I shivered, wondering what could have possibly happened. I had absolutely no recollection of any of this. Could he be wrong? Had he seen some kind of illusion?
“Richard…is there any chance that maybe you saw something that didn’t happen? An illusion?” I asked carefully. “You are the only one to have seen this scenario.”
He shook his head firmly. “Not a chance. I know illusion. Which is what makes this so confusing. I don’t sense anything around you right now. And I should if it’s an illusion cast upon you. Maybe it’s because you did it to yourself? Much like how you said Cain also senses no demon disguise on you.”
I sighed. I had no idea. “What did this man look like?”
He shrugged thoughtfully. “A guy.”
I blinked at him, waiting for more. “You sure it was a guy? Some of them have orbs of delight on their chests,” I explained dryly, indicating my own chest, “but those guys are called broads, dames, women…” I waved a hand as if the list went on forever.
His face reddened. “It was a man. I couldn’t see his face. He was powerful, but I couldn’t decipher what kind of power. And since you knew him, were speaking amicably with him, I didn’t press. He was obviously a friend of yours.”
I shook my head. “I…don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember any of that…” This only made Richard look more concerned. Why would I do such a thing to myself? And who could have possibly convinced me to do such a thing?
I looked at Richard sharply. “Samael?”
Richard snarled. “I would know Samael’s stench anywhere. It definitely wasn’t him. I did not recognize the scent. I do not think I even picked up on a scent, actually…” he said, as if only just thinking about that. “Some kind of metal, maybe…”
I was simply relieved to hear the conviction in Richard’s voice when he’d denied it being Samael. All this just served to confirm that someone was indeed playing a game, and it did likely have to be someone I knew, since he’d approached me openly and I hadn’t been alarmed.
Or…the person had done something to disarm me and Richard hadn’t sensed it. Richard had said the man was powerful and had only a metallic-maybe scent. Maybe a Sanguine Council member had snuck into town before Roland’s barrier went up. Vampires could lull their victims if they were strong enough. I had a certain tolerance for vampire enthrallments, having trained with the Shepherds, so the vampire would have had to be very powerful. High-ranking vampires only.
Of course, that admission brought vampire numero uno to mind.
Dracula.
Oh, god. I hadn’t spoken with Dracula, had I? Dracula was probably the most notorious for enthrallment. Probably the bestest the world had ever seen.
Maybe I really had been Dracula’d!
I shook off that thought. Whoever had done it didn’t really matter right now. I couldn’t do anything about it at the moment. I turned to Richard, smiling weakly. “It’s okay. Thanks for telling me this. I’ll figure it out,” I reassured him as I guided him back towards Claire.
Chapter 36
As we walked, I tried inspecting myself magically, wondering if I could sense my own magic affecting me. But I found nothing. I was too good to catch myself, apparently.
I studied Richard discreetly as we walked. He was frowning to himself, not liking the situation one bit. He was of Asian descent…or had chosen to appear so. But I knew he could shift into all manner of appearances. Why had he chosen this one? Had he always chosen so?
Qinglong had warned me about trust—but he had also confirmed I could trust Solomon and Richard. That we were family and shared a sacred bond. And Richard had leapt into a fight to save me in the warehouse. He had literally saved my life.
I shuddered, the reality of that only just now hitting me. Eae had almost killed me. Beheaded me. I had never seen that cold look on his face before. Well, cold, sure, but not as cold as that.
I wasn’t sure how much time I’d lost speaking with Qinglong, but I needed to get moving, and I had an idea or two about immediate steps I wanted to take, even after hearing Richard’s story about my friend from the alley.
“How does your ability work?” I asked, as we reached Claire again. “Sensing me in danger. Can you spy on me?” Claire looked ready to grab me by the ear until I shared my private talk with Richard, but I gave her a stern look.
