Legacy: The Niteclif Evolutions, Book 1

by Denise Tompkins

  Jaw clenched to keep from gaping, I nodded.

  “Good. Then let’s discuss your first case. But Maddy?”

  I sat staring at him. A real Norse god. Huh. “Yeah?”

  “Put some clothes on.”

  I came out of the bathroom after grabbing a quick shower. He was immortal. He could wait. My hair was still wet, and I continued to dry it off with a hand towel as I sat across the table from my infinitely great-grandfather, Tyr. I smiled slightly at the thought that I trumped Tarrek’s royalty with my own deity.

  “I know what you know so far, so ask away,” he said, forgoing niceties in lieu of directness. I could play that way, especially as raw as I was over Bahlin.

  “Why a Norse god instead of a Celt?” I asked, meeting his eyes with unspoken challenge, daring him to lie to me.

  “The Celts are descended from the Norse. Their gods are the infants of ours.”

  “Oh. Why can’t I leave England?”

  “You can, but only to move about the British Isles.”

  That explained why I ended up coming back here on the Hitchcock flight. What a waste of money. Hopefully my Niteclif salary kicked in soon.

  “What happens at the end of my ten years?” I asked.

  “You’ll serve twelve years given the nature and timing of the Change.” He held up a hand when I started to argue, stopping me before I could even get a good, deep breath. “It’s unchangeable, so bear it with grace.

  “You must see through the veil that most humans do not, recognizing that the paranormal and the mythological walk among your kind on the same plane of existence. The purpose of the Niteclif’s evolution is to lift the veil for one person—you—and render justice for the veil’s other side.”

  Tyr paused, almost as if unsure how to go on. I rolled my hand at him, indicating he should just continue. He sighed, clearly annoyed with my impatience. “You must keep one foot on either side of the veil without falling victim to the gray in between. Should you fail, you will lose yourself at the end of your time and you will become a fictional character whose exploits and adventures are immortalized in literature. You will physically cease to exist.”

  I gasped and a small, panicked giggle broke free. Tyr arched an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head and motioned him on again.

  “In truth, this is what happened to Aloysius though it is not common knowledge. Even Bahlin is unaware. He lived his life well, but was absorbed by the mythological element of his existence. We wrote him a happy ending. One of our kind remembered him on paper out of respect. The same fate awaits you should you fail. Your author has been preordained. The end of your time of service will not be discussed yet, so do not ask me the outcome.”

  I sat there, feeling almost anesthetized with shock. If I failed, I would essentially die but be immortalized on paper for my efforts, like a consolation prize. If I died literally, as in fell victim to death by murder, I’d just be dead. The options for survival were down to one: I couldn’t fail. Anxiety gripped my chest like an iron band, and I struggled for a moment to catch my breath.

  Typical me, I coped by avoidance as I thought about my next question. I couldn’t ask if Bahlin loved me, but I could ask questions surrounding that. “Is it within the rules to ask what Bahlin is to me?”

  Tyr’s eyes lit up as he realized what I was doing. He stared at me as he formulated his answer. “It is. Bahlin will be your physical familiar.”

  I just arched an eyebrow and looked at him. He wasn’t amused at the turnabout.

  Answering my unasked question he said, “No, you are not a witch. But he will serve much the same purpose, offering sincere support, knowledge, protection, affection and advice. Use him well.” Tyr paused before continuing, leaning forward slightly and cocking his head to the side as if deciding how much to tell me. “Forgive him.” Thunder rumbled within the room, and Tyr smiled.

  Ignoring the last of his answer I asked, “Why am I accepting this is true and not checking myself in for lithium treatments?” I was scared of the answer, but I needed to know.

  Tyr looked at me pointedly and said, “One of your gifts is that you are able to accept what is irrefutable fact, Madeleine, and discern fact from falsehood with logical methodology. What does not fall to logic must be analyzed and appropriate risks taken. Think on it and do not avoid out of anger what I am trying to tell you.”

