“So how…?”
“Exactly. Who knew she existed before the ambassador snooped? Who sent the executioners? After the raid in Alaska, we discovered Gustaf had a spy. Max, the young werewolf, had lived in Alsvåg less than a year. My uncle was devastated.”
Vallen murmured, “Isn’t that too recent to know…”
“About Maya’s birth parents?” He finished for the lynx. “It is, which makes it highly troubling. If none of us knew about her birth, where and how did this other spy get the information.”
“Good question,” Vallen said. “You’ll have to inform Gustaf of your suspicions in person, avoid third-party ears.”
Kailen nodded. “Max had listened in to several high-security communications. Hagen almost died in Alaska because of the information passed on to Sterling and his elf partner Midrin.”
“Meanwhile, activity in town suggests a two-pronged conspiracy.”
“This is what I need to know.” He finished his coffee.
“We had a long lull of inactivity after Ginny’s parents died. Last September, suspicious comings and goings began. The lieutenant in charge walked about town like he owned it. Massive, hairy, and brutish, he apparently didn’t feel glamour was necessary. I saw several minions’ shadows. Only at night. Their forms in daylight would create a panic among humans. No one wants that, not even daemons. Then the second attack on Ginny failed. I guess Astarot pulled his people out of Hillsborough because December was quiet. Things picked up in late January. The current lieutenant is suspicious of his own shadow. I trailed him a few times to an abandoned school building on the west side of town.”
“Abandoned?”
“It was for local ladies and rather on the exclusive side.” He shrugged. “The establishment lost its popularity and funding in the early nineteen hundreds. Now it’s an empty shell. A bit run-down because of lack of maintenance, but it has a solid foundation and pretty architectural lines.”
“Who owns it?”
“Ah-ha.” Vallen beamed. “When I thought I’d found the owner, the trail ended abruptly. Are you good with computers?”
Kailen laughed. “Not one bit, but I know someone who is. Give me the address, and Woody will investigate for us. What else can you tell me?”
“At the end of March, a very attractive lady with jet-black hair, sophisticated, always dressed impeccably, joined the lieutenant, then last week, a strange male arrived. He’s also careful to hide his face. The aura surrounding him frightens even me. And that’s from a long distance.”
“About this male—what does your gut tell you?”
“He has to be supernatural. The heavy energy of his speaks of evil magic.” Vallen rubbed his chin. “The woman… I’m not so sure. She could be mortal. Although, intense is a good description for her. Definitely Alpha personality. She’s not one I’d cross. Are you in town to investigate them?”
“It’s possible the new arrivals might be implicated. Firstly, I’m following a trail of cemetery desecrations. We’re pretty sure daemons are creating drone-like creatures from body parts of deceased humans. We need to verify this, and as far as we know, only females have been put together…sort of.”
Vallen made a face. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”
“And it’s also tragic. The violation of innocent humans in their final rest is a karmic sin and a heartbreak for the relatives,” Kailen said. “Soren and Maya encountered the first drone in Manhattan. The prototype was crude yet powerful. Its weapon carried a highly toxic venom. We also learned acid courses in their vessels instead of blood. Add a little more sophistication to the process, and we might be confronting a fearsome enemy.”
“Lieutenants can’t be reproduced. Their numbers are dwindling, and the magic that created them has mutated to neutral. Is Astarot resorting to necromancy? I didn’t think he could.”
Kailen settled on his chair. “Technically he can, but he won’t. He’s too smart to take on the karmic load of death magic. Dubtach and Oras are practicing it for him. My guess is minions are desecrating graves under their command. Something about this setup doesn’t gel. Both mages were supposed to be hiding from Astarot, but you’re telling me one of them is walking around out in the open.” Bewildered, he shook his head.
“And the second matter?” Vallen asked.
“We need to know where they’re storing and processing the human remains.” He closed his eyes with disgust. “A rather gruesome job I didn’t want. Came to me nonetheless.”
