Titanium (Amber trilogy Book 2)

by Hati Bell

  Matteo sat on a chair and stared outside. “Thank you.”

  “Let me guess: you don’t want to talk about it?”

  “You guessed correctly.”

  She drank her smoothie and put the glass into the dishwasher. “See, this is what I don’t understand. You keep telling me you will protect me since we are promesis, but to me it seems a one-way street. This means that either you don’t see me as an equal or you have a peachy life, without a worry in the world. We both know it’s not the latter.” Since he didn’t react, she continued with her breakfast, heating up bagels and getting cream cheese from the fridge.

  “It is my fault,” he said softly.

  She walked back and sat on a chair across him. “What is?”

  He took his phone out of his pocket and placed it onto the table. “Franco. I am the one who suggested him as promesi material for Faey. He is the reason my father hates me. Well, one of the reasons.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Anyway, Franco was my best friend. We were both born during Justinian the Great.”

  “And that’s important because…?”

  “I know Benedict has explained the birth cycles of phoenixes.”

  She nodded. “Phoenix woman can get pregnant only every fifty years or so.”

  “Some, if not most, once every century,” Matteo continued. “This means that, unlike inferi, a phoenix child grows up with only a few peers. The birth of twins is celebrated by us because a phoenix mother then knows her child will have someone to play with, to grow up with. Someone born in the same age, under the same ruler. This makes a lifelong connection. I had that connection with Franco. He was my best friend. His father is a general of Crassus. He was the perfect candidate to become Faey’s promesi. Of course, Faey was not even born yet, but promesi bonds are arranged centuries in advance. My brother hesitated, but I assured him Franco would be the ultimate protector for our sister. My brother convinced my father, and since my father has never been able to refuse him anything, Franco became Faey’s promesi.”

  Amber walked back to the toaster, got the bagels out, and put them on a plate. “What made your brother doubt Franco in the first place?”

  “He believed Franco was too traditional. That his loyalties lay with his family first, instead of with his promesi.”

  She put some cheese on a bagel and passed it to him. “But you told me that a promesi trumps every other loyalty.”

  “As it should,” he claimed. “I cannot be punished for helping you, for example. Even if you killed someone, no one could force me to testify against you.”

  “Just like how, in a human court, spouses can’t be forced to testify against one another,” she mused.

  “Exactly.” He picked up a bagel and started munching on it.

  “So, what went wrong?”

  “What went wrong is that Faey is not the type who shares her promesi with other women. Franco did not plan to change for Faey, or any other woman for that matter. However, the only way he could get rid of her legally, and without causing a war between the families, would be if Faey was convicted of a crime. You can break a promesi bond the second someone is found guilty of any charge.”

  “So when Faey got sentenced for an Eternity, Franco saw an out,” she finished the story.

  Matteo nodded. “Unfortunately, he broke their bond only after Faey had chosen an Eternity instead of staying in the catacombs for a century.”

  She frowned. “Does it make a difference?”

  “Yes, a lot,” Matteo growled, rage filling his eyes. “The only one allowed to fight by her side against the Romanovs is her promesi. Any other phoenix who dares to lift a finger to help her would be severely punished.”

  The bagel suddenly tasted like ash. “Shit. Does this mean I’m on the Romanov’s list now as well?”

  “No. You’re a half-blood,” he said in a tone as if it explained everything.

  “Yeah, so…?”

  “According to our laws, you are still half inferi. You are not considered a serious threat to the Romanovs. They could easily take you out.”

  That was a relief… and insulting at the same time. “Who would have thought I would ever be grateful to be considered inferior?”

  He gave her a pleading look. “For the passed nineteen years I have watched my sister die over and over again. The first time I was stupid enough to stand by her side, defying our laws. I killed Vasily Romanov. In retaliation my entire inferi staff was killed. I got a huge fine that nearly bankrupted me. I almost lost everything. The Ming vase my brother had brought after one of his conquests, the mask of Agamemnon, and many more trophies he had collected through the centuries.” He fell silent for a moment. “Soon my brother will be released from the Catacombs and I will have to tell him that I lost his life’s work. Just as I have to tell him that I was not able to protect our baby sister, Faey.”

  Her heart broke for him when suddenly so many things made sense. “Faey chose an Eternity for a punishment, believing Franco would stand by her side.”

  “She truly believed he would save her not thinking for a second she would die a hundred deaths.”

  In the past few months she had formed several possible doom scenarios about Faey in her head. Usually reality was far less bad than imagination, but sadly not in this case. “Have you tried to find her a new promesi?”

  He snorted. “She is being avoided like the plague. No phoenix will want to burn his hands on her—that is, until she has served her sentence. Then they will be all over her again, considering her connections. But right now, no one will willingly want to take on the Romanovs.”

  Understandably so. Amber could live just fine as well never having to see Vasily again. “So… she has another eighty-one years to go?”

  “I hope so.”

  “You hope so?”

  “Faey was only seventeen when she was sentenced. The fire inside her did not get to age and become strong. If she is extinguished often enough, eventually she might…”

  He didn’t finish his sentence, and she was grateful for that. She didn’t even want to contemplate what it would mean if that happened.

