“Just a little while ago. They were asking about the woman who disappeared six months ago. And, if you get this, they wanted to know about ‘X-files’ that are supposedly on my computer. Medical files with the numbers 666 on them. I never heard of them. I just expounded on how fantastic Sno-Med’s vision for research is and how I was finally getting to do what I was meant to do.”
“I see,” Cinatas replied. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated.”
Bryers’s grin seemed as if it would burst from his pasty skin. “So, how can I be of help to you today?”
Cinatas set a hand on Bryers’s shoulder, and Pathos thought the man was going to faint.
“You’ve done a tremendous amount already. When the research center is back in operation, I can tell you are going to be a great asset to the company. In the interim, what do you think about going to the Sno-Med center in Zaire? The Infectious Disease Department there is our most advanced. You would be able to see my true vision for research.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. You can leave soon, I hope?”
“Absolutely. When do you want me there? I’m anxious to get started.”
“You sound as if tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon for you. I’ll arrange my private jet and have my assistant contact you with the details. I’m sure you won’t prove to be a disappointment.”
Bryers blinked, his protruding eyes nearly popping from their sockets. “No. Not at all.”
They left Bryers and climbed inside the white limo that Pathos was indulging Cinatas in using. Though capable of crossing the spirit barrier, Cinatas was yet too weak from his ordeal to make multiple trips in a short period of time.
“Interesting exchange,” Pathos said. “Would you care to explain what it was all about?”
“It would seem a lesson needs to be taught. A man doesn’t deserve to live if he can’t control those who serve him. Unfortunately, Stefanie Batista is either dead or as good as dead if she is in the 666 study. We haven’t perfected the program as of yet.”
Pathos lifted a brow. “And?”
“It stems from my initial desire to refine the Vladarians’ need for Elan blood by increasing the richness of each individual supply. But if, as you say, the Vladarians will be expendable, there’s no need to improve their situation.”
Pathos smiled. “None whatsoever. Where are we going next?”
“To see a lab rat by the name of Rob Rankin.”
The Guardian Council had decreed that Aragon be executed. Since Sven had returned, a cloud of darkness had settled over his band of Blood Hunters and into the ranks of all the Shadowmen. Usually before there were questions or concerns about a decision, all waited for Logos to either approve or disapprove the verdict, and then, because Logos was the only reasonable and all-knowing being in existence, there were no more questions or concerns. But this time, heated discussions about the council’s decision and Aragon’s worthiness had erupted across the spirit world.
Some believed that the Guardian Council had gone too far by superseding Logos’s typical punishment for a warrior abandoning his post. Others agreed with the council that if even one among them had been willing to accept becoming a faded warrior, then the price hadn’t been high enough. Such an act was as treasonous as joining ranks with the Fallen Army, and should merit the same punishment. Some thought Aragon should be executed on sight and not even be given the respect of being brought before Logos and the council. Sven thought they were all wrong.
As news of Aragon’s fate spread, many Shadowmen had gravitated to the inner circles, and Sven had brought York and Navarre to the gathering. They were the only ones who could speak for Aragon and describe what had transpired, but many were not hearing the truth.
York was in the midst of an argument with another band of Blood Hunters, defending Aragon. Navarre had reached the point of silence. The ancient calmness that always guarded his actions and responses had evaporated from his demeanor like a mist beneath an angry sun. Sven could see that Navarre was seething beneath the surface and kept close to both of his brethren.
Never before had there been so much division within the forces.
And the burden of it all rested squarely on Sven’s shoulders. If he had followed through with his promise and executed Jared immediately after the Tsara had bitten him, none of this would be happening now. Aragon would still be leader, the Blood Hunters would be united, and the Shadowmen would be focused on battling Heldon rather than each other.
But then Jared would have been lost forever instead of attaining salvation for his soul.
Now, though, Aragon was doomed.
Sven stepped to York’s side as a powerful Shadowman from the Pyrathian Band of warriors, Sirius, joined the argument opposing York’s defense of Aragon. He spoke with the fire and conviction that enabled his kind to sway multitudes. “The council chose rightly. Aragon could have secretly longed to follow Pathos,” Sirius said. “Pathos was his mentor. We all know the bond that forms in training, so this quest to kill Pathos doesn’t ring true. We’ll next hear that Aragon has fallen to a Tsara and into the ranks of the damned.”
Sven clenched his hand, sure that York wouldn’t be able to stay his temper, and that wouldn’t be good. Pyrathians were shape-shifters who fought against those of Heldon’s Army bent on terminating mortals before Logos’s appointed time. All of the forces were in awe of the gift of life Logos had instilled within them. But when one of theirs fell to the Fallen Army, they became one of the most vile, a vampire who sucked the life from mortals, through blood or, worse, through spirit.
“How can you question Aragon’s service?” York’s spirit quivered with anger. “His every action has been for what he considered to be the best for the Guardian Forces. Though it was a mistake, he chose eternal punishment rather than to lead us wrongly, and rather than just fading to his fate, he’s determined to fight for Logos with every moment left to him by going after Pathos to eliminate the evil—not to join it. Would that we all be able to give such a testament!”
