Midnight Falls: Children of the Goddess, Book 4

by R. G. Alexander

  It was so weak she almost missed it, as though they had used all of their strength to send a signal, and that was all they had left. “It’s Alexei and the twins.”

  Wyley bent down beside them. “Are they in danger? Are the others? Do they need us?”

  Hannah closed her eyes, trying to piece it together. She felt Jasyn beside her, both of them reaching out for the weakening connection. “Yes and no. I don’t think they are in immediate danger where they are. But something…” Another burst of power, an unmistakable image exploding behind her lids. “Great Mother. Jasyn.”

  Jasyn lifted her to her feet, his expression grim. “I saw it. The Shadow Wolves are coming. And they aren’t alone.”

  Hannah grabbed her knotted stomach, fear chilling her blood. “From what Alexei is sending, more than we’ve ever seen in one place.”

  Wyley stood up and strode swiftly over to the couch, grabbing his hat. “I told you. One exciting thing after another.” They watched him settle his cowboy hat in a rakish slant on his head, his grin bloodthirsty. “What are we waiting for? It looks like a storm is brewing with our name on it.”

  Hannah couldn’t share his eagerness. Without her temporary abilities, she wasn’t strong, couldn’t affect nature. Nothing. She certainly didn’t know how to fight. How could she help the children? Nicolette?

  Jasyn gripped her shoulders and shook her lightly. “Hannah, you are Were. When the time comes, if it comes, instinct will kick in. Trust me.”

  Wyley nodded. “He’s right, Miss Hannah. Besides, if any of them touch you, your mate and I will rip off their arms and use their claws for back scratchers.”

  Jasyn’s lip curled in response. “I do like the way he thinks. I only wish Kit and Arygon were here as well. If the little guy is right, this will be one hell of a battle.”

  A battle. She hadn’t even shifted yet, was barely mated. She could only hope her instincts didn’t taken a vacation right when she needed them the most.

  Chapter Nine

  Midnight was nervous, but if Liz wasn’t in his mind, she wouldn’t have known it from his expressionless face. She could only imagine how hard this must be for him, returning home.

  “This was never my home, Lizbeth. Not since I was a child.”

  Since his mother left. Another story Malcolm had never shared. She was away. Traveling. That was the only excuse she heard when she was first introduced to his family. Midnight’s memories were different. His father had sent their mother away, determined that she would not weaken his heirs with her mothering. To keep his own secrets safe, Elder Abaddon had held her children hostage. Liz already hated the twisted old jackass. Now more than ever.

  The six of them—Zander and Regina, Lux and Sylvain, she and Midnight walked through the gate without incident, leaving the few Sariel guards they had with them to disappear into the shadows around the house. She knew the others were only thinking of their children, worrying for their safety. Liz was as well, but she was more concerned about her grathita. Memories continued to flood into his mind. And the closer he got, the darker they became.

  The blood servant opened the door, a new one, Liz noted, but just as emaciated and haggard as the last. “You are expected. Please go through to the Great Room, Elder Abaddon will be with you shortly.” He turned and disappeared swiftly around the corner, leaving them unattended in the foyer.

  She was seeing the house through new eyes. Midnight’s eyes. Things were different. The statues that had been added, each one more horrific and ridiculous than the next. The painting on the ceiling had been halfway finished the last time he’d seen it. But he could still see himself running up the main stairs as a child, laughing with his brother as they played hide and seek with their cousins.

  “Goddess, I hate this place.” Regina flinched, looking over at Midnight apologetically. “I just…well the last time I was here…”

  “Don’t upset yourself, Reader. I hold no fondness for this place or its occupants.” They walked toward the Great Room, reaching out with their senses for any sign of Nicolette or the children. “And the feeling is mutual, as you can see from this warm family reunion.”

  He opened the door and headed inside, stopping dead at the sight of the imposing wall-sized oil painting that was the focal point of the room. It was an image of the Great War, the war between the Shadow Wolves and the Truebloods. Malcolm Abaddon stood victorious on the battlefield, bodies strewn at his feet, his hand raised to the swirling storm above him.

