The Belial Ring (The Belial Series 3)

by R. D. Brady

  Kati leaned over and kissed Laney on the forehead before leaving.

  Laney sat quietly, Kati’s words flowing through her mind. She wasn’t ready to forgive Victoria for what she had put her through.

  But she had to admit, the only ones hurt here were her and Patrick. Her parents were beyond getting hurt.

  No. Henry and Victoria were hurt too, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

  Henry. When she’d first met him, she’d been bowled over by his intelligence, his kindness, his generosity in all things. The image of him risking his own life to save her uncle’s was forever branded in her mind.

  Laney kicked off her blankets. She needed to talk to her brother.

  CHAPTER 32

  About eight hundred yards from the main building, Laney drove the golf cart over the rolling lawns to Henry's house. Ahead, a deep grouping of well-aged blue spruces guarded the way to Henry’s home. The branches rubbed against the side of the cart as she passed through.

  Most people who arrived at the expansive Chandler Group’s Headquarters probably assumed that Henry’s home was equally lavish. But actually, it was the exact opposite.

  As she broke free of the towering evergreens, Henry’s cottage came into view. A two-story home that had once been a caretaker’s cottage, it was extremely modest by millionaire standards.

  But Henry wasn’t into the trappings of wealth. He knew that for the Chandler Group to be successful, he needed to present a wealthy image. Underneath the image, however, he preferred a simple existence.

  There was no driveway, no noticeable wires. It was just a simple stone cottage, with a riot of wildflowers surrounding it, looking as if it could have been right at home at the turn of the nineteenth century.

  Henry had added a second floor a decade ago and outfitted it with all the latest in electronics and security to allow him to work from home when necessary. Otherwise, though, it was minimalistic.

  Inside, of course, the doorways and windows had been adapted to accommodate Henry’s height. On the walls, there were a few simple sketches—bought because Henry liked them, not for their resale value. The furniture was chosen for the history he felt when he saw it, and of course, for its comfort.

  Laney loved that about him. He could have lived in a huge mansion. Instead, he chose a simple cottage for him and Danny to call home.

  Laney pulled to a stop next to the front stone path. The heavy oak door opened before she reached it.

  Henry stood outlined in the frame. “Hey.”

  Laney climbed the three brick stairs. “Hey.”

  Henry stepped back to let her in. “I was about to get some sweet tea. Would you like a glass?”

  Laney wasn’t thirsty, but she said yes anyway. She followed Henry back to the kitchen. Pictures dotted the hall. Henry had added them in the last year. Pictures of Laney, Jake, Danny, Jen, Patrick, even some of Kati and Max, covered the space. At the end of the hall were even a few from when Henry was child.

  Just before the kitchen, a picture of Henry and Victoria made Laney pause. In the photo, Henry couldn’t have been any older than four. Victoria stood behind him, her arms wrapped around him, giant smiles on both of their faces. The Victoria that Laney knew today had a head of pure white hair. But in the old shot, her hair had been a deep auburn—the exact same shade as Laney’s.

  Laney stepped into the kitchen. A giant farmhouse stove stood against the left wall, a brick archway above it. Large windows looked out onto a stone patio. The walls were a pale yellow, the cabinets a grey blue. Laney had always liked this kitchen. She always felt welcome in it.

  She took a seat at the island, with its heavy oak counter. Henry got out two glasses and poured them each some tea.

  “Thanks.” Laney took the glass from Henry, taking a small sip.

  Henry took a seat next to her. “So, how exactly do we start this conversation?”

  Laney let out a shaky laugh. “I’m really not sure.”

  “Laney, I want you to know, I never knew any of what my mother—our mother—revealed. I didn’t know . . .” His voice drifted off.

  “You didn’t know I was your sister?” Laney asked gently.

  Henry nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You don’t remember her being pregnant? Or anything?”

  “I was only five. And Dad had just died.”

  Laney was jolted by his words. She’d forgotten about the timing. Henry’s dad, her dad, had been killed just six months before her birth. Victoria had been pregnant when she watched her husband get killed for what he was.

  Henry continued, unaware of Laney’s thoughts. “I remember her going away for a few days, which was weird, because at that point, she barely ever let me be alone. That must have been when—”

  “When I was born.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Henry, I don’t understand Victoria. I don’t get why she does what she does.”

  Henry gave a little laugh. “Well, you’re in good company there, because I don’t either. But what I’ve never doubted, no matter how many secrets she’s kept, is that she loves me and that she’s always doing what she thinks is in my best interest. And while this last revelation is incredible, I can’t help but think she did it because she thought it was what was best for you, too.”

  “It’s just hard to accept that. My whole life has been a lie.”

  “Not a lie. You had two parents who loved you. You have an uncle who loves you. You have other people in your life who love you. Who gave birth to you doesn’t change any of that.”

  “Logically, I know you’re right.” Laney sighed. “But it feels different. It all feels different.”

  Silence settled between them. Thoughts of Victoria and James Chandler floated through Laney’s mind. She shoved them away. When Henry had been abducted, they’d learned that James Chandler had actually been Enoch—or Metatron, if you called him by his angel name. Apparently, Enoch was reborn time and time again.

