by Lynne Ewing
“Serena!” he yelled, then he glanced in the side-view mirror. His eyes glowed phosphorescent. He stepped back, defeated, as the car pulled away.
Serena turned and looked at him from the passenger’s side window. He saw something new in her eyes. Contempt.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE CAR SPED AWAY. Stanton watched until the taillights became invisible and only the exhaust remained.
Cassandra walked over to him and whispered with victory in her voice, “The one person you love now despises you.”
Stanton looked down, defeated, and started walking.
“See how it feels?” Cassandra left the words trailing in the air.
He looked at the hate in her eyes and understood his fatal error. “What did you gain, Cassandra? Did you think with Serena out of the way that I could start to like you?”
“I don’t want your like,” she snapped back furiously. “I want your love. I did this for us.”
He shook his head. “Do you really think emotions are that easy?”
Determination settled over her face. “I’m patient,” she answered coyly. “Besides, you liked what you did. I saw you with Maryann. That’s what you are. A Follower. Why deny it for Serena? You’ll never be like her no matter how hard you try.”
He stepped into the shadows. He didn’t want to hear the truth.
She ran after him and grabbed his arm before he could disappear. “Serena kept you from being true to yourself. Don’t you understand? I needed to help you see what she was doing to you.”
He thought of Serena again and the way she had looked at him with loathing.
Cassandra rubbed his arm. “Are you ready to come back to us?”
Stanton shook his head. “Leave me alone, Cassandra.”
“There’s more,” Cassandra whispered softly. “I know someone who can convince you.”
Stanton heard footfalls. It had to be his imagination, but the night seemed to thunder with the sound of the steps. He turned. A man wearing a hooded cape walked slowly toward him.
Stanton tensed. He felt afraid. How long had it been since he had felt that emotion for himself ?
“Where did he come from?” Stanton asked. He should have felt the man’s approach or seen him before now.
Cassandra smirked. “Hell.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AS THE MAN STEPPED closer, Stanton recognized the Phoenix crest on his hood. Only the most powerful members of the Inner Circle were allowed to wear that emblem. The black wings and red flames on the chest of a beautifully plumed Phoenix represented the spirits of the netherworld. They were more enduring than Immortals. Even if something should happen to their bodies so that they couldn’t regenerate, their spirits would live on. Stanton had never met anyone who had been allowed to wear the crest.
The man started to remove his cape. He was taller than Stanton and had shoulder-length white hair. His hands were slender and long and there was something about the way his fingers gathered the silky cape that seemed familiar.
“This is Darius.” Cassandra spoke reverently. “The one I told you about. The one who said our love was destiny.”
The man turned, but his face remained in shadow. “Good evening,” he said. His voice pierced Stanton like a dagger, releasing a flood of long-forgotten memories.
“Lambert,” Stanton whispered with sudden recognition. The man standing before him might be called Darius now but his real name was Lambert Malmaris, the knight who had been charged with guarding him as a young boy.
Lambert stepped into the circle of light under the street lamp. A scar slashed down his right cheek. He handed his cape to Cassandra.
“So you still remember me after all these years, Stanton?” Lambert said in a soothing voice, a voice Stanton had listened to night after night as Lambert told him stories of great men and kings.
Stanton nodded, stunned. “The Atrox took you, too?” he asked carefully. “Is that why you couldn’t protect me?”
Lambert smiled as if Stanton had said something amusing, his eyes deep and penetrating. “No, Stanton, I did what you’ve always suspected. I abandoned you and left you for the Atrox.”
Stanton pressed his fingers against his chest, trying to ease the painful beat of his heart. “That can’t be true.” His words sounded jittery. “You were courageous and honorable—dedicated to service like all my father’s knights.”
Lambert walked closer to Stanton. “I decided to be dedicated only to myself.” He breathed deeply. “The knights in shining armor must adhere to rules that give them nothing in return. I wanted the world.”