Richard scoffed. “No. I can’t hear you or anything. It’s more like…a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I knew you were in trouble, and where you were—because of your ring—but not what the trouble was. It felt dire, so I rushed to you as fast as I could. I almost wasn’t fast enough to stop the angel,” he admitted guiltily. “It’s been some time since anyone wore the Seal of Solomon, and I had almost forgotten what it felt like to share that bond.”
I glanced at him. “My mother…” I said.
He nodded somberly. “Yes,” he said, keeping his eyes downcast as he continued. “We were quite the pair before she took off the Seal and hid it from us…”
Seeing him now—a strong, but seemingly young, Asian man—in a fluffy white robe casually talking about keeping me safe from monsters almost made me burst out laughing. But…he had done the same thing for my mother. Before she had met my father and run away with Calvin and Makayla Temple.
Claire snorted abruptly, drawing my attention away from Richard. “Jackpot,” she said, grinning from ear-to-ear.
I followed her gaze to see—
My mouth fell open.
Claire laughed at me. “This place is fucking wild, right? I’ve seen more man-meat here in the last hour than I’ve seen in the past few months in Kansas City.”
Richard was waving his hands wildly, trying to silently warn Claire’s victim.
Sensing this, Claire began jogging backwards, grinning at us. “You two catch up. I’m going to go talk to the naked dude,” she said. Then she spun and skipped towards the lounge chairs thirty yards away.
Where Solomon was sprawled out on a deck chair, ankles crossed and his hands folded behind his head, unaware of our arrival up until that point.
He was as naked as a baby.
But the sound of Claire approaching must have finally alerted him, because he turned to look, swiftly peeling off a pair of sunglasses to blink at Claire with rapidly widening eyes.
He instantly dove for a towel lying beside his chair.
“No need to cover up on my account, sailor. I just wanted to say—” she cut off with a strangled squawk, “my god! What the hell is that?” she demanded, skidding to a halt and blatantly pointing at him.
I raced over, my face flushing at her choice of words. No matter what Solomon’s bait and tackle looked like, there was a certain level of tact required when describing it in a group setting. Namely, not do describe it in a group setting.
I left Richard in my dust and skidded on my heels to find Solomon wrapping the towel around his waist and standing to face us. I opened my mouth to verbally spank Claire for her rudeness, but I let out a gasp of my own upon seeing Solomon.
The black veins looked much more prominent than last time I’d seen them. They fanned across his chest and upper arms in stark contrast to the clean white towel. But what had really thrown me was that freaking thorns were growing out from the skin of his shoulders where a knot of black veins connected in a particularly large dark mass. A trickle of blood oozed out from the wound, making me wince.
I shook my head in both disgust and guilt. “Those…” I began, lifting my hand to point, “those aren’t black veins. They’re roots!” I hissed incredulously, wincing further as I noticed a few additional thick and wickedly curved barbs piercing his flesh—as if they were clawing to get out of his body.
Roots…like from a tree. And trees were made of wood. Qinglong—represented by wood and Spring—had admitted to putting a growth in Solomon, but I hadn’t taken it literally. Solomon was known as one of the wisest men in the world, according to stories. So did that make him…
The tree o
f knowledge.
I would, of course, never say that out loud. I shouldn’t have even thought it.
And guilt threatened to consume me because I knew the guy who could cure him, but instead of offering up that information, I was thinking of jokes.
Solomon hung his head and nodded. “The sunlight seems to keep them at bay,” he said tiredly, waving a hand up at the sky. Something about that tickled my memory, giving me an idea. But I didn’t immediately voice it. It probably wouldn’t do to tell them that the dragon hiding in Solomon’s Temple had done this to him. Oh, and he’s a friend. Wicked flesh-stache. Yeah…First impressions mattered. I would hold off on this one. Because according to Qinglong, Solomon had time—no matter how bad he looked right now.
And I simply had no time to help him.
“I didn’t mean for you to see me like this,” Solomon admitted. He didn’t sound embarrassed for himself, but more like he hadn’t wanted to share the burden with me. That he hadn’t wanted sympathy or a doting eye. Just a man suffering his injuries in privacy, not wanting anyone to offer their help.