“Those too close to truth never see it,” Sirius replied. “You’re blinded, Blood Hunter.”
York lifted his fist. But Navarre set his hand on York’s shoulder, and York turned away from the Pyrathian, marching from the gathering.
Sven met Navarre’s gaze. “We’ve two new band members to train. I’ll meet you and York within the outer circles.” Navarre nodded and left. Sven turned to Sirius. “Only those who have seen and lived the truth can give testament to it. As I recollect, you were not present during the events. Had you been, I am sure the council would have called upon you to speak on the matter.”
Then Sven turned to face the gathered Shadowmen, all of whom had heard both his comments to the Pyrathian and York’s declaration about Aragon. Sven was angered by what was happening and burdened as well, for he’d been the one who’d set everything in motion. And he needed to be the one to bring everything back to rights, starting now.
“Brethren,” Sven shouted to the group at large, bringing a hush among the gathered ranks. “In a small way, we are all guilty of what the council wishes to punish Aragon for doing, by deciding our own truth and dividing the unity of our forces. Ultimately, Aragon’s heart and fate both rest within Logos’s hands, and thankfully not within our flawed and unreasonable minds.” He paused, then mustered his courage. “And I am more guilty than Aragon for failing in my duty. Were it not for my cowardice, he would still be leader amid the Blood Hunters, and I have informed the council of this. The difference between Aragon and me is that I failed to fulfill a promise to my brothers, whereas Aragon broke faith with the Guardian Forces and Logos.
“I’ve learned a grave lesson of what consequences follow when one does not act as promised, and as long as the council determines that I am fit enough to lead, I will atone for my mistake in every way that I can serve. Though what they are saying about Aragon is unquestionably false, even if it were true, then as always before our hearts should be united in sorrow at our loss
and not this bickering among us. And, no matter what your thoughts, Aragon gave a millennium of service to Logos. If he is found, he should be accorded the respect of standing before Logos for punishment. To continue these discussions will only stir dissension and lead to Heldon’s eventual victory. I have no time for such a defeat.”
Whipping around, Sven left the gathering. There were many who were superior in rank and years of service within the Guardian Forces present, men who had taken part in the divisive discussions, and Sven was sure they wouldn’t take well to his speech.
He found York and Navarre standing at the edges of the inner circle, having stopped to hear his speech. They clasped each of his hands and raised them in support and solidarity of cause, an action of unity that had been missing from their band since Jared had fallen to the Tsara. Yet even as he accepted the elation of their united moment, he knew despair waited, for whether Aragon became a faded warrior trapped in time or met his end before Logos and the council, Sven would carry the burden forever.
Before he could leave for the outer circles, a shout went up from the gathered Shadowmen, and they began leaving quickly.
Navarre stopped a fellow Blood Hunter from a different band. “Why the sudden exodus?”
“Aragon has entered the spirit realm. They seek to bring him to punishment. Your speech was true, Sven, but I don’t think it will sway Aragon’s fate. There is something ill brooding within the ranks of the Guardian Forces, and I fear Aragon will bear the brunt of it.”
Sven only nodded. He was too consumed by the need to go and find Aragon to even trust a slight response to the news. Navarre and York were just as tense as he. How could he lead his band through this impossible situation? They were all torn between their vows and the need to help Aragon.
Aragon slipped through the spirit barrier with a sense of elation and dread. That he still had the ability to enter the spirit world told him his punishment had yet to begin, for as a faded warrior he would be truly exiled. But once he started to fade, he would be banned from the mortal realm as well. He wouldn’t be able to destroy Pathos or return to Annette’s side.
He shifted to the forest where he’d thrown his sword in the midst of his bloodlust last night and collected his weapon. It had been just before Annette had brought him face to face with Pathos at the Sno-Med Center. He realized now that had he had his sword with him, he might have been able to fell Pathos immediately. But he hadn’t.
What had happened to him beneath the moon’s pull when he’d run in the forest hunting? What had driven his were-form to such a primal state? How had that changed after he’d saved Annette from Pathos? Had her presence lessened his rising bloodlust, or had the injuries he’d received weakened him, thus lessening his were-form’s strength?
And what else had happened to him from yesterday’s sun’s rising until now? He’d but one goal after facing his failure as a leader, and that had been to destroy Pathos. He’d accepted his eventual fate.
Now everything inside him cried out against it. He wanted more. And that more burned beneath his skin in a hunger for Annette. He clutched his amulet, still feeling the imprint of her touch upon it, still breathing in the sweetness of her scent, clinging to him as thoroughly as the memory of her spirit and their mating lingered in his mind. The very center of his being still resonated from the pleasure they had shared and the bond their spirits had forged. Her essence was wrapped around his soul.
He’d heard her call out to him, reach with her whole being for him, and he wanted nothing more than to turn back and bury himself within her arms again. But he had to force himself to go on. He had no forevers to promise, but he could find her sister if she was anywhere within the spirit or mortal realms, and he could stop Pathos from ever darkening Annette’s presence again. He had to. And he prayed to Logos that he had time to make those things happen, because if he failed, he might as well resign himself to the darkness of the damned. He’d spend eternity tortured anyway.
