“Tell me why,” I demanded as gruffly as I could manage.
“The ring,” he said. “Someone is after it.”
“Someone’s always after it,” I answered. “That’s why we hid it and ripped the memories of where it was out of my head.”
“Which would have been fine had you not come so close to getting yourself killed by your mother.” He swallowed hard. “When the curse was transferred from you it momentarily disrupted the shrouding around the ring. I felt it quickly but, by the time I realized what was going on, the curse was back on you and I was powerless to fix it without first getting you to utter that word. Now, whoever was after the ring was able to get a lock on it. They can find its whereabouts, but they can’t do it as quickly as we can.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, feeling woozier, more close to what would be death should I have been able to experience it.
“Because of you, Father. You’re connected to it in a way they could never be. Or, at least, a way I thought they could never be.”
“Spill,” I said impatiently.
“I wasn’t sure someone was after the ring until that girl in your office. Her sacrifice severed several of the booby traps I placed down as fail safes for the ring. It brought them exponentially closer, not that she had any idea she was even doing that.” He shook his head. “All that matters is that our enemy is close to finding the ring. We need to be quick. We need to move now. You want me to connect to that vampire? You want to ensure I won't hurt your friends or disrupt the life you’ve built? Fine by me. If it helps you work quicker, I’ll do it myself, and I’ll heal you. That way, we can get to work. We can stop whoever’s after the ring from getting it and getting control over every horrible creature that’s ever lived.”
“We…” I started breathlessly, starting to feel fainter than even before. “We…need Aria for the spell.”
“Yes we do,” Garreth answered. “And, unless my calculations are off, she’s going to be at your door and as angry as angel with clipped wings right about-”
A loud bang came on the door, knocking it off its hinges and sending it flying to the floor. Aria stood there, fourteen fang bites all over her neck and sweating like a demon.
“What did you do to me?” she hissed.
“Not nearly as much as we’re about to, I’m afraid,” Garreth responded. “Perhaps you should sit down for this.”
22
“You turned me into a dog!” Aria spit, sneering at me as she paced a circle around the living room of Merry’s apartment. She was obviously a little bit spun out, and I couldn’t blame her. The spell Garreth enacted as soon as the vampire got here was a doozy. It connected the three of us, with me in firm control of both Aria and Garreth’s actions. It didn’t mean they couldn’t talk, blink, or breathe without my approval. The ancient magic invoked in linking a dominant with his or her familiar wasn’t that intrusive.
This was Druid magic, more aligned with Haircut’s ancestors than either Garreth’s or Aria’s. Still, the Druids weren’t sadistic or power hungry people. They created these kinds of spells to ensure their powerful enemies were unable to harm them or each other, and that was the sort of control I had over my pair of guests at the moment. They were able to argue, but not attack. They were able to insult, but not maim or kill; at least, not without my consent. Oh. They also couldn’t get more than fifty feet out of my presence without succumbing to immense amounts of physical pain.
“You’re being dramatic,” I said, drawing a chalk circle along the tile in Merry’s doorway.
“I should have known better than to come running when I heard that song,” the vampire sighed. “Nothing good has ever happened to me while I’ve listened to that song.”
“I can think of a couple of things,” I said, standing and brushing chalk dust off of my hands.
“Now is not the time to attempt to be cute, Chester,” she answered, stopping in her tracks and glaring at me. “You’ve taken my freedom away. It won’t be forgotten.”
“I did what I had to, Aria,” I explained, walking toward her. “I meant no harm, and like I told you, it’s Callum now.”
“I can think of a much more fitting c—word for you, you arrogant son of a bitch.”
“You have no idea,” I answered, remembering my mother and the way she’d betrayed not only me but the world her original sin helped to create.
“How can you look at me and say you meant no harm?” she balked. “I’m a prisoner.”