  “Just call me Maddy, please. This whole Madeleine thing is pissing me off,” I grumped. I thought about what Tyr said. If I could accept what I saw when I detected the truth, then I should be able to tell whether or not Bahlin was sincere when he said he loved me. It was worth thinking on, but it would have to be later. First things first. I needed to find and rescue Tarrek.

  “Do you know where Tarrek is, Tyr?”

  “Yes, but you have to deduce the location and get there yourself.”

  “Was it Tarrek in my earlier dream?” I asked, looking up at Tyr through my lashes. I was growing uncomfortable under his direct, unblinking stare, self-conscious of the fact that I was stumbling about without Bahlin’s guidance, and frustrated I’d not made it any farther in the case than I had.

  “Tarrek did come to you in a dream, yes. Look at the clues you have in front of you and tell me what you know for sure.”

  “I suppose that’s as good a place to start as any.” I leaned the chair back on two legs and rocked backward and forward, my fingers nervously tapping out a rhythm on the tabletop.

  Tyr reached over and firmly put his hand over mine. “Relax.”

  “Sure.” I slammed the chair forward and leaned my elbows on the table, fingers laced together tight enough to pull the skin against my knuckles and turn them white. “The murderer is collecting supernatural creatures. This means that the killer is not immortal because otherwise he, or she, wouldn’t have a need for the stolen powers. Right?”

  Tyr cocked his head to one side, thinking. He said, “What if the killer just wants the powers the other supernatural creatures possess, and it’s not immortality he, or she, is after?”

  Possible, I thought. “Why kill them?”

  “That’s for you to discern, Maddy.”

  “Okay. Let me put all my cards down. The killer wants the supes’ powers. To get them, he, or she, has to kill to obtain them. The killer is compiling these powers in order to take over the High Council and make himself the ultimate leader. How am I doing?” I asked, chewing on my bottom lip.

  “Go on,” he said without answering.

  “Tarrek has been taken for his ability to generate magic with few restrictions. I believe that the cú sith was taken for its ability to smell the truth, which any person in power would value. The far darrig was taken for his ability to generate luck at will, making the killer hard to stop in any given situation. The sprite was killed for her divination skills, making the killer nearly omnipotent if the Sight can be controlled and directed. The killer needs immortality, so he’ll have to obtain a true immortal. A vampire heart would be the easiest unless, of course, the killer is already immortal. He’ll also need a strong body, his or another’s, to get him through the metamorphosis into this new super-creature. And he wants Bahlin’s Dragon’s Stone in order to obtain immeasurable wisdom and…something. But what?” I paused in the act of picking at my nails, looking up at the god.

  “You’re on the right track, Maddy,” Tyr said. “Does Bahlin pose a threat to the killer?”

  “Well, sure. First and foremost is the damned prediction. If it’s true, he’s going to become the head of the High Council. That’s a threat to anyone else interested in power.” I harrumphed at the thought, my shoulders hunching at the unbidden memories of what Bahlin had done to secure his power base. I mentally shied away from those intimate memories, instead focusing on the here and now. “Bahlin is also a super strong shape-shifter who can kick nine kinds of ass when he needs to, I’m sure. After all, dragons fight for fun of all things…” I froze, looking up and meeting Tyr’s eyes. “The killer wants Bahlin’s body
as his vessel as well as his stone. It’s easier if he doesn’t have to remove the stone from Bahlin’s brain and risk damaging it. Instead, he just absconds with the whole package. That’s it, isn’t it? And dragons fight with each other over their treasures. So if Bahlin’s stone gives the killer the ability to learn the location of all the different lairs he’s breached, the killer stands to inherit immeasurable wealth.” I put my head in my hands and tried unsuccessfully to contain the trembling of my fine muscles.

  “I believe you’re right, child. Bahlin’s in more danger than he realizes, and the fact that the two of you have broken with each other puts him at greater risk as he’s vulnerable right now.” Thunder boomed and Tyr hunched his shoulders. “Damnable Odin,” he muttered. “Fine. Repeat what I just said to you.”

  I did.

