by Amy Miles
But the water that laps against Gabriel’s feet is nothing like that of the ocean or any other body of water he has ever seen. Even in the fading twilight, he can see the pink hue that permeates the water.
“How is this possible?” he asks, turning to speak to Elias. Gabriel’s mentor huddles not far away, deep in whispered discussion with Seneh.
They both look up, cast their gaze beyond him and seem completely unphased by the amazing sight. “Some scientists claim it is caused by the algae living within the lake, while others have ruled out that theory. Humans have only to look to the beginning to see what has caused this amazing marvel.”
Gabriel stares past Elias to Seneh. “Are you going to put that into English for me or do I have to waste my time guessing?”
Seneh laughs. He stretches out his broadsword, carefully rubbing a warm stone along its edge. “He speaks of the rains that fell from the sky, creating the flood. Some versions speak of the water rising from the depths of the earth. Others say that it fell in the form of rain. Both are true.
I don’t get it,” Gabriel steps out of the water. Sand clings to his damp feet as he sinks down onto a log beside the two angels. “How does that make this water pink?”
“Some say that the sunlight coming through the flood rains made it look pink.” Seneh shrugs. “I don’t really know. We were busy on the front lines.”
Gabriel’s eyebrow rises. “That happened a long time ago, right?” Elias dips his head in approval. “So then that would mean you guys are really old. Like ancient, even.”
“Age, growth, the passage of time…all of these are human terms, created to help you understand your place in the cycle of life. As you can now see, when eternity expands out before you, time no longer matters.” Elias says, stretching out his wings, like a cat after a long nap in a warm window.
Gabriel turns to look out over the lake. Its surface is eerily calm considering the winds that have begun to whip around them. “It feels weird here.”
Elias nods. “Humans can sense there is something peculiar about this place. Some would say magical even, but none can truly figure out the secrets of Hiller Lake.”
“So, what now?” Gabriel rises and approaches the tall grasses that grow at the edge of the beach, sinking to his knees. The heat of the day has begun to flee and a chill hangs on the early evening air, refreshing and eerie at the same time.
Australia looks nothing like he imagined. It is too beautiful, too rugged. He can appreciate the primitive nature of the land and if it weren’t for the heat, he could see himself making a home near the ocean.
“Now,” Elias pauses, stretching out his legs as he sinks down onto the edge of the sand, “you swim.”
“Whoa, hang on a second,” Gabriel says, marching back toward him. Seneh’s lips curl into a smirk as he silently sharpens his blade. “You can’t be serious. That lake is probably full of hungry monsters.”
“Oh, to be sure.” Elias grins, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His eyes glint with humor. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little crocodile.”
Gabriel straightens his shoulders, annoyed with his mentor’s taunting. “Laugh all you want, but I’m not going in there alone.”
“Of course not.” Seneh rises to his feet. “I’m going with you.”
He should have known his guardian would follow him to the ends of the earth. “Fine,” Gabriel kicks at a sand dune, not the least bit excited about this. “But if I get eaten, this is all on you, Elias.”
His mentor leans forward, all traces of humor gone from his face. “What lives in the lake is not what you should be worried about, Gabriel. Fear what you will find in its depths.”
Ten
Fane paces the length of the hall just outside the great room of Bran Castle. He is deeply unsettled by the presence of so many hunters in his home. It doesn’t feel right. Despite his reluctant agreement to host the hunters here, he is definitely having second thoughts.
He spins around when the doors to the great room open inward. Nicolae pokes his head out and waves him over. “It’s a go.”
“Are you sure?”
When Nicolae grins, his youthful appearance does little to instill confidence in Fane’s heart. “I told you to trust me.”
“We haven’t made it to Canada yet,” he mutters as he follows Nicolae into the room.
Dozens of beady eyes rise to meet Fane’s as he approaches the foot of the table. The air feels thick and oppressive as he tries to take a breath. This is a mistake. I should never have allowed this.