She had a point, of course. The connection between us was ridiculously strong. Ever since Garreth completed his spell—a spell I’d watched him perform meticulously to make sure there was no funny business—I could feel both her and my son’s presence as though they were my own. Just being this close to her sent tingles and shivers down my spine.
“You’re a chess piece, I’m afraid,” I answered. “You’re a necessary evil that I have to employ.” I nodded. “And it’s definitely a more merciful method than I could have used.”
“Spare me,” she scoffed.
“That’s what I’m doing,” I answered. “Would you rather if I stole your fang? Dipped it in holy water? It would have had the same effect.”
It was a nasty little secret that the fang of a vampire dropped in holy water could be used to control a person or creature much in the same way the spell we were now under was capable of doing. Of course, a one fanged or completely de-fanged vampire was as good as dead in a place as dangerous as Savannah. Which was why I decided on doing things this way. She might not have agreed with me, but this was an act of mercy.
“I’ll let you go after this whole thing ends,” I said, letting my voice dip into a calmer tone. “I’ll even make it worth your while.”
“Don’t make me sick,” she answered. “Do you really think I’d ever sleep with you again after you did this to me?”
I chuckled. “I was actually talking about a more monetary sort of payment.”
“I’m even less interested in that,” she answered. Aria shook her head.
“Have it your way,” I responded, brushing past her. “Either way, you’re going to do what I want. The spell makes sure of that. Now sit down!”
I felt a rush of power come over me as the magic flared up inside of me. Aria sat on the floor, unable to refuse my command.
“One hundred years ago, you told me you were trying to become a better person,” she said from her seat on the floor.
I turned, looking down at her. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were pursed together in a way that reminded me of the more innocent version of herself she used to be.
“Is this the form that better person took, Callum?” she asked, finally using my preferred name. “Is this who you thought you would become?”
“That’s not fair,” I answered, blinking past the hurt that came with her question. “I’m in a tough spot, a complicated spot.”
“Is there any other kind?” she asked, daring me with arched eyebrows and a cocked head. “We’ve both lived long enough to know that there’s always going to be a reason to do the things you swore you never would. Not doing those things, standing tall and stern in the face of all the issues that make the spots as complicated as you say they are; that’s what makes you the person you are.” She looked at her fingernails, painted in purple. “I wonder, Callum. Are you still seeing your brother? What does he have to say about all of this?”
I blinked at her, not saying a word.
I didn’t have to. Whether it was because of the look on my face or the connection between us, she knew the answer.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” she said. “I suppose he got tired of you too.” She shook her head. “I wonder what took him so long.”
I glared down at her, anger boiling up inside of me. “Unless you’re keen on the idea of running chest first into a wooden spike, I suggest you keep my brother’s name out of your filthy mouth.” I blinked. “In fact, why don’t you just shut the hell up altogether?”
I felt the po
wer surge through me again and watched as Aria’s mouth flew shut. She glared up at me, and I felt dirty as I watched her there, powerless to speak her peace, powerless to move off that floor.
“There’s an artifact at play here, Aria,” I said, trying to explain myself. “If it lands in the wrong hands, the whole world will pay the price. I can’t allow that to happen, and I won’t put the people I care about at more risk than they need to be in by allowing a loose cannon to run all over the place. You’re here because I need you to make sure that doesn’t happen. Garreth is smarter than me. He’s the smartest person in the world and, in a lot of ways, that makes him the most dangerous. I love him, but I don’t trust him. If he gets out of line, you’re going to have to kill him. Do you understand me?”
She stared at me silently.
“Oh right,” I stammered. “You can speak now, I guess.”
“How generous of you,” she answered, her mouth finally free to open.
“I’m a saint,” I answered. “You can stand now too if you want.”
She did, staring at me the entire time. “You should have told me what was going on earlier,” she said, standing up.
“We both know I couldn’t trust you to do the right thing, especially if the right thing is also the dangerous thing. Don’t try to feed me some lie about helping me out of the goodness of your heart.”
