by Lynne Ewing
The glass door opened and Cassandra entered, pulling a rush of cool air with her. She saw Stanton and waved, then walked along the counter, her hand brushing over the backs of the empty seats.
She sat down next to him. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair smelled of the night cold.
“I’m been looking all over for you.” She was shivering as if she had been out walking for a long while.
He handed her his cup of coffee. She closed her eyes and sipped. When she finished, she set the cup on the saucer, took something from her pocket and handed it to him.
He looked down and saw the ring. “What did you do to Serena?”
She seemed puzzled. “I didn’t do anything to Serena. Why would you think that?”
“The ring.” He held it up. “How did you get it?”
“Serena’s fine.” She brushed his concern away, but there was a trace of jealousy in her voice. “I followed them back to Planet Bang. I wanted to tell them I was sorry. I knew they’d think I had set them up, but I really hadn’t this time.”
He was surprised by her admission. “Be careful,” he said. “Or you might become a nice person again.”
“Like when you first met me?” she quipped.
A pang of guilt shot through him, but he nodded. “Like when I met you.” She had been a good student with two loving parents. The kind of person he liked to bend and turn to the Atrox. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
She looked at him oddly and shrugged. “I liked being a Follower. Anyway,” she continued, “I found Serena in the bathroom. She took off the ring to splash water on her face and I just happened to be standing nearby.”
Stanton realized he hadn’t looked at Serena’s hand when he had met her outside Maggie’s apartment. He wondered why she had been so careless with it. He didn’t like the answer that came to mind.
“I knew immediately it was the ring,” Cassandra went on.
“The ring?” Stanton asked. “How do you know about the ring?”
She took it from him and moved it back and forth until the stone caught the light. “Lambert had been desperate to find it. He thought you must still have it. So when I saw it, I picked it up.”
“Didn’t Serena notice that the ring was gone?” he asked.
“No.” Cassandra cocked her head, then took another sip of his coffee before she spoke. “She was too upset over losing Catty. Or,” she added slyly, “maybe the ring became a symbol of someone she would rather forget.” She stopped and stared at him. “Sorry.”
Stanton nodded. “I know. You didn’t say anything I haven’t already thought.”
“She shouldn’t blame you. If she understood what risks you’d been taking—” She stopped and eyed the ring. “I thought you’d be happy to have your ring back.”
“It’s Serena’s now,” he said. “I’ll give it back.”
Cassandra seemed surprised. “Don’t you want to know what the ring can do for us? If Lambert wants it so badly it must have huge power.”
Stanton shook his head. “Not the kind of power you think.”
“Then what?” she asked, staring at it. “Why is it so important?”
“He must think it has powers that it doesn’t have.” Stanton took the ring from her.
“But he said the ring could destroy his enemies,” Cassandra insisted.
“It only has power to protect against evil,” Stanton explained. “It will destroy any evil person who wears it.”
Cassandra tilted her head as if considering. “So you’re protected from Followers as long as you wear the ring.”
“Even the Atrox can’t harm you,” he added.
“That’s why Lambert wants it then,” Cassandra concluded. “To protect himself from the Atrox.”
Stanton looked into her eyes. “If Lambert puts the ring on his finger, it will consume him.”
“Kill him?” Her eyes seemed too eager.
Stanton corrected her. “Destroy his body only. Remember he’s a member of the Inner Circle. He wears the Phoenix crest.”
She shuddered. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like if he were only spirit, unhampered by a body.”
“We’ll never have to find out,” Stanton assured her. He put two dollars on the counter and started to stand. “I’m going to take the ring to Serena.”
“You think she’ll wear it?”
Stanton looked down at her. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
“I think you should wear it.” Cassandra leaned forward and touched his finger lightly. “You’re in greater danger than she is.” Then she stood, took his hand, opened it, and picked up the ring gingerly. “At least keep it someplace safe.” She dropped it in his shirt pocket and patted his chest.
