Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1

by Denise Tompkins

  “Remember, truth. What’s bugging you, Bay?”

  “I’m going to have to get us out of here, and I’ll need to phase, or change forms, to do it. We’re leaving your car because I’m concerned the killer will recognize it now that we’ve been here, and so has he…or, in fairness, she. What do you think about leaving via dragon flight?” He smiled but it was a half-hearted effort, and I could see the concern etched in the little lines beside his eyes and around his mouth.

  “I’ve seen the show, Bahlin. It’s fine.”

  “That’s what you think,” he muttered. “Let’s grab some stuff and get out of here.”

  “Where are we headed?” I asked, pushing up from the low, narrow sofa and heading into my room. I froze, groaning at my unintentional slip of the tongue. Bahlin snorted and rolled his eyes again.

  “Bad joke. And as to where we’re going, I would really rather not answer that, luv. Who knows who could be listening, right?” he called out from his own room.

  Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. An even better reason not to discuss the head until we were far away. Seemed like I ended up running from everywhere I ended up. What was that quote—everywhere you go there you are? I seemed to end up running, and I wasn’t sure it wasn’t, at least partially, from myself.

  We were on the rooftop deck less than fifteen minutes later. We’d combined a couple of changes of clothing each into one soft messenger-style bag and we stood, side by side, looking into the night as if we could foretell the dangers.

  “So what now?” I asked.

  “Goddess help me, you’re impatient. I’ve got to work up the nerve to scare the shit out of you. Do you mind?”

  “Alright, crank, get on with it.”

  “Brave fool,” he muttered. He pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it at me. “Put it, and the jeans, in the bag.” He was still barefoot, which seemed to be a personal preference, so no shoes to worry about. Besides, I didn’t think another set of size sixteens would fit in the bag. His feet were huge.

  He peeled his jeans off and I was more than a little thrilled and happily scandalized to realize he went commando. I shoved his clothes in the bag, trying unsuccessfully not to stare at him. He was gorgeous, and standing here in the night he seemed to rule it with confidence. Glancing at me one last time, his eyes flashed first, changing to that inhuman blue. He crouched down, hands and feet on the ground and the air began to shimmer around him. Bones and muscles began to move under his skin in an unnatural way, the sound thick and wet. He began to shape shift, his hands digging into the decking as if he were in pain. A tail jutted out from between his buttocks, making me gasp as it slithered along the ground behind him. He seemed to fold in on himself and then grow larger by leaps and bounds. His wings folded out from his shoulder blades as if they’d simply been hidden there all along, hiding. Stretching out from his shoulders, his neck elongated and I recognized the small, soft spikes that grew out from his spinal cord. With a dark, silent flash, his skin was suddenly scaled and the transformation was complete. I was stunned into immobility. His form took up the entire top deck, though he was dark enough I wasn’t entirely worried about being seen by the neighbors. He huffed out a breath, and I walked toward him with small, unsure steps.

  “Bay?” I asked quietly.

  He huffed again, and I knew he understood me.

  I laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. It was hard to reconcile the monster to the man, but I knew he was in there. I rubbed his shoulder in small circles, as much to comfort myself as anything.

  “How do you want to do this?” I asked.

  He pushed up with his front legs so he was squatting and, reaching down with his forearms, he scooped me up and held me close to his body. He turned his head to the side to eye me carefully and I nodded, not quite trusting my voice. Bahlin sighed deeply.

  The night air seemed to grow denser around us and I realized that images were not quite so clear. It was like trying to look through dark smoke. I began to struggle to get down but he only held me tighter. With a giant push from his hind legs and a cracking sound behind us, he launched us up into the night sky, unfurling his wings so they propelled us away.

  Every muscle in my body vibrated in fear at being carried this way. One small fumble on his part, and I’d be free-falling to the ground below. As the sights of everyday life grew smaller and smaller, I became more and more frightened, scared to move even the slightest for fear of distracting my dragon.

  We flew for at least an hour before I realize that the stars were clear again and the haze we’d left London in was gone. Shivering less than on my original flight, I was grateful for the jacket I was wearing and for being tucked up close to Bahlin’s warm body.