A tall man stands and a hush falls over the room. Fane eyes his large frame, noting the scars along his face and the slight twist to his nose. “Grigori,” he nods in acknowledgement.
They have tussled several times over the past few years. He knows the man’s strengths as well as his weaknesses. Unfortunately for Fane, the man possesses very few.
“Are we correct in assuming this was not your plan?” Grigori asks.
If he was human, Fane is sure he would be sweating profusely by now. Instead, he remains cool and aloof. “You are correct.”
“And yet you agreed?”
Fane clears his throat and casts a tight glance at Nicolae. The boy stands straight and proud at Fane’s side. Perhaps Nicolae really could pull off being a leader. “Reluctantly, but Nicolae can be rather…persuasive.”
Grigori cracks a hint of a smile. “Gets that from his uncle.”
At the mention of Sorin Funar, Fane struggles to conceal the growl rising in his throat. No matter what friendship he might have formed with Sorin’s nephew, he has no intention of ever forgiving the deceased man for luring Roseline to his dungeon.
Nicolae steps forward to intercede, but Fane places a hand on his arm. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure he taught you to be a good leader.”
Murmurs rise around the table, but Fane ignores each of them. “I realize the need for your help in this matter, but I must impress upon you the danger that you will be facing. I cannot guarantee your safety.”
“Nor should you try,” a man with a bushy red beard man calls out from the far end of the table, his eyes flashing with barely concealed anger. Fane nods in agreement, thankful that they at least understand each other.
This truce will be fragile at best. Neither side wants it, but both know they need it.
“The trip to Canada will not be an easy one. The journey will be long and taxing on you. The summers are cold and the winters fierce. You will need to pack warm clothes.”
“We are mountain men, immortal,” a man beside Grigori protests. “We know how to handle the cold.”
Fane leans forward, his knuckles popping as he applies weight on them. “I assure you, you have never felt winds like this before.”
Sadie shifts uneasily in her chair as the men around her puff up with indignation. Nicolae covers his face with his hands, shaking his head. Fane understands his frustration all too well, but he wonders if the boy truly comprehends what he is about to face.
“This compound is deep within the northern territory of Canada. It is called the Senthe base, run by a group of highly skilled immortals. Some of you may recognize them from previous skirmishes. This remote location offers frozen wastelands and death to any who dare to enter. Most of your men will not survive the cold, let alone the battle. The ones that do may wish they hadn’t.”
***
“That sounded pretty intense,” William says, plopping down onto a couch in Bran Castle’s library, soup bowl in hand. Walls of books tower to the high ceilings above. A fire crackles in the hearth, spilling warmth into the room. William tugs a blanket into his lap. “Everything ok?”
“It went as expected,” Nicolas nods, lifting his head from the map he has spread on the table before him. Try as he might to find any sign of the Senthe base Fane mentioned on the map, he finds only barren, raw wilderness. Of course, he should have figured that. No immortal would create a hideout where hunters could easily penetrate.
“I h
eard we are leaving.” William tips his bowl just enough for Nicolae to see three enormous scoops of ice cream.
Nicolae shakes his head, laughing. “Only you would eat ice cream when it’s the dead of winter.”
“I’ve got a blanket and a cozy fire. I’m good.” William shrugs. “So what’s the deal with this base then? Sounds kinda weird.”
Nicolae leans back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes are tired from reading under candlelight, and the muscles in his neck and back are stiff from sitting far too long. “I don’t really know much about it, for obvious reasons. Fane says it will be the safest place for you and Sadie.”
“And you agreed to this?” William lifts the bowl to lick off a drip of chocolate.
“I did.” Nicolae begrudgingly nods. Even though he likes to think he can trust Fane, agreeing to place himself in a small building with other immortals isn’t exactly on his top ten list of things he wants to do before he dies. “There is a war coming and this will be the safest place for you.”
He pauses and looks to where Sadie is curled up in an armchair in the far corner of the room, as far from the fire as she can get while still remaining in the room. “Fane has agreed to let me train with Sadie, but only when he is present. I guess that’s something.”