“Good luck,” he whispered and started to leave, but she grabbed his arm and made him turn to her.
“It’s dangerous for you here, Stanton.” She ran her hands up his chest. “But if you wanted to go away, I’d go with you.”
“Cassandra, what would you want with me now?” He felt baffled by her persistence.
“I like you, Stanton,” she answered. “I always have.”
“But I’m no longer an Immortal.” He took her hands away from his chest. “I’m not even a Follower.”
“So what?” she pouted.
“What use do you have for me now?” he asked.
“We have the ring,” she offered. “It could protect us and if you’d just give me a chance, I know we’d be great together.”
“You and I had our chance already,” he explained, trying to keep irritation from his voice.
Tears crept to the corners of her eyes anyway. She didn’t try to hide how much his rejection hurt her. “I’ll miss you, Stanton.”
He handed her a napkin from the counter. “Don’t cry.”
She wiped her eyes and lifted her head hopefully as if she were expecting a kiss.
“I’m sorry, Cassandra.” He hurried away from her then and left Jan’s. He walked out into the cool air, climbed into his car and drove over to Serena’s house. She only lived a few blocks away.
He parked his car, then patted his pocket. The ring was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
STANTON THOUGHT THAT maybe he had lost the ring. Then he recalled the way Cassandra had dropped it in his pocket and patted his chest. He was sure she had it. He could go back to Jan’s but Cassandra would have left the restaurant by now. Instead he walked down the alley behind Serena’s house. At the edge of her yard, he scaled the trunk of a beech tree, swung onto a branch, and climbed until he could see in her bedroom window. Serena and Jimena were leaning across the bed. Vanessa was lying between them, her face in a pillow.
Then a soft hiss filled the night air. Leaves bristled, caught in a strange magnetic storm. A silver-blue vapor poured from a shadow and Lambert landed on his feet near the tree, his cape settling around him.
Even in the thick darkness Stanton could see the merciless predator in Lambert’s eyes. He clung to the tree and tried to control the look of prey in his own.
Lambert stretched one arm to his side, fingers spread wide. Ribbons of power arced from the palm, creating a whirlwind of light that circled Stanton, sucking him down. The tree shook from its intensity.
His feet slipped as his hands struggled to hold onto the branch above him but the force was too great. He fell, landing hard on his back with a thud. He felt numb with defeat before the battle had even begun. Then he remembered his father. He had told Stanton that a good knight never refused a fight simply because the odds were against him. In such times he was more likely to engage in combat. As a boy he had watched his father face four armed men at the same time. Stanton wondered where his father had found the strength.
“First you, then Serena,” Lambert promised and looked up at the bedroom window. “She won’t expect my attack tonight.”
Stanton pulled himself up with new strength. He understood now the source of his father’s bravery. It had come from his need to protect
Stanton, the same way Stanton now wanted to save Serena. His knees felt weak and his back throbbed but he staggered forward. “Leave Serena alone,” he said.
Lambent laughed at his feeble attempt. “Do you really think you have a chance against me?”
Stanton nodded, hoping to goad Lambert into attacking him. If he could, maybe the commotion would alert Serena and she and her friends could escape.
Lambert smiled derisively, but he didn’t strike. Perhaps he had sensed Stanton’s plan. He pulled Stanton back behind a line of oleander bushes.
“You won’t get more from me,” Stanton taunted him. “I won’t show you the pleasure of a chase or show you fear. I can deny you that at least.”
But instead of striking, Lambert stepped away as if he were trying to contain himself.
“I went to the Atrox tonight.” His hate and anger made his breath shimmer in the air with a cold white glow. “I reported that you had become a renegade. That you had been so weak, the Daughters had been able to take you back to their side. I asked for permission to destroy you and make you an example to other inviti. In exchange I would bring in the key.”
“Just destroy me,” Stanton taunted him again. “I don’t need to hear about your great triumph.”
Lambert turned on him. “You should have been my reward for destroying the goddess Catty.” His voice was low and filled with resentment. “That was all I wanted. Permission to do whatever I pleased with you.”