Stanton shook his head. “The Atrox changed you. You weren’t—”
“But I was,” Lambert said darkly. “I became a Follower while I was still in service to your father.”
Stanton studied his face. Lambert hadn’t aged, but his features had taken on a harder edge. “Why?” Stanton asked finally.
“The Ordene de Chevalerie only enslaved me,” Lambert continued. “I knew the realities of knighthood. I joined with the Atrox to become a real member of the warrior elite. It was easy for me—you afforded me the perfect opportunity to become an Immortal.”
“I can’t believe my father trusted you,” Stanton said. “Or that I cared for you.”
Lambert nodded. “I know. You told me you wanted to grow up to be just like me…and you have.” His laughter echoed into the night.
Stanton realized now that Malcolm had been trying to warn him about Lambert, but had only managed to mutter what had sounded like Lamp. But what plan could Lambert have that involved him? He glanced at Cassandra and wondered if she knew.
She smiled back at him insolently.
Lambert placed an arm around Stanton, the way a father would to a beloved son. “Now it is time for you to become a member of the Inner Circle.”
Stanton pushed his arm away. “No,” he said simply. He could never trust Lambert again.
“Listen to what he has to say,” Cassandra coaxed. “You can’t refuse such a position of power.”
“You once valued my judgment,” Lambert stated.
“Once,” Stanton agreed bitterly.
“Think of the power you’ll have.” Lambert seeped into his mind and showed him a dizzy array of what he could become and do. His power of mind control was more than Stanton could ever have imagined. He felt hypnotized and fascinated. And then he saw a promise that pulled him deeper into Lambert’s mind. The anxiety would finally be over—he would no longer have to struggle internally. Only one side would reign supreme. He saw himself free, without guilt or conscience to restrain him.
“Invitus is a hard life,” Lambert said. “One foot in each world.”
But there was still the lingering doubt. What had Malcolm wanted to say?
Lambert read his thoughts. “Perhaps Malcolm came to you out of jealousy.”
“Jealousy?” Stanton started to laugh, but then something in Lambert’s eyes made him stop.
“He was a powerful Regulator after all,” Lambert went on. “But he failed to measure up. Perhaps he understood that you were next in line and he couldn’t bear to see another take his place. So he went to you, trying to plant that seed of doubt that is growing inside you even now. He didn’t want you to take what he felt was rightfully his.”
Stanton wondered if that could have been it. He saw such certainty in Lambert’s eyes. “But he died,” Stanton mused. “He was an Immortal and now he’s gone.”
“So sad,” Lambert said. “But enough of Malcolm. I see your thoughts. You’re wondering what you would have to do to enter the Cincti.”
Stanton nodded.
“Something so easy. So simple. The Atrox has been watching you. We all have,” Lambert assured him, and suddenly his comforting arm was around Stanton again, but this time he didn’t knock it away.
“We’ve all admired the way you’ve made the goddess fall in love with you,” Lambert continued.
Stanton stiffened.
“Don’t
be concerned,” Lambert said soothingly. “We don’t plan to destroy you or your goddess. Not after you’ve worked so hard to gain her trust.”
Stanton glared at Cassandra. “Serena no longer trusts me.”
“But her infatuation with you is still strong.” Lambert’s words were hypnotic. “And she wants to trust you again.”
“Does she love me?” Stanton wondered if Lambert had the power to go into Serena’s mind even at this distance.
Lambert nodded. “If you want her, all you need to do is bring her to the Atrox.” He gently placed a hand over Stanton’s mouth to stop his protests. “Hear me out first. There is time to answer. An eternity of time. Think with me.”
Lambert pulled Stanton into his mind. Suddenly, he saw everything so clearly. He knew Serena better than anyone. He had shared her deepest thoughts, her darkest memories and her best ones. Each weakness, each vulnerability. It would be so easy to take her to the Atrox. Isn’t that what he had always feared he would do anyway?
A sound distracted him and he wrenched away from Lambert’s gaze.