  ***

  Amber internally braced herself as she rang the bell at the iron gates of the Dome. She hadn’t ever voluntarily stepped foot on Alec Kincaid’s domain before. It was unheard-of for a dryad to show up here without an invitation, which would be a rare occasion in itself. The first and last time she’d been inside the Dome was over a year ago. Logan had been accused of the murder of Nurse Croft. Her heart ached for the gentle nurse who had supported her for years back when she suffered from migraine attacks. She had become an innocent victim in Alec Kincaid’s campaign to isolate Drake from his friends and family. It was through Nurse Croft that Kincaid had discovered that Amber was a phoenix, before she had even known herself. He’d had the nurse killed to silence her and tried to pin the murder on Logan, so he could effectively be rid of him.

  The door was opened by a woman wearing an apron and holding a feather duster. Amber was just about to introduce herself when the last person she wanted to see turned the corner. With his shoulder-length black strands of hair and green eyes, Alec Kincaid looked like an older version of Drake. That is, if you didn’t count his grey goatee and the cold look in his eyes.

  “Miss O’Neill,” he greeted her.

  “Mister Kincaid,” she said, a bit more hesitantly.

  “My grandson didn’t mention we’d be having a guest.”

  She gestured to the housekeeper that she wanted to keep her coat on. With Alec Kincaid being here, she intended this to be a short visit. “Actually, I wanted to surprise him.”

  “Ah, surprises. The bread and butter of the youth.” He held out his hand invitingly. “Drake isn’t home. I can keep you company for a bit, however. I think it’s long overdue we had a chat, don’t you think?”

  It seemed rude to turn him down so she followed him. He led them to a room which resembled a library. The mahogany cabinets were stacked with row after row of books
. The door shut behind them with an ominous click, like a trap closing. She shrugged off the feeling. Matteo was only one call away.

  She went and sat on the Chesterfield, which looked and felt as hard and unyielding as the man leaning against his desk.

  Alec Kincaid seemed to study her, up until the moment she was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She cleared her throat. “You wanted to speak with me?”

  “I’m beginning to understand what my grandson sees in you, Miss O’Neill. It is a pity he is so short-sighted.”

  Ah, the pleasantries had already started. Lovely. “Why exactly do you hate me?” she asked bluntly, not planning to partake in an exchange of insults. Somehow it seemed more than the centuries-old hate between dryads and dragons.

  He brushed a finger over his goatee. “Hate is too big a word for what I feel, and also a wrong emotion to use in this context. I feel totally indifferent towards you, so certainly not such a strong emotion as hate. You were not good enough for my grandson when you were merely a dryad, but being a hybrid phoenix makes you an even more unsuitable presence in his life. Being the daughter of Crassus doesn’t exactly endear you to me, either.”

  “And why exactly is that?” she asked, a challenge in her voice.

  He smiled, yet somehow it made him look sad. “There is a chance that you are immortal. This means that, unlike Drake, you will not age. Will you still want to be with him when you look like a twenty-year-old and he’s fifty? Or sixty? Sooner or later you will leave Drake, whether you want this or not, and he will remain behind, a broken man.”

  He actually almost sounded human. “Drake is a grown-up. Perhaps you should let him make his own choices.”

  He quirked a brow at that. “Same goes for you, Miss O’Neill. What is the saying again? Oh, right. If you love someone, then let them go.”

  Somehow she didn’t think mentioning he forgot the other half of that saying would make any difference. “You make it seem as if I’m holding a knife at his throat.”

  His thumbs tapped the desk. “Aren’t you? How well do you two know one another really? Drake has placed you on a pedestal. He feels obligated towards you with you burning and him basically having kindled the fires inside you. For the past year his guilt has been eating at him. I know my grandson better than you do. His insistent devotion towards you was born out of a rebellion against me. Had you not ended up comatose, he no doubt already would have gotten bored with you.”

  She shook her head in denial. There was nothing he could say to make her give up Drake. They were stronger together. “I love him,” she simply said.

  “Do you?” he asked sharply. “What possible future could you two have with the life expectancy of your races so different from each other? Your relationship is doomed to fail. It is better to let him go now than, say, twenty years from now. A fracture heals faster when you are still young.”

  “I don’t plan to ever leave him.”

  “Really? Big words for such a small girl. ‘Ever’ and ‘never’ aren’t words an immortal should use lightly. For you cannot make that promise, since you are a phoenix now. The day will come when you will leave him. Immortality comes with the highest possible price: watching everyone you care about turn into dust while you live on, untouched by the hands of time.”

  She opened her mouth, ready to tell him off; however, his eyes were like icy green shards. There was nothing she could say to change his mind; she knew that. She jumped up. “I should go.”

  “You should have never come.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have,” she agreed, walking to the door.

  “Miss O’Neill?”

  Her hand remained on the door handle as she turned towards him. “Mister Kincaid?” she returned, just as politely. This actually made him smile. A genuine one for a change.

  “It was very brave of you to enter the dragon’s lair all by yourself.”