  But Victoria . . . well, no one knew who Victoria really was. And despite Victoria’s protestations, Laney was sure she wasn’t just a normal human.

  The fantastical identities of her biological parents, though, were too much for Laney to cope with right now. She needed to deal with the fact that she wasn’t the biological child of Derek and Fiona McPhearson. That would be enough for today. Dealing with her supernatural parentage would have to wait until at least tomorrow—or, better yet, three years from now. Maybe then she’d be ready.

  Laney glanced over at Henry. He looked so sad, so alone. She took his giant hand in both of hers. “The one good thing I can say about all this is that I get to have you as a brother. If I’m being honest, though, you’ve felt like my brother since we met. This news just makes it official.”

  Henry gently squeezed her hand. “I feel the same way.”

  Tears crested in Laney’s eyes. Henry’s my brother.

  She stood, and Henry opened his arms. She walked into them and they folded around her. Tears ran down her cheeks. They held each other, sharing the loss of not getting to watch each other grow up, but also the joy of finally finding one another.

  After a few moments, she pulled back and gave a small, embarrassed laugh, wiping away her tears. She’d been a crying mess lately. She wasn’t ready to forgive Victoria yet, but having a brother—that she could get used to.

  “Okay, enough with the waterworks,” she said. “Any idea what this destiny thing is all about?”

  “No, but I know someone who does.”

  Laney knew he was going to say that. She pictured Kati’s face. Kati had been scared. And she had every right to be. If Clark was right, a lot of normal, everyday people were going to get hurt. And apparently, Laney was the one person who could prevent that.

  She sighed, knowing her next action was inevitable. “Okay. Let’s go talk to Victoria.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Rockland, Maine

  Laney glanced down as Jake flew the Chandler helicopter over the fields surround
ing Victoria’s property. It was a beautiful piece of land, thirty acres near the sea. A house came into view, settled a couple hundred yards from the beach, a giant garden in the back.

  Laney realized with shock that Victoria’s house was incredibly similar to Henry’s. Both had chosen simple little two-story cottages. Like mother, like son.

  The helicopter started to descend and so did Laney’s stomach. Victoria stood on the back patio, Patrick beside her.

  When Henry had called Victoria to let her know they were coming, Laney learned that Patrick had stayed in Maine as Victoria’s guest last night.

  Laney had been shocked. Had Patrick forgiven Victoria? Was he okay with everything that she had done? What did that mean for Laney and Patrick’s relationship?

  Jake touched down the skids and began shutting down the chopper.

  Henry turned to look back at Laney. “Ready?”

  Heart racing, she put up a hand. “Just need a minute.”

  Jake looked at her over his shoulder. “Take as much time as you need.”

  Laney nodded, looking out the window at Victoria and Patrick. She searched Patrick’s face. She didn’t know what she expected to find. Happiness? Rejection? Anger? But she couldn’t read it.

  The rotors stopped spinning and Laney knew it was time. “Okay, let’s go.” She opened her door and stepped out.

  Jake and Henry did the same.

  Henry outpaced Laney and Jake, reaching the patio first. He walked over to his mother, murmured in her ear, and escorted her into the house.

  Jake kissed Laney on the cheek. “I’ll be right inside.”

  Laney watched Jake disappear into the house as well, leaving her alone on the patio with Patrick. Her eyes turned to him. “Hi.”

  Patrick didn’t say anything. Just walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Laney. I always have and I always will.”

  Laney felt her knees go weak. She didn’t realize how truly afraid she’d been that her uncle would leave her. That he’d turn his back. She held on to him.

  His arms gripped her tighter. “Whatever happens, Laney, I’ll be right here with you. Just like always.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Laney walked with her uncle into the house, her arm wrapped around his. They stepped into the kitchen. It was beautiful. The cabinets were all white, with brown and white granite countertops. A giant farmhouse table stood in front of an old brick fireplace.

  Laney realized, with a start, that it was also very similar to Henry’s. Genetics run deep in this family, she thought, because honestly, it was the exact the type of kitchen she would have chosen as well.

  “Victoria’s study is right down the hall,” Patrick said.

  Laney nodded, but her feet didn’t seem to want to move. She wasn’t sure how much more of this emotional roller coaster she could handle. It seemed like she was constantly being bounced from apprehension to joy to sadness and back again. And she had a feeling the next chat with Victoria was going to be yet another tumultuous ride.

  Patrick stopped next to her. “It’ll be okay.” He looked down at her. “Laney, you’ve never been one to hide under the covers. If you do in fact have a destiny, it’s coming whether you want it to or not. And I know you—you’d rather know what’s coming.”

  Laney took a breath. She straightened her shoulders. Patrick was right. And she was done crying. Whatever Victoria revealed, she’d face it. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Patrick patted her hand and led her down the hall. They stopped at the last door on the right. Inside, Henry leaned back against a mantelpiece, a fire burning low next to him. Jake stood on the other side of the fireplace.