Sadie’s expression turns sour. “He still thinks I’m going to bite you, doesn’t he?”
Nicolae closes the map before him and pushes up from his chair, moving to sit beside her in the oversized chair. It’s a tight fit but he doesn’t mind it one bit. “It’s not you that he’s worried about. It’s me. He’s worried that if you attack me, I’ll have to stake you in the heart.”
“Alright, Buffy,” Sadie chuckles, smacking him on the arm hard enough to leave a bruise. “Easy on the staking bit, will ya?”
“Did someone say Buffy?” William asks, his head craning back to look at them. “That girl is one hot chick.”
Sadie rolls her eyes and snatches a pillow to throw at him. William cries out as his bowl tumbles to the ground, his spoon splattering melted ice cream everywhere as it bounces off the hard wood. “Oh! Not cool, Sadie. Not cool.”
He dips low to retrieve his bowl, groaning loudly at the puddle of goo underfoot. Nicolae smirks, leaning back to rest his head atop Sadie’s. This feels almost normal. Almost.
“So what about these Senthe? Are they a different type of immortal or something?” Sadie asks, watching as William leaves the room to grab a cloth.
“I’ve never actually heard of them before, which is odd since Sorin had spies everywhere.” He glances over at the map and frowns. “Apparently the immortals were still a step ahead of us.”
“Don’t feel so bad.” She places a hand on his chest as she snuggles close. “We are way cooler than you.”
He barks out a laugh as he encloses her in his arms. “That is debatable.”
The door to the library opens and William steps in. When he looks to where they sit, his nose scrunches up and he makes a show of covering his eyes. “Ah, come on guys. There is way too much PDA going on in this room.”
Sadie laughs and leaps up from the chair, tiptoeing lightly across the back of the couch before doing a front flip to land silently before her brother. When he opens his eyes to see her standing an inch from his nose, his shriek of terror is priceless.
Nicolae howls with laughter, clutching his stomach as William flails back, bouncing hard off the door before sliding to the floor. His face goes from white to red in a matter of seconds as he comes up, spluttering.
“What are you doing? Trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Nah. I think she was looking for a snack,” Nicolae calls, grinning mischievously.
William’s face drains of color once more as he darts a nervous glance at his sister. “He’s just joking, right?”
“Oh, come on, Will. You know I’d never bite you.”
“Why not?” He asks defensively.
“Well, you kinda stink.”
Nicolae erupts with laughter as William’s mouth gapes open. “I…I do not stink!”
Leaning forward, Nicolae makes a show of sniffing the air. He scrunches up his nose. “You do kinda stink.”
William scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. “The soap here is weird. It’s not spring fresh the way I like it.”
“You’re such an idiot,” Sadie snickers. “I’m not talking about your soap preferences. I’m talking about your blood.”
The laughter in the room instantly cuts off. William and Nicolae exchange a worried glance. Sadie’s smile fades. “What? I’m not allowed to admit that I notice stuff like that?”
“No, of course you can. It’s just…”Nicolae trails off, unsure of how to explain without hurting her feelings.
“It’s creepy,” William finished for him.
“Wow, way to earn subtlety points,” Nicolae growls.
“Be that as it may,” Sadie says, interrupting the tension in the room, “it’s still the truth. And you, dear brother, reek.”
Nicolae shifts his gaze toward Sadie, confused. “I thought blood would smell good to you.”
“It does. Like yours, it’s really nice.” She grins, punching him on the arm. “But William’s has this…sour scent to it.”
“Hmm.” He purses his lips. “I wonder why.”
“Because they are related.” Fane winces as he steps into the room, blasted by the heat billowing out from the fire. Nicolae rushes forward and tosses a bucket of dirt onto it, dousing the flames.
Fane smiles his thanks as he moves to the bookshelves and traces his finger along the leather bound bindings. He plucks random books from the wall, looks at them and then replaces each as he continues his search. “Immortals never look upon their own flesh and blood as food. That would be…disgusting.”