Richard stepped up beside me. “I didn’t realize you were out here, Solomon, or I would have led them away,” he said apologetically. “Let me walk you back to your rooms. I need to go check on Phix anyway, so we’re heading in the same direction.” He shot me a very flat look, demanding that I drop the topic right now, even though it was a blatant lie about Phix. He and Claire had already checked on the sphinx.
I nodded, still deeply unsettled by Solomon’s condition. “We’ll wait here,” I told him.
I’d wanted to pick Solomon’s brain on a few things but seeing him like this…I realized how callous it would be for me to ask his help while not admitting the solution to his predicament was within my grasp. Kind of. I couldn’t tell them about Qinglong without starting a long, long, long conversation—and possible fight. I didn’t have time for a long conversation. Or a fight.
I watched them leave, smiling faintly at how careful Richard was to appear like he wasn’t ready to catch Solomon the moment he might fall. But to someone like me, who had spent years in martial arts—paying attention to foot placement, posture, and balance—it was obvious that Richard was Solomon’s personal nurse. And he was so good at hiding it that Solomon probably wasn’t even aware of it. Or he had accepted it with the finality of a man who knew there was no hope of a cure, accepting the despair and resigning himself to simply watching the ticking hand of the clock of life, relishing each spastic click of the second hand.
I shooed Claire over to the balcony, forcibly turning her shoulders to look out at the garden. “Leave the men in peace,” I told her, attempting to hide my own frustration.
I couldn’t justify taking the time to help Solomon right now.
Because after speaking with Qinglong, I had grown very confident that Roland’s plan to mess with Dracula might just be a plot of the Masters.
Whether he knew it or not.
And that was a big, dark concern, consuming my every thought since leaving my mother’s laboratory. Just how bad was Roland these days?
Chapter 37
Claire leaned out over the railing, sweeping her blue eyes over the gardens, a dazed smile plastered over her cheeks as she slowly shook her head in awe. “Solomon’s Temple,” she murmured. Then she nudged me playfully with her shoulder. “Sweet digs, sister. Much better than my lady cave sex dungeon.”
I nodded absently, but the questions racing through my mind were too murky and numerous to let myself truly enjoy the moment. I grunted at a thought. The White Rose didn’t have time to stop and smell the roses. Go figure.
“I haven’t really had the chance to explore it yet,” I said, leaning down on my forearms and breathing in the rich, earthy smells from the gardens. “As soon as I arrived, I heard about Kansas City.” I studied the sweep of luscious greenery, but I just couldn’t get into any happy thoughts. “You know, it would have been incredibly helpful if Alucard had mentioned that the Shepherds had an angel on the bench, let alone one I personally knew,” I grumbled.
Claire murmured her agreement. “Shocked the hell out of me. What also shocked the hell out of me was when my usually intelligent friend decided to try summoning a fucking archangel,” she added in a very dry tone, “while she was stuck in a spell that made her look, sound, and smell like a demon. That one really shocked me.”
I grunted. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. Michael and I are cool. We go way back.”
Claire shot me an astonished look. “Way back, eh?” she said doubtfully.
I nodded. “He took me to his place once. Helped me out of a pickle.”
Claire stared at me. “I think you’re grossly exaggerating your friendship.”
“You’re just jealous that I’m friends with angels.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. One of those angel pals of yours just tried to kill me. I don’t think I’m in the market for meeting any more of your friends.” She picked at the railing with a fingernail, looking lost in thought, or debating something heavy on her mind. Finally, she made up her mind. “I must be a terrible friend to not know about your psycho angel pals. Too absorbed in my own little world, not bothering to tell you about all my adventures—”
I swatted her in the arm, cutting her off. “Yeah, yeah. I get it,” I muttered. “While you were off playing find the honeypot with Kenai in Alaska, I met some new people.”