Stanton wondered why Lambert hadn’t been given permission, but before he could consider it, Lambert answered his thoughts.
“You wonder?” He smirked. “I’ve wondered all these centuries. I offered to deliver the key this very night but the Atrox wanted you! Is it any wonder I’ve had to make plans for my own fate?” He seemed suddenly aware of his treasonous words. His eyes darted around, searching the shadows.
Stanton looked, too, but the dark seemed natural. “Why would it want me back?” Stanton asked. This had to be more trickery. Some part of Lambert’s plan to overthrow the Atrox.
“Why?” Lambert stared at him. “I ask myself the same. Why are you the protected son? Are you so critical to the cause? I’m the one who let the Atrox take you but it never rewarded me. It saved the position I wanted for you. Even now it’s so eager to have you back. What secret do you hold?”
He clutched Stanton’s neck, his fingers bitter cold. The nails dug into his skin, squeezing tighter as he told Stanton his plan. “I’ll bring you back so the Atrox won’t doubt my intent, but I’ll leave you trapped in my memories until I’ve taken Serena over. Her allegiance will be to me, of course. Will that be enough to make you join me against the Atrox?”
Stanton struggled against his hold. “Serena will never be loyal to you,” he choked out.
“I have my ways,” Lambert countered confidently. “She will. I promise.” His fingers pinched tighter and he drew Stanton closer, forcing Stanton to look into his eyes.
The dark pupils were compelling. Stanton was drawn in. He wanted nothing but the peace promised there. Without warning, he felt himself spinning through a black void. His hands tried desperately to grab onto something, but there was nothing to hold.
He fell and landed on hard stone. He shook his head and realized he was back in his father’s castle. Lambert had trapped him in a memory. He wondered how long he would be held captive there and then another thought came bursting forward, one that made his heart swell. He could see his father again and his mother as well. He started running, when a voice spoke.
“You would like this memory, wouldn’t you?” Lambert mocked him. “Let’s find a more important one. Perhaps my memory of the night the Atrox stole you from your home.”
The castle vanished and Stanton was drifting in the void again.
The sound of running footsteps filled the black space around him. He wondered where he was going next, but then Lambert released his hold. Stanton fell to the ground. He blinked and looked up. He was back outside Serena’s house.
Footsteps crunched over the gravel in the alley. Leaves rustled and Cassandra stepped from the darkness.
“Stanton won’t tell you his secret,” Cassandra said rapidly. “But I will.” She sounded as if she had been running. Had she followed him from Jan’s?
Lambert turned and looked at her.
She held up the ring.
Light from his eyes shot through the stone and illuminated Cassandra’s face with a pink glow.
“The ring,” Lambert said with awe.
“The power of the ring is what made Stanton favored by the Atrox,” Cassandra said boldly.
“That’s not true,” Stanton said, pushing himself off the ground.
Cassandra continued quickly, “He wouldn’t have told you. He would have gone to his death first because he doesn’t want you to have the power that the ring holds.”
“Of course, the ring.” Lambert lifted it. “How did you find it?”
“I stole it from Serena,” Cassandra announced proudly. “Stanton had given it to her tonight.”
Lambert considered this. “That’s why my assault didn’t harm her. The ring protected her.”
Stanton suddenly understood what Cassandra was trying to do. He had to stop her. “Don’t put it on,” Stanton warned Lambert.
“You don’t want me to wear it, Stanton?” Lambert lifted his finger to slip on the ring.
“Don’t,” Stanton yelled. “The ring will destroy you.”
“He doesn’t want you protected the way Serena was,” Cassandra coaxed. “With the ring you’ll have more than enough power to overthrow the Atrox. Stanton knows that. He doesn’t want you to succeed. He’s jealous.”
“She’s lying!” Stanton tried to grab the ring away.