  I smelled the ocean before I saw it. It was fresh and crisp, and the pounding of the surf was interrupted only by the flap of Bahlin’s wings and the occasional puffing of his breath. Taking in a great lungful of air and holding me tighter, Bahlin trumpeted in a joyful voice, spinning once as we hurtled toward the ground. I squeezed my eyes shut and began contemplating anew my miserable mortality among the immortal, or nearly immortal, monsters. The air dampened as we got closer to the ground. Rocky, uninhabited cliffs formed through the fog. Bahlin set down gently, with a great backwash of air from his wings, and set me on my feet so he could balance on all four legs. He stared at me quietly, breathing deep lungs full of the fresh air and then he bellied to the ground again, nudging me toward his back.

  “You want me to get on again? Are you insane? I’m too damned glad to be on solid ground again.” Skepticism laced every word.

  He hummed in response and butted me none too gently toward his shoulder with his forehead.

  “Pushy bastard,” I muttered, but I did as he wordlessly asked and clambered onto his back, once again sitting just in front of his wings.

  I wrapped my arms as far around his neck as they would go and held on tight, unsure what to expect. Nothing could have prepared me for Bahlin launching us over the edge of the cliffs. We were in free-fall for a moment before he flapped his wings hard and veered off to the left, taking us nearer the cliff face than I was comfortable. I shouted in alarm and I could feel him rumble between my legs, though I wouldn’t have bet my own money on whether he was bemoaning my lack of courage or laughing at me.

  Suddenly we were cloaked in the heavy, smoky miasma of London again and Bahlin flew straight at the cliff, pulling up short of the rocks. Reaching out with his forearms he pulled us to the cliff face and began climbing diagonally across the rocks toward a black fissure that I hadn’t seen before. He scrambled like a goat, sure-footed and quick, his claws securing footholds in the shale. We were through the cave’s opening in a moment. Bahlin scrambled further and further into the tunnel, the light disappearing behind us. The cave was completely devoid of any light, and my eyes strained to pick out even the smallest details in the encroaching darkness. Bahlin took a deep breath, and the void was split by a burst of flame emanating from my lover’s mouth. Shocked, I gasped and sat up, cracking my head against the cave’s ceiling. The bright bursts of color the flame had burned into my corneas were all I could see. When it finally receded I realized he’d been lighting torches along the wall. Very barbarian chic, I suppose.

  Bahlin turned and nosed me to the ground. The messenger bag slid from my aching shoulders, and I stumbled when I touched the floor before getting my feet under me. With a shimmer of air, his dragon form seemed to rend itself in half and the man emerged, gloriously naked. He knelt on the floor, limbs trembling slightly, hair dampened with sweat, obviously exhausted.

  “You alright, pet?” he asked, his voice rough.

  “Sure. You?”

  “Truth? I’m completely knackered. Cloaking is one of my skills, but it wears me thin to extend it to another creature and to carry that creature for so long in my arms when I’ve not eaten properly. It’s not so bad when you ride.”

  “Where are we?” I asked, looking around him and into the room beyond. Th
e cavern wasn’t huge, but there were visible natural tunnels leading away from that main room that gave the impression of extended size and depth. The sound of trickling water indicated a small underground stream somewhere nearby.

  “This is what’s referred to in mythology as a dragon’s den, or lair. All dragons of a certain rank have them. It’s our most closely guarded secret. You’re the first person I’ve brought here since Aloysius.” He looked around for the bag I’d dropped when I stumbled from his back.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting dressed. I was under the impression that your sensibilities preferred me with clothes.” He ran his hands through his hair, arching his back, his eyes never leaving my face. He was beautiful in the firelight, like a gilded Renaissance nude, and I wanted to reach out and touch him.

  “Go ahead,” I said huskily.

  “Go ahead and what?” he whispered.

  “Clothes would be a good thing. No need to reaffirm life for Maddox’s death.”