“Find the honeypot…” She chuckled huskily. “That’s not a half-bad idea. By any chance, did you finally play any games with Nate while I was gone?” Her eyes abruptly twinkled with mischievous excitement. “Maybe something super weird with your magic—”
I cut her off with a forceful shove this time, my face aflame. “No. None of that. Unfortunately.” I added the last bit because it was true. I was also hoping it would appease the horn-ball enough for her to let go of the topic. “Like I was saying, I ran into Michael about a year ago. He wanted to talk to me about the whole Nameless thing, imprisoning a fallen angel inside my ring.”
Claire shivered, fingering the bracelet on her wrist—a band of creamy leather about the size of a watch with no face, and scribbled with unfamiliar dark runes. Seeing those, I hurriedly averted my gaze, not wanting to think about the omegabet I’d somehow translated in my mother’s laboratory. The bracelet made Claire bulletproof—courtesy of Darling and Dear—although it hadn’t offered much help against Angel Eae.
I sighed, brushing off the thought. Claire had been there the night I trapped Nameless.
“You didn’t mention anything about Michael when you were telling me about the Doors,” she said, frowning.
I shrugged. “I didn’t tell you about the croissant I ate that morning either, Claire,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “It’s not like you handed over your diary of the last year either. It wasn’t important at the time. Now, it is. When we figure all this crap out, we can rent some cheesy movies, get drunk, and overshare to our hearts’ desire with a sleepover. Right now, we don’t have time,” I snapped, more harshly than I had intended.
She was quiet for a few seconds, letting me get my breathing under control. “Easy, Callie. I wasn’t picking a fight. Just…I’ve missed you,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. Then she leaned over the balcony and I saw a tear fall onto the railing below her.
That single drop startled the hell out of me. I hadn’t said anything that mean.
She refused to meet my eyes as she spoke. “I give off this brave face, flaunt my body, make suggestive jokes, but inside…” she trailed off, blinking another tear onto the balcony. “Inside, I’m fucking screaming, Callie!” she finished in a hoarse whisper.
My own eyes misted up and my breath caught at the level of pain in her voice. Even still, it didn’t make any sense, catching me entirely by surprise. I turned to her suddenly. “Did Kenai—”
“No! Nothing like that. It’s not boy trouble,” she muttered, waving a hand. “It’s…well, it’s everything, Callie. I
’m a goddamned polar bear!” she blurted out, as if she’d been bottling up that simple statement for far too long. “My life has shifted into this incredibly frightening nightmare. And it just keeps getting scarier! I used to be a veterinarian, Callie. And today we fought a fucking angel! One who would have killed you if Last Breath hadn’t jumped in at the last second to save your ass. Think about that!” she sobbed angrily. “I’ve been searching for you for a year, Callie. I finally find you…and you were almost beheaded in front of me not twelve hours later! I would have lost my ever-loving mind…” She shuddered, panting desperately and no longer caring that she was openly crying.
I stood entirely still, numb to the bone. I…hadn’t thought about that. Definitely not in that way. It would have utterly shattered Claire. No matter how tough she was. Hell, she’d been on the verge of going feral the moment I set my eyes on her in my apartment. One gentle nudge away from losing her humanity entirely. My death would have been a drop-kick.
“Sure, there are parts of this that I love,” Claire continued, wiping at her nose with her robe as she regained some of her composure, “and parts that terrify me. But mostly…it’s all just so much. At first, I bottled it in as a coping mechanism to keep my own sanity. Letting the aggression and instincts of the bear take over is actually a huge relief. I’ve pretty much been relying on it to survive. But that human part of me—Goldilocks, I call her—is slowly starting to come out of her hiding place, and I’m not sure where she fits anymore. If she fits anymore,” she whispered.
I couldn’t take it anymore, blinking through a blurry film of my own tears, each word from Claire feeling like the stab of a knife to my heart. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, petting her hair. “I had no idea, Claire. You put on such a brave face that I didn’t even think to press you on it. I thought you had embraced your new…changes, like the bear had helped you open up or something.” I thought a little levity might help. “You know, I am woman, hear me roar.”
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