“Oh,” William gulps loudly, rubbing at his neck. “Good to know.”
Sadie sticks out her tongue at him. “See. Told you.”
Fane clears his throat. No one realized he had shifted to join their group. Nicolae frowns, reminded of how eerily quiet immortals can be when it serves their purpose. “William may be safe, but Nicolae is not. Sadie’s control over her thirst is impressive, but it is not infallible. One of these days she will fail, and when she does, I pray that she does not regret it.”
His words hang heavily over the silent room. The only sounds are the howling of the wind beyond the castle walls and the sputtering of the dying fire.
“What are in those books?” Nicolae asks, trying to break the somber mood in the room. He can tell Sadie is caught between fuming and fear that Fane might be right.
Fane turns and hands a book to Nicolae. Its cover is made of supple black leather, obviously much newer than the other books housed in this great library. “This book will tell you everything there is to know about the Senthe base. They are no different than Sadie or me. The Senthe is an organization, a secret society among my world, if you will.”
“Oh, great,” William groans, sinking back to lean against the wall. “Because history has shown us that secret societies only exist for the good of the people.”
Fane’s lip curls with humor. “This one actually does. We were created by a noble founder. I believe even you, William, can find no fault in Roseline.”
“Hang on a second,” Nicolae says, gripping tightly to the book. “You’re saying Roseline helped form this group?”
“No.” Fane turns to look at him. “I’m saying it was her idea to create it in the first place.”
***
The sound of dripping has returned. Roseline groans, rolling to her side. The dirt floor is cold beneath her and the light dismal. She is back in her pit.
“Roseline,” a voice nearby rasps.
She bolts upright, instantly wishing she hadn’t. Her head spins as pain lashes out with a vengeance against her mind. She clamps her eyes shut, praying for the torment to end.
“I knew it was you.”
Barely opening one eye, she search
es for the voice. It comes from a person hanging from the far wall, nearly fifteen feet overhead. Thick, rusted chains hold the boy aloft. Blood clings to much of his bare skin, evidence of the earlier torture she passed out before.
His face is a mess of gashes and his right eye is swollen completely shut. Numerous knife wounds slit across the flesh of his throat and arms. Crimson droplets trail slowly but steadily down his leg, pattering onto the floor.
She groans and buries her head in her hands. She can’t handle this. Not this.
“Are you ok?” He calls down to her.
“No,” she croaks, releasing her head to clutch her arms about her curled knees as she begins to rock. It has been too long since she last had a bloodletting with Malachi. She can feel the poison beginning to take control. “You shouldn’t be here. This is bad. Very bad.”
“Tell me about it. I had reservations for dinner tonight.”
Her mouth gapes open as she lifts her head to stare at the boy. “Are you…did you just make a joke?
“Yeah, it’s just this thing I do right before I pee myself.” He tries to look down to see if that has already happened, but his chains keep him from seeing. He goes limp, giving up. “My uncle always said I’d make a terrible prisoner. Guess he was right.”
Roseline opens and closes her mouth, unsure of what to say, or even if she should believe he is here. “Are you real?”
“Afraid so. Can’t you smell me?” When she swallows roughly, he winces. “Sorry. Poor choice of words.”
“I agree.” She releases her hold on her knees and presses her palms back against the wall, inching her way to her feet. She can feel the weakness in her legs but refuses to acknowledge it.
“I’ve seen you before.” She leans back to rest against the wall. Just the effort it takes to stand is exhausting, but she needs to see his face.
The boy nods. His chains shift, casting him just far enough into the light to confirm it for her. “I remember… I nearly snapped your arm in half when you tried to touch Gabriel.” An irrational rage begins to simmer in her stomach, intense and highly explosive.
“My name is Enael.”
She is only vaguely aware that he spoke as she closes her eyes and sways, remembering the dart that burrowed into her chest, leaving her paralyzed and helpless to save Gabriel. Her lip curls into a snarl. “You took him from me.”