  “Yes,” Tyr muttered, eyes glinting in triumph at having worked around the elder god’s directive. “That’s absolutely correct.”

  “I’ve got to get to him,” I muttered, standing up and tipping the chair over in my haste to get to my shoes. Then I remembered I was asleep. “Tyr?”

  “Yes, Maddy?”

  “Is he at the Pemberton?”

  “Yes, Maddy.”

  Thanks, I thought, and Tyr smiled.

  I woke with a start, still cocooned under the covers. I flipped them back, breathing in a rush of very cold air-conditioned air. I reached over and grabbed my clothes and my shoes, sitting up and slipping into everything. Picking up the phone, I dialed the operator and asked to be connected to the Pemberton.

  “Thank you for calling the Pemberton. How may I direct your call?” came the front desk voice.

  “I need to speak to Bahlin. It’s an emergency.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. There’s no one here by that name,” was the cautious reply. The guy was a horrible liar.

  “Put Bahlin on the phone. It’s Maddy Niteclif.” I felt bad but I didn’t have time for polite coercion. I need Bahlin five minutes ago.

  There was a click and then a beeping.

  “Hullo,” came the flat greeting on the other end.

  “Bahlin?” I asked, not sure I had the right person so despondent was this voice.

  “Maddy?” was the cautious reply.

  “Yeah. Look, I don’t have time to explain but—”

  “You had a dream visitor, I assume.”

  “How’d you know, Bahlin?” I asked, confused.

  “Because Aloysius was scared shitless when Tyr visited him the first time, too, and we talked it through. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but when I can see you, Maddy. You can’t just shut me out.” Bahlin’s voice was hoarse and choked with emotion. I hardened myself and refused to think about it.

  “I need you to come get me at the Hardley on Old Queen Street—”

  “I’ll be there within fifteen minutes,” he said.

  “Bring me some clean clothes,” I yelled into the phone. But it was useless. He was already gone.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I grabbed my purse and headed down to the lobby to wait for Bahlin. True to his word, he was there within fifteen minutes. I didn’t give him a chance to get out of the car, instead knocking on the passenger window so he unlocked the door. I let myself in and buckled my seatbelt.

  “Where to?” he asked quietly. He looked haggard, with circles under his eyes, rumpled clothes and an unshaved face. I hadn’t imagined him as suffering with my absence. A small, sick part of me was relieved he was hurting too. Petty, but honest.

  “I need to get some things from the hotel—” I began, but he interrupted me. Apparently we’d regressed to that point.

  “I brought you a small suitcase of things, including your bathroom stuff. You left in such a rush before that I wasn’t sure what you’d need…or want.” The double entendre was so clear it rang in the air like a crystal bell—fragile, distinct, breakable.

  I shrugged, uncomfortable with this part of a conversation I knew we’d have to have. What did I tell him? That he was my familiar and there was no choice in the matter for him? Did I just ignore that part of things? I was blushing again, damn it. What was it about Bahlin?

  “Let’s head north,” I muttered. “I kind of know where Tarrek is.”

  Bahlin sputtered, wrenching around to look at me, pulling over to the curb roughly and stalling his car. He ignored the honks of irritated drivers and just gaped at me. “Well why didn’t you say so? For the love, woman, you’re killing me.” He cranked the key so hard I thought he’d break it off in the ignition and the little car started up, shooting back into the heavy London traffic.

  “I’m…” he and I both said at the same time. “Go ahead,” we both said again. He laughed uncomfortably, and I shrugged.

  I held up my hand to indicate I was going to speak and said, “First, you need to stop acting like my father, Bahlin. I don’t need to be chastised. I need a partner. Second, Tarrek’s in Scotland somewhere near Castle Duncan. He came to me in a dream walk and said he was there. He looked bad, so I’m not sure what’s been done to him. He said I had until the next full moon to get to him or all was lost.” I leaned over and looked up at the sky, the three-quarter-plus moon filling the sky.

  “I’m sorry for being overbearing. It’s just been…tough since you left.”

  “Understood.”

  “Imeena is gone,” Bahlin said softly, looking over his shoulder to change lanes.