  Bahlin laughed and bent to dig through the bag, pulling out a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved charcoal shirt. After slipping into the clothes he stuffed his feet into sneakers, impressing me.

  “Not going barefoot?”

  “Even my feet get torn up on this rock when I’m in human form,” he answered. “Come inside and we’ll have a seat.”

  We walked further into the cavern, and I realized there were what I considered basic necessities. There was a sofa and several chairs, a bed in one corner, and a number of weapons—swords, knives and handguns. The room was not large itself. In truth, it would have been nearly impossible for Bahlin to enter in his dragon form and do much more than turn around.

  He walked to a small larder and pulled out a round of cheese and some bread, and a large packet of what looked like beef jerky.

  “I need to eat again,” he said. “It takes a lot out of me to change because my form is so large, so I have to eat regularly and protein’s a must.”

  He gestured me over to one of the chairs, and I sat. He pulled a small knife out and carved a piece of cheese off the wheel for me and then gave me a chunk of bread. We ate in companionable silence.

  When we were done, and Bahlin was only snacking on the jerky, he said, “I suppose we’d better talk about the head.”

  I looked at Bahlin and took a deep breath. “I think I know who did it.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bahlin choked a bit and looked up at me, surprised. “Go on, then. Tell me what you’ve got.”

  “I’m going to be an adult about this and call it, him, Maddox.” I shuddered. Sure I was. “He’s been missing for four days. We know that the only ones to know the case specifics were the High Council and the king and queen of the fae. Right?”

  Bahlin nodded, crossing his feet at the ankles, one hand behind his head. He looked relaxed but his entire attention was focused on me.

  I held up my pointer finger. “First is Sarenia. She wasn’t at the meeting, so she didn’t have specifics of the crime. As an Atlantean, Sarenia wouldn’t have had a reason to hire Maddox, assuming he was the killer’s proxy. She could have dragged me down to her sunken city and simply drowned me. No need to hire a shooter. She’s also over eleven thousand years old, as much as it boggles the mind. She’s had plenty of time to come up with better ways to commit murder than the obvious. Finally, I don’t believe she would have had her only child murdered, not for power, not for anything.”

  Bahlin’s face went slack, and he looked confused. “Meyla is dead?”

  I nodded, not considering he might have known her. Way to go, Niteclif. Nothing shows compassion like blurting out, “Hey your buddy’s dead.” I shook my head and opened my mouth to apologize—again.

  “No. Go on.”

  I hesitated, my mouth opening and closing like a guppy’s. “You’re sure?”

  His answer was absolute silence and a hard stare that made me feel guilty.

  “Right.” I cleared my throat and held up a second finger. “Imeena is a vampire. They are highly attracted to faerie blood, so she wouldn’t have wasted any of it if she’d killed Maddox. She would have ripped his throat out, yes, but she wouldn’t have discarded such a treat. Nor would she have left Maddox in the fridge. As a vampire she’s capable and willing of killing on her own without a proxy. She has all the tools she needs to kill me without hiring someone to shoot me.” Remembering her canines, I shuddered. “And she would have had access to me at night, when she could have really reached out to touch me, as a High Council member. Hell, she’s my employer. I would have come to her whenever she called. And I can’t reconcile her motive to kill these creatures.” I paused to catch my breath.

  Bahlin’s eyes narrowed and he had developed a tic in his jaw. “Go on, luv, you’re obviously on to something.”

  Third finger. “The king and queen of the fae may have asked Maddox to kill me. But if they’d had Maddox kill me it would have been an act of loyalty. He wouldn’t have run. He’s been with them for generations and was considered a member of the family. They wouldn’t have killed him but instead would have hidden him away from the Council’s reach inside the sithen. It would have been easy since the Council has to be granted access to enter. Say no and no one gets inside, so hide him there and he’s out of harm’s way. The only thing I can’t figure is where Tarrek’s disappearance fits in for them.

  “Tarrek was abducted, so he couldn’t have done it.” I didn’t even hold up a finger for this one. I glared at Bahlin, daring him to argue with me.

  “If you’re sure. But what about me?” he challenged me, forcing me to look closely at another suspect I didn’t want to consider.