  She shrugged. Not really. After all, one word inside her head and she would have a phoenix by her side. But surely Kincaid knew that as well. “What is it you’re trying to tell me?”

  “That’s a valiant flea that dares eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion,” he quoted. “Or, in your case, the lip of a dragon. I warn you not to make the same mistake again.”

  The man had just compared her to a flea. There was no way she would ever make the mistake of thinking to have a friendly chat with him again. “Wasn’t planning to come back,” she said honestly.

  He slightly bowed his head. “A wise decision. I wish you a pleasant existence, Miss O’Neill.”

  She couldn’t get away from the Dome and into her car fast enough. Thankfully, Matteo let her borrow his car, because she really didn’t feel like walking to a bus stop after Kincaid’s mental blow. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget every thing he’d said. Unfortunately she had one more stop before she could do that.

  She checked the bag underneath the car chair one more time and then punched in the address of the White Shark into the navigator.

  ***

  Ravi watched the object of his hate from behind the bar. Amber O’Neill: dryad, new, half-breed phoenix. He had to hand it to Drake; she was pretty. But still, right now, even with phoenix blood coursing through her veins, she was mostly a dryad. He knew it would take about a century before she would be able to control the fire inside her. And since she wasn’t completely in control of her body, her body overruled her mind. And not being in complete control over your body and mind meant you were weak.

  She shoved a paper bag towards him over the bar. “This should be enough to cover Ian’s debt.”

  He took the bag and looked inside, his eyes roaming over the jewelry. “You did well at the auction.”

  She looked surprised. “How do you know I got these at the auction?”

  Because I make it my business to know everything about my enemies. He put his arms onto the bar and leaned forward into her space. She didn’t back down and he felt a hint of respect for her. Just a hint, because her bravery was overshadowed by her recklessness to meet him here alone. “I have my sources,” he said as he grabbed a glass from beneath the counter. “I always close my deals with a drink. Let’s make a toast on your brother. May he live long with his kneecaps and neck intact.” He opened a bottle of beer for himself and shoved the glass to her after he poured a drink in it.

  She looked at it hesitantly. “I don’t drink alcohol.”

  “I know. It’s just iced tea.”

  “You seem to know a lot,” she said, sounding affronted as she sniffed the glass. Only when she had determined that it was really iced tea did she take a drink.

  He merely smiled at her open distrust. “As I said, I have my sources. I assume you have sworn off alcohol after your last visit to the Oasis.”

  She put down her empty drink and jumped off the bar stool, giving him a stern look. “Your sources are right. Now, since our business here is over, I’m gonna go. Just stay away from my brother.”

  Her not-so-veiled threat almost made him laugh. Almost. Laughter; a rare phenomenon for him since his post-catacombs period. She was like a kitten trying to roar like a lion. “And what if I don’t?” He expected her to threaten him with her connections. Matteo Lancaster would be a powerful adversary. Not to mention her father, Crassus, and Drake, of course.

  “I don’t know,” she honestly answered to his surprise. “But I’m creative enough to come up with something. Ian is the only family I have left. He’s going through a rough time. I’m not going to allow you to—”

  He put down his bottle with a smack. “Your brother doesn’t know the first thing of the meaning of ‘tough’. He’s a spoiled wanker, used to his dad fixing everything for him. And now he’s hiding behind his sister. I have zero respect for him.”

  Her eyes widened, but he read no fear or anger in them, just understanding, which was probably even worse.

  “It sounds as if you hate him.”

  “I hate his kind,” he admitted, looking on his watch.

&nb
sp; “His kind?”

  “The kind who grew up in a perfect family in a perfect house surrounded by perfect friends. Drake and I used to pity them, the kind who would never make it in the real world. The kind who would crumble the moment something upset their perfect little lives. Ironically, every day Drake becomes more and more part of that same world.” He cocked an eyebrow, looking her straight in the eyes.

  Amber’s eyes started to droop and she was blinking. “I’m not discussing Drake with you,” she lisped. She stepped back in an effort to put more distance between them. “What did you…?” Before she could finish her sentence she dropped like a stone, unconscious.

  Ravi walked around the bar, and looked down at her body lying at his feet. He ducked, put a hand around her throat, and lifted her up. Tomorrow she would have a blue necklace around her neck in the form of his handprint. He reveled in the fact that he would leave his mark on her. It would drive Drake crazy.

  “I wonder if my brother would have left you behind in the Catacombs as well.”

  Sadly, it was something he would never know. Amber Anne O’Neill Lancaster Crassus was too well-protected to ever end up in that position. Didn’t mean he didn’t have other ways to make Drake’s life hell.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Drake browsed on the computer, going through the nth digital accounting book at Kincaid Industries. He’d rather spend his Saturday night somewhere else than in Kincaid’s warehouse, but so far this had been his only clue on how to find Hector. Gregor had pointed out that Kincaid must have transported Hector’s body somehow. Everything that was shipped off through Kincaid Industries was written down in a digital shipping manifest. He just needed to find the unusual shipments and follow the bread crumbs from there—a chore that began to look like finding a needle in a haystack.