“Yes, that’s pretty awful. I don’t think I’d have the stomach for that. Would you go home afterwards?”
“Depends. I have a personal quest. I haven’t heard from Khnurn the mage in a couple of days. I fear trouble has found him. If I get a lead as to his whereabouts during these investigations, even better. So much is happening at once, so many loose ends.” Kailen dropped his head in his hands. Now that he had put the concern of the allies in some order, it felt like a lot. Could he catch up with everything? And what the heck was taking Talaith so long? He was giving her time to drop off Brysys and teleport to him. If she didn’t come soon, he’d get started with his search. He hadn’t come to waste the afternoon drinking coffee in someone’s kitchen, no matter how pleasant.
“What’s bothering you? You seem tense,” Vallen asked.
Sighing, Kailen stood and walked to the window, then pulled down the slats to survey the street. No one walked or drove by; this was a quiet neighborhood.
“My partner should’ve been here already. Her tardiness is making me antsy.”
“Her?” Vallen asked, wide-eyed.
“Yes.” He smiled. “Talaith is a talented and powerful sorceress. We began working together in April. I promised I would wait before I moved on anyone.”
“You don’t have to move on anyone yet. I can drive you around town and give you a better idea where the different burial sites are.”
He nodded. “I passed an old cemetery on the way here. The ether wasn’t sending signs of disturbances. The place was full of peace. There must be others, right?”
“In this region? Lots.” Vallen took his empty cup to the sink. “North Carolina is one of the original American colonies. All sorts of folks are buried here, from before the English settlers arrived, during the colonization, and after. Take your pick. I recommend extending the search to Chapel Hill too, which is south of here, in case they’ve gone for a busier, more populated city. A fresher, more abundant supply.” He winced. “Gods. I can’t believe I said that.”
“Talaith’s expertise is essential to the investigation. Her memory powers are strong and extensive. Most times it takes her only a simple touch to see the perpetrators and learn their motives and locations.”
Vallen grabbed a set of keys from a shallow bowl on the counter and walked to the end of the kitchen. “Let’s go take a quick drive. It’ll help pass the time. I’ll pin a note on the door in case she comes while we’re out.” He scribbled on a piece of paper, then pointed to the front door. “We can go out that way. My home is old. The garage is on the side.”
Once outside, Vallen hit a button on his phone, and the garage door opened.
Kailen controlled the initial laugh of surprise. He was used to the Titanians’ penchant for flashy top-of-the-line, high-performance vehicles and expected something similar from Vallen, not the modest and hardworking Toyota Tacoma. The truck’s all-white color was as average and nondescript as it could be. He studied Vallen with new admiration. The shifter had chosen a vehicle made for the human masses, one that disguised the driver and allowed him to blend in a crowd. Smart choice in this tense environment.
Vallen started the engine, reversed the vehicle two feet, and slammed on the brakes. He glanced through the rearview mirror and chuckled. “I think your partner is here.”
Kailen didn’t bother to look. He jumped out as his heart picked up speed. A hand visoring her eyes from the bright afternoon sun, her free hand fisted on her hip, Talaith stood on the sidewalk. He closed the distance i
n a few strides. She smiled, and he pulled her by the waist until she pressed against him. She felt so good, so perfect, so… He was running out of words and couldn’t believe the strength of his emotions. Damn, he’d missed her.
“You’re late.”
“Your charge kept me.” She grinned. “Blame him.”
“Soren?”
“Who else?”
“Didn’t he know you were meeting me? What were his reasons for delaying you?”
“Issues with our druid refugee. He didn’t trust her information. Her story came across hollow, and parts were clearly missing. Much as I wanted to transport here, I picked up on her hesitation. Hoping to get to the bottom of her evasions, I suggested a joint memory journey, and she was game. Heck yes, she was keeping stuff. I don’t blame her, though. I would’ve too. Then we had to teleport south…”
“South? Where?”
She grimaced. “Patagonia.”