  I whipped my head around to look at Bahlin. “What do you mean the vampire’s gone? Gone how? Vacation gone, or disappeared gone?”

  “She’s gone missing, Maddy. Her kiss called the High Council to request assistance in locating her. They claim she’d been acting strangely since returning from the last Council meeting. When she failed to show up to her kiss’s regular meeting, her compatriots called in for help. They fear she may have gone rogue.”

  I thought about a rogue vampire on the loose in London. The thought wasn’t a pretty one. I thought back over my conversation with Tyr, and the idea that a vampire heart would be the easiest means to immortality unless the vampire was the killer. I shared this conversation with Bahlin and he nodded, agreeing that it made sense but equally as lost as I regarding guilt and innocence.

  But something didn’t set right with me and I said so. “I just don’t see her as the killer, Bahlin. She’s powerful, she has her gaze available to influence others, she has access to Seers, she’s already immortal. True, she’s not magical and she doesn’t have immeasurable power, but she just didn’t seem the type to go nuts.”

  Shaking his head Bahlin said, “Maddy, she’s a master vampire and over a thousand years old. She’s lived a long time. Life gets old like that, especially when you’ve lost your mate. Her partner was killed about a hundred years ago, and she’s not been the same since.” He swallowed hard and finished the thought. “It broke her heart.”

  Man, could I relate. And I hadn’t had hundreds of years with Bahlin. In reality, I’d had less than even a hundred waking hours as his lover and companion, and his perceived betrayal had crushed me. Tyr’s endorsement of Bahlin had been great, but it wasn’t his heart on the line. It wasn’t his soul he was putting out there to be flayed if it all went badly. It wasn’t his reality that would end if I failed somehow. So he’d simply have to understand if I was less than enthusiastic about the thought of immediate reconciliation with Bahlin.

  We drove north for three hours, rarely speaking, the tension level so high it made the air feel thick in my chest as I breathed. Bahlin suggested we stop for the night when we reached Manchester. I was exhausted despite my earlier nap and jumped on the idea of getting out of the car both to sleep in a real bed as well as alleviate the uncomfortable intimacy of traveling cocooned in a car.

  We pulled up to the Maissonette, a rather tony looking place I wasn’t sure I could afford. Bahlin told me to wait in the car and, considering my rumpled state, I thought it was best. He was in and out of the lobby within five minutes and was sporting one room key. Imm
ediately I was indignant.

  “Now look here, Bahlin,” I began, unbuckling my seatbelt and shifting up on one hip to face him. “You can’t seriously think I’m going to share a room with you.”

  “Maddy, we agreed only three days ago that we were better off sticking together until this was all sorted out. Since then things have gotten, well, hairy. Let’s just get to the room and discuss it there.” His eyes pleaded with me not to fight with him, and his stiff shoulders told me he expected just that.

  “Fine,” I whispered, and his shoulders sagged with visible relief.

  He parked the car and we got out to retrieve our bags. Bumping shoulders made my stomach clench and my heart contract as we both reached into the boot of the car. I stepped back and Bahlin handed me my bag, clearly as disturbed as I was at the accidental contact.

  Taking my bag from him without touching his hand I said, “I don’t want you to touch me, Bahlin. I’m not negotiating with you as a dragon, Bay. I’m telling you as the Niteclif to keep your freaking hands to yourself.”

  His gaze dropped, frustration reading clearly in them before he could school his face. “Fine. Anything else?”

  Realizing he’d packed for me I started to get worked up all over again. How had he known he’d need a suitcase? Had he expected me to take him back with open arms? Arrogant sod, I thought, using one of my favorite new English words. I turned and stomped off toward the elevator, hoping like hell we were on anything but the first floor.

  We rode the elevator in silence to the seventh floor, and Bahlin walked to the end of the hallway. He opened the door to a large suite and I did my best not to gawk. It was a lovers’ suite, with a sunken tub in the middle of the floor, bold, rich colors on every surface and a huge bed set to take advantage of the city skyline.