“I wouldn’t disrespect you that way,” she answered. “That’s not what I meant. We both know that left to my own devices, I’d rush off to the Bahamas and let the world burn.” She grinned. “I just meant you should have told me about the ring.”
“How did you know I was talking about a ring?” I asked, walking toward her.
“I’m a vampire, not a hermit,” she answered. “I hear things, Callum. Specifically, I hear things from bad people.”
“What did you hear?” I asked, my eyes widening.
“Nothing much,” she chimed back. “Only the identity of the person after the Ring of Solomon.” She laughed loudly. “That’s right, you ginger moron. I know who’s been messing with you.”
23
“You need to listen to me before you go running off into some deranged trap you won’t be able to get yourself out of,” Garreth said, staring at me with a mix of concern and aggravation that I found to be pretty unsettling. His worry for me was genuine. I could see it in his face, and it was that worry which stoked the anger showcased in his flared nostrils and shaking head. Still, watching him have this sort of reaction after centuries of being away from him was enough to spin me out entirely.
Add that to the fact that—as my son—he had absolutely no business telling me what to do, and I was left with a little anger myself.
I stared at the others surrounding Merry’s kitchen table. With the exception of Amber (who was sleeping and far too young to concern herself with this sort of conversation anyway) and Aria (who was the subject of said conversation), the gang was all here. It was strange to look at them all in one place. There was an overweight detective who had—in so many ways—always sort of stood for me second (or seven hundredth) shot at a family, an alpha werewolf without a pack or direction, a diluted quasi demigod with passive luck powers and a disposition that would have made Shirley Temple roll her eyes in disgust (trust me, she wasn’t always as sweet as she liked to let on) a wise man with anger on his face and mystery in his heart. And there, popping the top off what had to be her third beer of the night, was a wavy haired woman who might have meant more to me than any of them.
“I’m sorry,” Merry said, taking a delicate drink of the beer and setting it back on the table. “But I might actually agree with him this time. As much as we don’t know about Garreth here, we know even less about the vampire in my living room.” She took another drink. “Which is a sentence I never thought I’d be forced to say.”
“I know more about her than you think,” I answered swiftly.
“Is that right?” Merry asked, curiosity pulling up her eyebrows.
“It was a long time ago,” I explained, feeling a hint of a spark in my chest. Was she jealous of the relationship I’d had with Aria and, if so, what did that mean about the way she might have felt about me?
“I’m sure it was,” she scoffed. “All the more reason not to trust her. In case you’ve forgotten, you basically had to kidnap the pale bitch to get her here.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I answered, shaking my head. “I also haven’t forgotten about the spell tying Aria to my will.” I nodded firmly. “I forced her to tell me the truth, and she did.”
“And what exactly is the truth, Uncle C? What did she tell you?” Andy asked, tapping his fingers against the kitchen table impatiently. He was a man of action, my nephew, and he was itching to get to work.
“Word on the supernatural grapevine is that a man who looked to be in his mid to late fifties came around asking for help procuring a very special artifact.”
“The Ring?” Clint asked, stuffing a fistful of Amber’s cheese puffs into his mouth.
“Not the Ring,” I explained. “I can only imagine that anyone smart enough to know something like the Ring exists would also be too smart to go around running his mouth about it. There are a lot of people in the world, and in Savannah specifically, who wouldn’t cotton too well to a tool which would effectively make you the master of an entire race of creatures.”
“So what does this have to do with anything?” Haircut asked, looking up at me with an overly happy look plastered across his goofy face. “Also, are there any more cheese puffs?”
“It matters because of what he was looking for,” I answered, completely ignoring his request for junk food.
“And what was that?” Andy asked impatiently.
“The Red Compass of Clarity,” I answered with a smug smile on my face.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Garreth said his face dropping. “
Cos'è questo—”
“No,” I said quickly, shutting Garreth down. “No Italian. If you want to speak, you can do it in a way that everyone can understand. These people are just as much danger as we are. They’ve all risked their lives for me more than once.” I shrugged. “Well, Haircut hasn’t, but he’s lucky, and that comes in handy.”