  “I’m sure. You didn’t do it either.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve had too many opportunities to kill me. And when you had the family tree in your hands, the date of death didn’t appear. From what I understand, if you were the killer and your intent was to off me, the date of death would have shown up. Right?”

  “Depending on the probability of success, yes.” He leaned forward, sensing the rising tension in my voice. “So who did it?”

  “Who’s left?” I whispered.

  Bahlin took a deep breath, held it, then let it out on a long sigh. “Gretta and Hellion.”

  “Gretta’s dead. I killed her,” I said softly, my pulse so hard in my throat I was sure Bahlin could see it jumping beneath my skin. “I killed her,” I repeated, “after Hellion ordered her to kill me. They were mates, and she was never supposed to die, Bahlin. He didn’t intend for it to happen. But Maddox had failed them. Remember, Gretta came after me with a sword, but it was too large for her to handle properly. She would have killed me if she’d been able to heft it over her head like she tried to do. But she couldn’t, and I stabbed her with the dirk when the sword fell behind her head and shoulders.” I closed my eyes momentarily and swallowed the bile that threatened. “Hellion now had an open reason to come after me, as well as a scapegoat for his crimes. He could kill me while claiming to avenge the murder of his mate and blame Gretta for killing the other beings, at least until he found a way to continue his efforts.

  “And if together we figured out he killed Maddox and took his head, then it was all well and good because Maddox had been issued a death warrant by me just before we met. The king decreed it after Maddox was sentenced.”

  Bahlin pushed himself up off the couch and stretched, my hormonal body, mind, and spirit admiring and coveting his body as he did. Hands locked behind his head, he walked to the pantry and retrieved two bottles of water before returning to sink down on the couch. He cracked the lid off his drink and tilted it toward me in salute. “How do you know for sure Hellion killed Maddox?”

  “The sword marks on Maddox’s neck. The sword skidded off his chin with enough force to continue along the jaw and sever the head all the way to the spine. The spinal column was cut through surgically, ensuring that there were no bone pieces or meaty bits to get stuck to the killer’s c
lothes or hands. It was very clean. That has to take strength and skill with a blade. Next to you, Hellion is the largest, and likely strongest, man on the Council. Gretta couldn’t wield the sword against me. She didn’t have the strength to cut Maddox’s head off that cleanly, even if he held still and showed her where to swing and strike. That means it was a larger person’s sword, and if Hellion sent her to kill me, it’s only logical deduction that he’s our killer.”

  “So Hellion is killing the other creatures?” Bahlin asked, his eyes sparking in the flames of the torches lit about the room.

  “Yes, he is.” I didn’t want to say this. Not out loud. Because once I said it, it was real. And another man was going to be sentenced to death, though I thought he likely deserved it. But I was afraid that the man across from me would be the one to dole the sentence out, and I didn’t want to put him in harm’s way. But I didn’t know what else to do. He’d reached the conclusion with me. It was too late to stop justice’s forward momentum.

  “Why, Maddy? Why is Hellion doing this?” he pressed, forcing me to say out loud what I had suspected of the killer since Gretta had come to my room to try to poison me then stab me.

  “He’s stealing the strongest pieces of each immortal creature so he can morph them into himself. He wants to be immortal.”

  Bahlin surged to his feet, pacing the small room. He seemed more raw here in the cave, more animalistic. “So that’s why you don’t think Tarrek is doing it? Because he’s immortal?”

  “At the least you said he’d live for thousands of years, Bahlin. Possibly thousands upon thousands. What good is immortality if you already nearly have it? And power? He’s got it in spades.” I reached out and grabbed Bahlin’s arm as he stormed passed me for the fourth time. “I didn’t realize it until I met his parents and fully understood that he’s fae royalty. He will eventually command the light and dark sides of faerie. He can make his own magic in the sithen, really. What more does he need with others’ magic?”

  Bahlin sank back into the sofa, resting his head in his hands. “Finish the thought, Maddy. Tell me why Hellion wants the collective power of the creatures he’s killed.”