Lambert slipped the ring on his finger. Instantaneously, his mouth curled in pain. He tried to remove the ring but already his skin was melting around the band, gluing it to his flesh. His body began to wither.
“We won! We did it!” Cassandra laughed victoriously.
Stanton shook his head. “You don’t understand what you’ve done, Cassandra.”
“Won?” Lambert asked, his voice gritty now, as if it were difficult for him to speak.
“The ring can’t give a Follower power, Lambert,” Cassandra said gleefully.
Frightened eyes stared back at them from behind sagging lids that seemed to be fusing into his cheekbones.
“It can only destroy evil.”
Lambert glanced up at Stanton with understanding. “Protegas Innocentes et Deleas Malum,” Lambert’s voice rasped as his lips dissolved, exposing teeth and jawbone. “Your father’s coat of arms. Protect the innocent and destroy the evil. The inscription in the ring only reads Protegas et Deleas. Protect and destroy.”
Stanton nodded.
Skin and flesh shrank from Lambert’s bones and his skeleton turned to dust. The evil that had been in human form spiraled into the night air with a horrible screech.
Cassandra and Stanton covered their faces against the sudden storm. Leaves, dust, and gravel swirled around them.
Lambert’s spirit ripped into Stanton’s mind. I’ll see Serena dead and use her body since you’ve taken mine. Then I’ll also have the powers of the key. You should have joined me. Now it’s too late.
Then the night was still. Dust and leaves settled around them. Stanton grabbed Cassandra. “Do you see what you’ve done? You didn’t destroy him.” Stanton felt defeated.
Fear crept into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Lambert is part of the Inner Circle!” Stanton said. “He wore the crest of the Phoenix.”
“So?” Cassandra looked confused.
“They are more enduring than Immortals or other members of the Inner Circle. Even if something happens to their bodies, their spirits live on.” Then a sudden thought came to him. He stared at Cassandra in disbelief. “But you knew. You knew he wouldn’t be destroyed and yet you urged him to put on the ring anyway. Why did you give him the ring? He’s t
oo powerful for us to fight now.”
She hesitated.
“Tell me,” he urged.
“I knew,” she confessed finally. “But there was no other way I could get you back.”
Stanton shook his head and waited for her explanation.
“With his body gone, he’d have to find a new one, and I knew his hate for you would drive him to take Serena’s.” Her eyes glistened with tears. “I want Serena out of the way because I need you, Stanton.”
“You’ll never have me!” Stanton snapped.
A startled cry made him turn. He ran around the oleander bushes and looked up at Serena’s room. The French doors on the balcony blew open. He started running toward the house.
“Come back and find the ring,” Cassandra yelled, as if she understood what he was going to do.
He ignored her and kept going.
“You can’t fight Lambert’s spirit as a mortal!” Cassandra screamed. “Not without the ring!”
“Watch me,” Stanton yelled back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ROSE THORNS STUCK in Stanton’s palms as he climbed up the trellis next to Serena’s balcony. Light from her bedroom cast a thin orange glow over the glossy leaves. He reached the railing and clasped it, but as he lifted his leg over, an explosive force stunned him. A bolt of air snapped his head back. He cried out and fell over the rail. As he tumbled backward, he grabbed onto a bar with one hand and dangled, his fingers slipping on the slick iron. He swung his body and his free hand found another bar and held on.
You’re not a great knight like your father. Lambert’s contemptuous voice filled his mind. You should have been prepared for my attack.
Stanton worked his feet back to the trellis, then his hands. The strike from Lambert left a fiery pain inside his head. He clung to the latticework and rested against the prickly vine until the dizziness passed, then he started up again. White rose petals fell over him.
The bedroom window above him shattered.
“Serena!” he yelled before he bent his face away from the shards of glass raining down.
No one answered his call. Quickly, he clambered up the trellis and over the railing. He peeked inside, searching for evidence of Lambert’s presence. When he saw nothing, he eased into Serena’s room. Her pet raccoon, Wally, brushed against his leg as if it needed comfort and reassurance.