“Has Soren lost his mind? At least tell me he went with you.” He studied her, checking for injuries or abrasions. “Anything hurt?”
“I’m fine, truly. We had to fix the pathway Brysys and Dubtach used to escape. Soren took good care of us.”
“This sounds crazier by the minute. I—”
“Hey, guys,” Vallen called from the car. “You can talk while I drive. I wouldn’t mind hearing some of the details. Sounds like you had fun.”
“Fun.” Muttering, he entwined his fingers with hers. “Let’s go, a stór, before we lose our ride. You’re not done yet. I want to know everything.” He kissed her knuckles. “I’m both glad and relieved you’re here.”
“Did you worry?”
He frowned. “Do you have to ask?”
“No, but it’s good to hear I’ve been missed.”
“Brat. I missed you all right.”
Kailen couldn’t have asked for better weather to search the area’s cemeteries. The afternoon was sunny and cool. According to their host, rush hour hadn’t started yet. In another hour, the masses of working humanity would congest the roads.
Vallen took them to the outskirts of Chapel Hill, through lovely roads, then jumped on Highway 86, the continuation of Churton Street. In some spots, ancient pines lined the road; on others, housing developments in midconstruction outlined the path of constant human advance.
As the drive continued, the truth became clear to Kailen: the region was the perfect snare, an ideal spiderweb, and even better hideout for Dubtach and his collaborators. Unspoiled and still uncluttered, the area’s spacious rolling hills, green landscape, and scattered lakes attracted peace-seeking humans by the hundreds—abundant supply for their experiments. No wonder daemons had come. The idyllic setting hid their deadly schemes.
“This is pretty,” Talaith chimed in, her elbows propped between the two front seats and wearing no seat belt, a traffic cop’s dream ticket.
“You should have seen this place when I first arrived,” Vallen said.
“When was that?” Kailen asked.
“Gosh, I haven’t spoken about it in ages.” Vallen’s expression was dreamy. “By the time Cabot reached America, I’d grown tired of the wars in Europe. He returned with tales of wonders. The New World captivated everyone’s imagination, including mine. I liked the idea of getting lost. No rules, no laws, just me and unspoiled nature. When I heard Verrazzano’s ship, La Dauphine, was preparing to sail again, I skipped over to Madeira, aiming to sign up. Because several crew members had deserted their posts, in January 1524, I was hired as an able seaman. Climbing all that rigging was second nature to someone like me. The ship came near Cape Fear, but instead of exploring closer to land, we went around and sailed north. We reached Pamlico Sound, and I jumped ship. I wasn’t taking any chances. For many years, I existed in my lynx form. As the English continued to settle the area, I phased to human, and here we are today.”
“That’s what I call an adventure,” Talaith said.
Vallen shrugged. “Crossing the Atlantic was difficult. Conditions were horrible and unhealthy, even by sixteenth-century standards. My supernatural shifter nature helped me survive. That’s behind me. Now I only look to the future.”
“How about the ladies. Anyone special?” she asked.
“No fated mate, although I’ve been with human women. Unfortunately, my life span is much longer than theirs. I’d have to break off relationships before they noticed I wasn’t ageing. I’d give a good excuse, then move to one of my other homes. I’m a mountain lynx. I own a secluded cottage in the Mount Mitchell area and another in Boone. I sort of triangulate my time.” He smiled at Talaith from the rearview mirror. “It works.”
“We’ll have to find you a proper mate.” She beamed.
“Careful, she could have you matched before you know it,” Kailen said.
“Look, we’re here.” Vallen slowed and pulled the truck to the curb.
Kailen winked at Talaith. “You’ve been told to mind your own business in a very polite way.”
She didn’t react to his teasing. Her attention was fixed on a long, fifties-style, one-story structure. Emerald-green lawns extended on both sides.
“What are you sensing?” he asked.
She waved a hand, ignoring his question. “Vallen, can you pull in the driveway?”