  “Storm Bringer.” Midnight’s whisper was full of emotion. Longing. Sadness. Regret. Liz slid her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. Lux and Zander came to stand beside them.

  Zander spoke in a low, solemn voice. “They say the Truebloods would have fallen into chaos without him. Before he took command, taking the fight to the Les Loup De La Hombre, the Trust was not unified as to what course of action to take, and the clans themselves were hesitant to act. He brought everyone together, fought with a ferocity none had seen before or since, and laid the Shadow low.”

  Lux nodded. “He was a hero. A leader.”

  “He was a lunatic bent on revenge. And now you’ve come back to kill me, haven’t you, Marcos? Come back to kill me for what I did to him. Knew you’d come. Knew it all along.”

  Midnight closed his eyes for a moment, turning with a sardonic smile to greet the small, agitated man on the other side of the room. “I missed you, too, Father. I’m glad we had this opportunity to catch up on old times. Now where is Nicolette?”

  Elder Abaddon tilted his head, gripping the chair at the head of the long table, talking to the painting instead of Midnight. “Was it my fault you wouldn’t do what you were told? Wouldn’t back down? Now Sebastian and Sari are dead. And my Nicolette, what will they do to my Nicolette? All because of you.”

  Zander rounded the meeting table and gripped the elder’s robes, nearly lifting him off the floor. “Old man, you have never been the sanest of vampires, but you were a respected Trueblood once. A man with a modicum of honor. We know Nicolette came here. Tell us where she is. Now.”

  Abaddon’s face screwed up, his eyes bulging as he struggled in Zander’s grip. “Sullied your blood line with a Reader. Thought they were all gone. Just a myth. If you hadn’t been so like your father we could have used you. But you were good. Too good. Killed Grey Wolf. And my Sebastian’s dead.” Abaddon started to weep and Zander sighed, lowering his flailing feet back to the floor.

  “He isn’t making sense. Nothing he’s thinking is making any sense. It’s like there are more—” Regina’s golden gaze met Liz’s, sharing the unbelievable possibility forming in her mind. “Zander, remove his robes.”

  “Nooooo!” Abaddon tried to run but he tripped over his own bedraggled hem, falling to the ground. Zander didn’t hesitate. He slipped a hand beneath the neckline of the once elaborate robe and shredded it down the middle, baring the writhing man’s back for all to see.

  “Great Mother, protect us.”

  “Aren’t those—shit.”

  Liz followed Midnight as Lux and Sylvain exclaimed in horror. Liz was feeling a little queasy herself. She’d never seen anything like it. The elder was covered with the marks of the Shadow. Tattooed from head to toe. The only skin that could be seen was riddled with bite marks and deep scarring. Layers on layers of scarring. The body was unable to heal when the old magic was infused into the skin. The scar that had curved across Midnight’s face was fading with the marks on his neck, but it was nothing compared to what had been done to his father.

  Abaddon rolled over, revealing a front just as mutilated as his back. Liz joined Midnight as he knelt down beside his father. He was confused. What did this mean? The man he’d seen as the epitome of evil, possibly even a leader of asura saMsaki, was instead a victim? Or had he given his body willingly to the Shadow Wolves?

  Wild, milky eyes lifted to Midnight’s. “Damn the Goddess and her curse. Why did She make me love her? And now it’s too late. All our children are
dead. We will all be dead when the others arrive. We’re all dead!” Insane laughter choked him, blood and spittle flying out of his cracked, thin lips.

  Midnight lifted him off the floor, into his arms while his father continued to gasp for air. He didn’t flinch when the scars on the old man’s body opened anew, as though they were fresh wounds, gushing with what little blood he had left.

  “He’s dying. Oh, Zander. The thoughts in his mind.” Liz heard Regina sobbing behind her, knew they were all there, watching helplessly as this man, regardless of how he’d lived his life, was slowly dying an agonizing death.

  Midnight set him down gently, carefully on his side so he wouldn’t choke on his own blood, before standing to join the others. Liz felt her own heart breaking for all her mate had lost. And for what? It seemed they were further away from the answers than ever.