  Two couches flanked the fireplace and Victoria sat on one, near Henry. She stood as she caught sight of Laney. “Laney, I—” She went silent and then said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Laney nodded, walking in and taking a seat across from her.

  Jake and Patrick sat down on either side of her.

  Laney gave them each a quick glance before turning to face Victoria. “Okay. So let’s hear about my destiny.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Johnson City, Tennessee

  Amar sat on the couch in the living room, enjoying the peace. He took a sip of Merlot. Delightful. His mood dimmed, however, as he scanned the latest translation from the book.

  He laid the papers on the oak coffee table in front of him and stared out the large picture window toward the barn. But he didn’t register the sight; his mind was too full. Could it be? After all this time?

  A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

  Amar narrowed his eyes at the human guard who stepped in. “I said I was not to be disturbed.”

  The guard bowed his head. “I know, sir. I’m sorry. But a man arrived at the door. He insists on seeing you. He says his name is Gerard Thompson.”

  Amar cursed. Gerard. He was indebted to the man, he supposed, for finding the book in Las Vegas. And he had tied up the loose ends in the whole affair nicely. But still. The man took too many liberties. And the truth was, Gerard owed him much more than he owed Gerard.

  Amar swallowed. Of course, it would not pay to make Gerard angry. Not with his connections. He darted a glance at the guard, but the man was staring at the floor. He could see nervousness in the man’s frame. Not surprising. Gerard was always polite, and yet there was a tangible sense of menace around him.

  “Very well. Send him in.”

  The guard nodded and disappeared back out the door. Only a few seconds later, the hairs on Amar’s body tingled. Gerard walked in. Standing at six feet with blond hair and sharp cheekbones, Gerard had looks that would make a Scandinavian model jealous. Amar had never seen Gerard flustered, never seen him without confidence. The man was unflappable.

  Amar strove for the same composure as he crossed the room, his hand extended. “Gerard. What a wonderful surprise. If you had let me know that you were coming, I would have had a lunch prepared.”

  Gerard grasped Amar’s hand in a firm handshake. “A shame. Perhaps next time.”

  Amar gestured at his glass of wine. “I just opened a lovely Merlot. Can I get you a glass?”

  Gerard followed Amar back to the couch. He sat in one of the large armchairs, his foot resting on his knee. “Thank you, no. I only stopped in for a quick update, and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “There was no need to come all this way. I could have easily sent you the information.” He gestured to the papers on the coffee table. “I was just reading the latest translation.”

  Gerard raised his hands, palms up. “Well, I just go where I’m told. And seeing as I’m here, why don’t you just tell me what you’ve found?”

  Amar paused for only a second, recognizing the order in Gerard’s polite tone. Swallowing his resentment, he said, “The translation is about ninety percent complete.”

  “And what have you found out about Delaney McPhearson?”

  “From what I’ve read, she is probably the one.”

  Gerard nodded, his hand on his chin. “Very well. And what of the rest?”

  “Well, it’s rather detailed,” Amar hedged.

  Gerard smiled, showing all his teeth. “Just hit the highlights for me.”

  “It echoes many of the same sentiments as the War Scroll.”

  “Does it mention the three?”

  “Yes. Both of them.”

  Gerard nodded. “Good. What about the key?”

  Amar smiled, careful to keep his expression neutral, his heart rate normal. “Nothing yet. But like I said, the translation isn’t complete.”

  “Anything else of interest?”

  “No, nothing stands out. I’ll forward you a copy of the full translation when it’s complete.”

  “Go ahead and send me what you have so far. I’ll just get started with that.”

  Amar inclined his head. “Happy to.”

  Gerard stood with a smile. “Excellent progress. Perhaps if you send the results sooner next time, I w
on’t need to intrude upon you.”

  Amar smiled in return, extending his hand. “Of course, Gerard. Although it is always wonderful seeing you.”

  Gerard shook Amar’s hand. “No need to show me out. Enjoy your wine.”

  Amar narrowed his eyes as Gerard closed the door behind him. Bastard. He glanced back at the hard copy on the side table. The key. So cleverly hidden.

  Amar’s eyes strayed back to the window, his anger only rising. So, they were checking up on him. He needed to work off some of his rage. If he didn’t, he was likely to do something rash. And he didn’t have time for the cleanup.

  His eyes came to rest on the barn and he smiled. And I know just the thing.

  CHAPTER 36

  Laney watched Victoria. Her hair was pure white but her skin had few wrinkles. Her eyes were the same deep violet as Henry’s. Did that mean that James Chandler had green eyes? Was that where Laney had gotten hers?

  Victoria’s cheekbones were pronounced. Did Laney share those? It was hard to sit still when she wanted to run to a mirror. Laney pushed her curiosity out of her mind. There’d be time to play “who got what genetic traits from which parent” later. But it was still a struggle to rein in her thoughts and focus on what Victoria was saying.

  Victoria glanced across the group. “You are all aware of the Fallen, of their existence.” She waited until everyone nodded back at her. “Generally, they keep to themselves, they build their own power base, eventually die, and then start all over again.”

  “Why is that?” Patrick interrupted. “Why start from scratch each time? Why not start where they left off?”