stay for five minutes.”
Lily ignored her and started to take Martha’s hand, but decided against it. There were needles in her veins and she didn’t want to hurt her. “Martha, Jo and I are here.” Could Martha hear her? “We’ll stay right here with you.” The thought of Martha waking up alone brought fresh tears. “You rest and get better, all right? You can’t miss Christmas.”
“That’s right,” Jo picked up the thread when Lily couldn’t talk for crying. “We’re going to take a cruise this year. Get away from all the Christmas brouhaha.”
Lily spoke through the tears. “We can sit by the pool all day and take in a show at night, maybe hit the midnight buffet.” This was what Martha always wanted them to do, but they’d never gotten around to it.
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 30