  “I’m so sorry, my love.”

  “You’re my family, wildcat. This man is a stranger to me.”

  He turned to the others, his hands covered in blood, his eyes dark with suppressed rage. “He’s not dead yet, but he’s in no position to stop us. This house is a labyrinth. If we’re going to find the children and Nicolette, we need to start now.”

  “I don’t understand why they’re still blocking us. Hiding from us.”

  Regina took Sylvain’s hand. “I don’t think it’s us they are hiding from. We aren’t alone here. Even now it feels like someone, or some thing is watching us. The elder’s last thoughts before he fell unconscious were of Nicolette. And another woman with dark hair and,”—she glanced up at Midnight, an apology in her eyes, —“eyes just like yours.”

  “My mother. It’s nice to know he is thinking of her at the end.”

  “You don’t understand, Midnight. It was recent. He was seeing them together. And Nicolette wasn’t in very good shape.” Zander pulled Regina closer when Midnight snarled, rejecting her words.

  Liz put a hand on his arm. “He is crazy. Not making any sense. We don’t know if his mind was playing tricks on him. Whatever the case, we have to find Nic and the children, and get the hell out of this asylum.”

  Midnight nodded, heading toward the painting on the wall. “Whose idea was it to put this picture here?”

  Liz’s brow furrowed at the unusual question. “Malcolm’s. They wanted to hang it in Haven, or the main entry to the manor, but Mal talked them out of it. He said he wanted to be on display in his favorite room in the house.”

  Midnight’s chuckle was grim as he pulled the frame off the wall, smearing it with blood and tilting it on its side in the corner. “Malcolm hated this room. We studied here, stuck inside when all he wanted to do was roam the grounds and play pirate. That is of course, until we found it.”

  Lux caught the painting before it fell to the marble floor. “Found what?”

  Midnight smacked the lower portion of the wall with the flat of his hand, smiling when a panel slid open, revealing a small, narrow tunnel. “Our special place. I’m sure Father and other members of the family knew about it. But at the time we thought we’d discovered the greatest secret of all time. It’s a tunnel that leads to nearly every room in the house.” He caught Zander’s gaze with his own. “Including mine.”

  “Alexei.” Regina tried to push him aside to enter the tunnel and find her child, but Midnight stopped her. “Let me go, please. I need to find him. Need to make sure he’s okay.”

  “I go first.” Liz watched his gaze land once more on Abaddon’s body, and she saw a memory that wasn’t her own. A day he’d hid behind this panel, listening to his father talk to a female blood servant as though she were his mother, calling her by his mother’s name as he beat her and forced her to submit to his will. Midnight hated him then. Hated him because he knew that his mother was witnessing the abuse through their blood connection. That in this way, Abaddon was punishing her as well as the weeping human.

  He’d promised himself at that moment that he would pay his father back. That he wouldn’t rest until he saw him suffering as much as he’d made her suffer. But he felt no satisfaction today.

  He turned and ducked into the opening, with Liz and the others following quickly behind. Claustrophobia set in almost immediately. She felt vulnerable, trapped, crawling on her hands and knees through a tunnel barely large enough for Alexei.

  “It seemed bigger when I was young.”

  “I don’t know why we couldn’t have gone up the stairs.”

  “Did you miss the Reader’s words? We are not alone. Better to take them by surprise than fall into a trap.”

  “Unless this is the trap.”

  “I thought I was the cynical half of this mating.”

  She stuck her tongue out toward his perfect, irritating ass, unable to stop the thrill of joy she got from making him laugh, even in a situation like this. She would have continued the banter, but something made her and the others freeze in the cramped tunnel. Barely discernible, even to her ears. A cry for help.

  “It’s Nicolette.” Sylvain’s whisper reached Liz just as the call came again, louder this time, from a panel just ahead.

  Midnight spoke over his shoulder. “You go on, straight and up until the tunnel splits and go left. If they’re where I think they are, the children should be in the small alcove behind the panel to Malcolm’s and my suite. I’ll get Nicolette.”