Gliding along the outer circles, he kept to the shadowed fringes as he raced silently toward the host of angels who governed the transformation of mortals into the spirit realm. He had just enough time to search for Stefanie before he went after Pathos. The angels were located within the inner circles in the eastern heavens. He waited until he was parallel to their domain before he cut from the shadows.
The moment he did, he caught the scents of an unusually varied number of bands from the Guardian Forces. He paused, sensing a high degree of tension in the air, almost as if his body had to fight for the space in which it occupied. He felt that were he to relax, or if his compulsion to drive forward were not so strong, the atmosphere would force him from the spirit realm.
Everything was different now. And the difference made him know that he no longer belonged amid the circles of the spirit world. It could have been the choice he had made to leave the Guardian Forces that had altered his existence. It could have been the bond he’d formed with Annette that made the change. Whatever the cause, he was now as much an intruder within the Guardians’ domain as someone from the damned, which meant he’d draw the attention of any warrior within the circle he traveled.
With no shadows to cloak his presence, he decided speed would be his greatest ally. So, abandoning caution, he flew toward the inner circles of the spirit realm, where the light grew brighter and brighter and the air warmer and warmer. Unworthy to wear his amulet where it belonged around his neck, he wrapped the chain around his hand and held the disk clutched in his fist.
When he reached the angels’ domain, he took one look at the blue aura of the presiding angel guarding the gateway to their circle and knew he was in trouble. She stood at arms, ready for battle, telling him that the entire realm was on alert, and he was most likely the cause.
Without speaking, he swung away.
“What within my gates would bring a faded warrior to the arms of his execution?” she called out; melodic grace and righteous glory rang in her voice, and struck a chord of real fear within him. Her winged spirit shimmered pearlescent white amid the blue orb, and silvery bells tinkled as she motioned him her way. He was reminded somewhat of the mortal woman with the emerald eyes.
Though he’d seen one or two angels in passing, he’d never spoken to one and found now that his voice nearly failed him. “I seek knowledge of a mortal’s passing into your realm. She is known as Stefanie Batista.”
“And the reason you seek such? It seems there would be things of greater import for one such as you.”
“My fate cannot be changed, but the success of my mission is worth any cost.”
“So you seek not to alter your fate, warrior, but only knowledge?”
“I am unworthy of both,” he said harshly, “but I seek your lenience in telling me what I came to learn.”
“The name Stefanie Batista did come to our attention, but a Pyrathian intervened. That is all I know. You will not make the journey to your fate without great loss, warrior,” she said, then slowly disappeared as she closed an invisible gate, leaving him with only her cryptic message of doom. What great loss? Surely she hadn’t meant anything would happen to Annette? He felt the sudden urge to get back immediately.
As he turned, he saw a band of Pyrathians from the Guardian Forces speeding toward him and knew they did not have a friendly greeting in mind.
He couldn’t afford to lose any time. He immediately spiraled down with dizzying speed and cut sharply toward the outer circles, praying the cloaking shadows on the edges of the spirit realm weren’t as far away as he remembered them. It was the only place in the heavens he could move unseen.
With their warriors’ cries reverberating through the air, the band came after him. Moments later another band, this time Blood Hunters, appeared to his left. He went right. With the added resistance of the atmosphere fighting his presence, Aragon wasn’t able to fly as swiftly as the forces after him. They were gaining on him by slow degrees.
Aragon still had enough of his Guardian awareness within
him that the amulet he clutched made the spirit connection to the other warriors’ minds. He could read their thoughts, and their slanderous ill will seemed to suck his heart directly beneath their trampling feet. His valued brethren thought he’d gone to the dark, believed his pursuit of Pathos was only a ruse so he could eventually join his old mentor in serving Heldon and the Fallen Army. Though it was true he could avoid becoming faded by becoming damned, Aragon had never even considered such a horrific act.
He could bring Pathos and place him upon an altar before his brethren, and it wouldn’t matter. He was now their enemy, just as much as Pathos. And only now did Aragon understand why. His betrayal in leaving the Guardian ranks had torn a hole in their faith in the brotherhood—and that hole had to be filled with something. They’d filled it with anger and disgust.
Had he known such a consequence would befall them, he would have never left as he had.
A band of three additional Blood Hunters loomed down from above him, and their presence in the chase cut Aragon to the core. Sven, York, and Navarre had joined the hunt against him. He turned again, and the change cost him. Within moments, the Pyrathians were upon him.
Chapter Fourteen
“T ALK ABOUT ROTTEN IN DENMARK,” Annette said as she cranked her BMW and backed down the broken pavement comprising Mrs. Bennett’s driveway. They’d come to question Abe Bennett, but were SOL. “I’m not buying this whole can’t-talk-to-Abe-directly-because-he’s-been-transferred-to-a-secret-location-to-do-some-medical-tests-for-the-government scenario. Abe is either in on Stefanie’s disappearance, or he’s a victim of foul play himself.”
“His mother believes it. So whoever is answering her e-mails must either be Abe or someone who knows him very well,” Erin said.
“She did say that he’s working so hard that he doesn’t e-mail often or much,” Annette pointed out.
The Lure of the Wolf Page 18