“Are we still calling me Haircut?” Haircut asked, running a conscious hand through his hair.
“Very well, Father,” Garreth said through pursed lips. “This is ridiculous.”
“Why is it ridiculous?” Andy asked, looking for Garreth to me and back again. “What the hell is the Red Compass of Whatever?”
“Clarity,” Garreth responded, still staring at me. “And it’s nothing.”
“It’s definitely not nothing,” Andy answered.
“But it is,” I said. “It’s a wives’ tale. It doesn’t exist. Centuries ago, there was a rumor about a compass being dropped to earth by the god Jupiter that could answer any question, uncover any secret, but it didn’t really exist.”
“So why is someone under the impression it did?” Merry asked, pulling the cabinet open and tossing Haircut a bag of cheese poofs. “I mean, I’ve never even heard of that thing.”
“You wouldn’t have,” I answered. “It’s not one of those tales that had lived on through the centuries.”
“Which means someone has been doing their homework,” Andy said.
“This isn’t a week’s worth of homework?” Garreth scoffed, echoing my sentiments exactly. “Excuse me, Meredith. Would you happen to have a computer on the premises? I need to look something up.”
“I have a computer in my pocket,” she said, pulling out her cell phone and tossing it to my son. “But I’m going to warn you now, if you even attempt to go through that phone to find anything to do with my daughter, I’ll grab that knife in Callum’s back pocket and cut off any piece of you that dangles.”
“Well then,” Garreth said, clearing his throat. “I would remind you that my interest in your daughter has run its course, but I can tell by your combination
of expression, tone, and word choices that you’re not open to entertaining that idea right now.”
“Just be quick,” she growled.
“So some guy is running around looking for something that doesn’t exist,” Andy summed up. “Doesn’t mean he’s after the Ring. He could just be one of those Comic-Con geeks who got overzealous.”
“Nothing wrong with Comic-Con,” Haircut chimed in.
“The fact that he’s offering a half a million dollars and a paid for house in exchange for the Compass as well as help with what the Compass might find suggests something more sinister than an Avengers fan.”
“Nothing wrong with the Avengers either,” Haircut said. “Specifically Thor. There’s especially nothing wrong with Thor.”
“So what do we do about it?” Andy asked.
“We do what we always do, Andy,” I said. “We find the guy and squeeze him until he bleeds.”
“Fine,” Andy said, standing. “I’ll get on the horn and-”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, pointing back to Garreth, who was busy typing away on Merry’s phone. “Unless I’m mistaken, our resident savant is very close to finding that answer for us.”
“Not at all, Father,” Garreth answered. “I found the answer thirty seconds ago. I am, at present, watching a video of a cat playing with a bird atop a fire hydrant.”
“Oh, I love that one,” Haircut said cheerfully.
Garreth looked up at us, pulling his attention away from pet antics. “The level of study it would take for someone to reach knowledge of both the Ring and the ruse of the Compass indicates at least ten years of study. Perhaps more. The fact that he doesn’t know that the Compass and—with it—the god Jupiter never actually existed, suggests he’s a baseline mortal. Using that rather unique intel as well as the age range Aria indicated, I narrowed my search down to exactly one.” He turned the phone around, showcasing the Facebook page of a man named Eric Woodman. He looked like a normal guy, a little thin, a little gangly, but definitely normal. “He currently works as a professor of Literature at your local university. Before that, he taught World Mythology at NYU. He had two children, a boy and a girl. His posts indicate the girl has been missing for days and that his wife died late last year from an undisclosed accident.” He cleared his throat. “He had a life insurance policy on her. Would anyone like to venture a guess as to the payout amount?”
Curse of Cain (Immortal Mercenary Book 2) Page 13