  “I’m going with you.” Liz had opened her mouth to say the words, but surprisingly, they’d come from Zander. “You shouldn’t have to go in alone.” He smiled at Liz. “Either of you.”

  Regina nodded at Liz, showing her agreement. She knew that her little Gypsy had a hand in the Mediator’s decision. If what she’d seen was correct, Midnight might have to face more than he bargained for to save Nicolette.

  “Sure, leave me with the women. It doesn’t affect my masculinity in the slightest.” Lux chuckled, but Liz knew he was worried about sending his brother down there alone.

  “I leave my child and grathita in your care, brother. I wouldn’t be able to do this otherwise.”

  Liz knew Midnight was listening to the Sariel brothers’ exchange intently. It made him think of Malcolm for a moment, before he pushed it aside to focus on the coming task.

  Midnight slid open the panel, and Liz looked over his shoulder. Another tunnel, this one descending sharply. It was one he didn’t remember. “But how is that possible? I lived in these tunnels as a child. I knew where all of them led.”

  She didn’t know. But a strange foreboding shuddered down her spine as the unmistakable scent wafted up the shaft. Shadow.

  “I smell it too. You should go with—”

  “The women? Don’t say it, Midnight. Don’t even think it.”

  “I forgot I bound myself to a modern female warrior.”

  “Don’t forget again.”

  “Yes, my love.”

  They had to turn themselves around, crawling in feet first and using the sides to stop them from crashing to the bottom. Her arms trembled, not just from the effort, but adrenaline. Midnight’s adrenaline. His emotions were in turmoil, the loudest and most powerful among them was anger. Anger at what had been done to him, to his family. The reasons didn’t matter at this moment. Only the scent of his enemy.

  “They’re here. Oh thank the Goddess, the three of them are scared. But safe. There are a few men with guns on the other side of the panel. I can read them. They won’t be there for long.”

  Liz heard Zander’s breath huff out in a small moan of relief that quickly changed to worry. They didn’t move for long moments, waiting to hear from Regina again.

  “We’re locked in Midnight’s room. Alexei isn’t very responsive, like he’s in some kind of trance, but Pax told me he is concentrating. That the danger isn’t over yet. Lux is looking him over, making sure he’s okay. Get Nicolette so we can take him home.”

  Liz closed her eyes. At least the children were safe. She had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time Alexei drove his parents sick with worry. That child was too powerfu
l for his own good.

  “Don’t worry, Lizbeth. I have a feeling he’ll be the best Mediator in our history. No one will dare naysay him.”

  “Maybe. Or he could become a master criminal. Only time will tell.”

  Midnight stopped before the end of the tunnel, studying the square of wood that was their exit. His body tensed, using his arms to gather momentum. Liz closed her eyes when the power of his boots splintered the panel into pieces.

  She followed him through, wishing she had Mal’s dagger. Even with her new Trueblood abilities, the damp limestone cavern filled ankle-deep with stagnant water made her nervous.

  “Help us! Please help us!” The plea was much louder now. Louder, and no longer Nicolette’s. She sounded terrified, and Liz took an instinctive step forward.

  “Wait, Lizbeth. Go slow. All is not as it seems.”

  Zander was the last to come out of the shaft, moving to stand beside Liz, looking around the cavernous sinkhole with disgust. The smell was nauseating. Shadow and rotting death all around. “This place is disgusting. Regina says she thinks the rest of the top floor is empty, but I won’t feel safe until my family is off Abaddon land completely.”

  Midnight spoke over his shoulder, his gaze intent on the darkness. “Tell her not to let her guard down. I know his security and blood servants haven’t all been accounted for yet. And be quiet. Our conversation is no longer private.”

  “Is someone there? I know you aren’t Shadow Wolf. There’s another woman with me, and she’s hurt. I killed one of his blood servants, but that…that monster will be back any minute.”

  The woman sounded frantic. Hopeful. They moved closer, stepping slowly over the dead body of the servant who had let them in. Liz flinched. A single ray of bluish moonlight came from a hole in the ground high above them and landed on two women huddled together on a large, smooth rock that sat like an island in a sea of filth.