Cassandra was suddenly standing near them. “And me. Don’t forget me. I’ll be accepted back.”
Lambert raised a hand, silencing her.
Her interruption cast a shade of doubt over Stanton again. Lambert seemed to sense his renewed struggle.
“Cassandra is worried only for herself,” Lambert declared. “But you have more important concerns. You have to look at the entire universe, the balance between good and evil. Why must evil always be defined by good? Why not let it be the other way for once. Let people measure their good acts against evil ones. Shouldn’t we reign? We can, with your help.”
Stanton could feel the rightness in what Lambert was saying. His eagerness to obey seemed limitless.
“Think of Serena,” Lambert encouraged. “I saw you with her tonight.”
Stanton nodded.
“How can you love someone who doesn’t trust you?”
Stanton glanced at him, considering.
“Even I understood that what you did to Maryann tonight was only your attempt to protect Serena. But Serena didn’t even let you explain. Why is that?”
Stanton opened his mouth, but no answer came.
“You must remember that a goddess can never completely trust a Follower,” Lambert continued.
“Yes.” Stanton nodded.
“Deep down you have always known what you have to do, haven’t you?” Lambert didn’t wait for an answer but posed another question. “If she were a Follower and on our side, you would have her trust, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.” Stanton had never thought of it that way before.
Lambert went on. “And she has always kept your relationship hidden. She has never introduced you to her father or brother. Is she ashamed of her feelings for you?”
“I don’t know,” Stanton wondered.
Lambert’s voice was harsh. “Or has she been using you, Stanton?”
Stanton jerked his head around and stared into Lambert’s eyes. “Using me?”
“She’s the key,” Lambert answered. “And it works both ways. Maybe she has been using you to find a way to vanquish evil forever.”
“You think she’s been using me?” Stanton asked again.
Lambert nodded. “Isn’t it time to put aside your foolish infatuation with forbidden love and become a powerful leader?” Lambert asked, his hand reassuring and strong on Stanton’s back. “You were indomitable before you met her. Admired. Sought after. Strong.”
Stanton nodded. How could he have been so foolish for so long? He nodded again. If Serena loved him, why wouldn’t she turn to the Atrox? Then they could spend eternity together. It was such an easy solution. She was lecta already, chosen by the Atrox to receive its eternal life.
“That’s right,” Lambert whispered. “Once she is evil, you can have your bride.”
“What?” Cassandra’s anger abruptly split the air. “You said Stanton and I were destined to be together forever.”
Lambert raised his hand to silence her.
“That’s why I helped you!” Cassandra yelled furiously.
“Cassandra,” Lambert said ominously.
“That’s not what you promised me,” Cassandra seethed. “You told me—”
Lambert did something to Cassandra. She became quiet and her eyes looked dreamy and faraway. A slight smile crept over her lips as if she tasted something sweet.
“You can have your Serena,” Lambert repeated. “Once she turns to the Atrox. That is my promise to you. Bring her to me.”
“And if I don’t?” Stanton asked.
Lambert laughed. “Brave Stanton. You were always such a brave boy. If you don’t, Regulators will destroy you both. You think she’s protected because she’s a Daughter of the Moon? The only way she is protected now is if you bring her to me.”
Stanton turned the idea over in his mind but only for a moment. He could feel Lambert inside him searching through his turmoil.
Lambert read his thoughts. “You’re right, Stanton. You’ll lose her anyway if you don’t act. You’re an Immortal and Serena does not have much time left. And when she turns seventeen, what if she decides not to stay, what then? Why wait to see if she casts you aside?”
Stanton nodded. He didn’t want to lose her.
Lambert pulled him closer. “If you love her as you say, is there any other way?”
“No,” Stanton whispered.
“Then bring her to me,” Lambert urged.
“I will.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JIMENA, SERENA, CATTY, and Vanessa walked together under the thin branches of newly planted trees, their faces passing from sunshine to shadow and back. Stanton followed over their heads, a dark rip in the thready light.