“Absolutely. This is one of the funeral homes I thought you should check.” Vallen drove in and took the first spot available.
Talaith stepped out, scanning the surroundings, her faraway expression in full force. She was either beckoning or reading responses from the ether. Kailen donned his skull cap and stood at her side. Inside the truck, hands folded on the steering wheel, Vallen waited.
As she turned to the northwest, a middle-aged gentleman wearing a crisp business suit emerged through tinted sliding doors. Walking quickly, he extended a hand. New customers to trap was written all over him.
“Welcome to Serene Gardens Funeral Services.” He shook Kailen’s hand. “I am Mr. Wilford, the manager. What can we do for you today? Interested in our services? I have brochures inside.”
Tension radiated from Talaith in waves as she stepped back from the manager. Reading her distress, Kailen moved between them, blocking the man’s path to her.
“At the moment, we’re only looking around,” Kailen said. “We’re not at any critical point, if you get my meaning.”
“Sure, sure. I understand. Why don’t you come in and select one of our many brochures anyway and peruse our different plans at your leisure?”
Evidently, Mr. Wilford was determined to secure potential customers. Kailen was about to give a token response when Talaith tugged his shirt.
“We must go,” she whispered.
“Sorry to bother you,” Kailen said. “My wife isn’t feeling well. I’ll come back another time.”
Mr. Wilford kept his professional mask on. “I quite understand.” He pulled a card out of his top pocket and offered it to Kailen. “Keep it. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll have the information ready.”
“Thank you.” Kailen glanced at the card. As he climbed back into the truck, Talaith clambered in the rear seat.
“Go, Vallen. It’s that way.” She pointed to the northwest.
Nodding, the lynx sped out the driveway and turned in the direction Talaith was indicating.
“Talk to me,” Kailen urged.
“They went to the northwest,” she murmured. Her glassy-eyed expression made his skin crawl. She was deep in a trailing trance.
“When? Did we miss them?”
“No. Yesterday. Dubtach and his female accomplice came to Wilford. Soon he’ll be an obedient minion, providing Dubtach with all the parts he needs. The dark mage poisons what he touches and leaves a mesmerizing footprint. Humans are easily bent to his will. He hides now. The building is old and looks fairly tired.”
“Crap. I know the place she means.” Vallen pressed the accelerator. “They’re using the old school. Hang on.” He turned at the next corner, took the highway ramp, and merged with t
raffic at top speed.
“Sit back and buckle your seat belt,” Kailen urged.
She obeyed. But as soon as she clasped her seat belt, her finger resumed pointing like an eerie compass.
Vallen continued north, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speed. He reached a point where vehicles around them began to slow down. About a mile ahead, a traffic jam loomed. Cursing under his breath, he veered to the exit. Brakes screeched around them; angry horns blew.
He smiled. “Don’t mean to scare you. One must do what one must do. We can’t afford to get stuck.”
“I guess,” Kailen murmured, squeezing the handhold at his side. He looked over his shoulder. Talaith hadn’t moved, nor had her eyes cleared. “How long?”
“Since we didn’t miss that exit, I’d say ten, fifteen minutes tops.”
Under Vallen’s guidance, the truck hurtled through country roads, over potholes and asphalt cracks, shock absorbers be damned. Several sharp curves and turns later, he said, “We came from the southwest. The school is up ahead. On your left.”
At one time, the building must have displayed the traditional brick facade, which most expensive prep schools and colleges in the northeast favored. Disrepair was everywhere. Wild ivy clung to the western end; black mold had overcome the rest. Its broken and bare windows scowled at the world like angry eye sockets. From this point, he estimated the structure was two stories high, with a raised main level, a second top floor, and a basement. In addition, a magic wielder had submerged the school within a terrifying emanation that humans couldn’t see or understand. They only knew to stay away. The old school couldn’t be more forbidding if it tried.
“Slow a little, but don’t stop,” Kailen said. “I want to drive past first, get a feel for it.”
The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2) Page 18