“I can’t go with you today,” Jimena explained to Serena when they reached the bus stop. “I have to go to my grandmother’s house.”
“It’s all right,” Serena answered. She buttoned her denim vest against the late-afternoon chill.
“I tried to get out of it.” Jimena sighed. “But she’s making dinner for a quinceañera and needs my help.”
Stanton settled in a cloak of dark cast by a large truck. All week the other three Daughters had stayed close to Serena. They had even taken turns spending the night at Serena’s house. He hadn’t been able to catch her alone once.
“Don’t worry so much about me.” Serena picked up her cello case as the bus rolled to the curb. “I’ve walked home from my music lesson a million times.”
“But this is different,” Catty whispered and turned slowly, scanning the shadows. She seemed more nervous than the others. “I wish I didn’t have to go work in my mom’s store.”
“I’m okay,” Serena reassured Catty, then she turned to Vanessa. “And I really don’t need you to come with me to my lesson. If Stanton were going to do something, he would have already.”
Vanessa looked doubtful. “I got my bus pass out so I might as well go with you,” she stated. “I wish I could go home with you but I have to help my mom carry costumes over to the set where she’s working.”
“I can handle things.” Serena was getting irritated.
“We know,” Jimena answered, “but don’t get tough on us and fight him on your own. Promise?”
Stanton smiled at their suspicions.
“See you tomorrow,” Serena answered, ignoring Jimena’s question.
Vanessa and Serena climbed on the bus and waved good-bye.
Satisfaction settled inside Stanton. Serena would be walking home alone.
When the bus pulled away, Catty turned to Jimena. “I don’t like this.”
“Don’t say it,” Jimena warned. “Don’t even think it.”
“But—” Catty stopped and pulled her long coat tightly around her. “You’re right.”
Stanton became immediately alert. What was it that Jimena didn’t want Catty to say or even think? He pressed gently into the edges of Catty’s mind. She had
always been easier to read than the others, but now her mind was like concrete, her thoughts heavily guarded. He could use his power and force his way in, but then her moon amulet would sense his presence and begin to glow. He couldn’t risk that, not now, when he was so close.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Catty turned and started walking away, her boots heavy on the sidewalk.
“Yeah,” Jimena called after her. She sat down on the bench to wait for her bus and pulled her pink messenger bag onto her lap.
Stanton teased around her, flowing in and out of the shadows cast by others waiting for her bus. He needed to catch some tremor of thought. Then he sensed it. Her worry. Her face was set hard, her eyes not giving any emotion away, but he had found what he wanted. They had left Serena alone and Jimena felt concerned about it.
His heart filled with steely determination. Serena was his at last. He sped down Melrose Avenue, skating from shade to the deeper darkness along the north-facing shops. Papers fluttered and leaves trembled in his wake. Outside a dress boutique two girls turned, startled by the change in air he had caused. They glanced at each other and laughed.
The dark pretty one whispered, “Someone just walked over our graves.”
That made them laugh again, but Stanton sensed more. He twirled back and savored their fear. He wanted to drop into his body and become solid in front of them but he didn’t have time. Instead he whispered, “Death is riding on the wind.”
Their eyes shot open and he sucked in their terror.
“That’s not funny,” the darker one accused her friend.
“I didn’t say it,” the other one answered in a shaky voice.
He left them arguing and cut up the side of the building behind them. Anyone looking would have seen only a sliver of black that was there, then gone. He continued across the rooftop like a fragment of night until he found a deserted alley, where he became whole again.
Then he started walking to his car.
* * *
Two hours later, he stalked down the street a block from where Serena lived. She would be coming this way soon. The sun had set but the moon had not yet risen. The nearby houses were still dark, waiting for their owners to come home. He kicked at a brick in a garden path until it was loosened, then he picked it up and hurled it at the nearest streetlight. After the second try the glass shattered and darkness exploded around him.
