“I’ve never seen news travel as fast as this.” Remy’s voice was as light and airy as his appearance suggested. “We haven’t met a nomad yet who’s not upset by it. If Zenas is going after Amaia, what’s to keep him from going after one of us? We all thought paying tribute to hunt in his territories would keep him agreeable and us safe. When he put a price on Amaia’s head the first time, we all understood. We wanted her dead as well. Exposing us to a human, refusing to turn him—it was the worst kind of offense.”
Michael growled in the back of his throat before he could stop himself and leaned forward.
Remy raised his hands in front of him, palms outward. “I mean no disrespect. I’m just telling you the truth of the matter. What she did was wrong. Even so, as much as we despised the act and wanted her dead, we weren’t much willing to act. After all, she wasn’t really a threat. We all knew she wasn’t endangering the rest of us, so we didn’t much care other than to stroke our own moral superiority over the great Amaia. Not so this time.”
“That’s what I need you to make me understand. What’s different?”
“You are. She turned you. You’re a vampire now, and unless she’s revealed our kind to someone else we don’t know about, there’s no crime here to punish. Zenas has no claim over Amaia. She’s not part of his clan. Even when she fought for him, there was never any secret made of the fact that her loyalties weren’t to the clan. Zenas only kept her close because of her power and because he didn’t have the mind link with her. She left the clan. She has committed no crime. Yet Zenas wants her dead so badly he’s placed a price on her head that he’s willing to pay out to any vampire, even one from a rival clan, who kills her. If that was the end of it, we still might be able to overlook it, but the fact that he’s also ordered the deaths of any vampire who’s helped her and put a price on their heads is so outside his authority that we can’t stomach it.”
“I didn’t know that much had been made public. Lawrence told me Zenas wouldn’t stop until everyone who aided me was dead, but I didn’t know he’d put a price on their heads as well.”
“To be honest, I think that’s what’s got the nomads most concerned, but the story is spreading, and it’s gaining momentum. There’s always been an air of mystery about you, Amaia. We all hate the idea of banding together for anything. We don’t want to imprison ourselves in the very thing we’re trying to abolish, but the fact is that we must if we’re going to take this chance to undo the clans. You serve as a good rallying point. Our people can get behind you, they respect you, and they know you have no desire for power. If you did, you would have stayed with Lawrence and toppled Zenas from the inside, which would be much easier than this convoluted path you’ve taken.”
“I can’t lead anyone.” Amaia shook her head. “I don’t care about any of this other than that it’s preventing me from living in peace with my mate.”
“Which is why we’re confident that if we rally around you, you’ll go live that peaceful life with your mate when it’s done.” Alice locked eyes with Amaia, her gaze communicating as much as her words did.
“So how would you suggest we proceed?” Liam directed his question to Alice, but she looked to Remy to answer it.
“We don’t have that answer. We came here to offer you our help and support, to see what you would like us to do.”
Silence fell. Michael’s mind whirled with this new knowledge. The fire that lit Remy’s eyes as he spoke outshone the similar flame he’d seen in Liam’s. These weren’t idle grumblings. He agreed that if there was anyone they could rally around, it would be Amaia. She had a natural ability to draw people to her. Michael wasn’t the only one who could see her greatness. She could be their standard-bearer.
He still didn’t like the idea of placing her in danger, but he was beginning to see how there might be a real chance to permanently end the threat against them. Even if Amaia was wrong and Zenas did tire of her, they would constantly have the threat looming over them. He couldn’t let that mar their eternity together if an alternative existed.
“We could try to kill Zenas. The six of us could get close enough to do it.” Brave words from such a mousy creature as Alice.
Michael shook his head. “If this is really the opportunity you make it out to be, then we can’t squander it. I won’t place Amaia at risk for something so small. Killing Zenas will only create a power vacuum. It won’t solve the real problem. It’s not worth it. However, if we can gain the support you seem to think we can, we could rally together and kill not only Zenas but his inner circle—anyone who could take power. Then we move on to the other clans until the entire system is destroyed.”
“We all want Zenas dead,” Alice said, “but it’ll be hard to convince anyone to kill the others.”
“No one wants Zenas dead because of personal issues with him. We all want to see him dead because, as the leader of the most powerful clan, he represents everything we hate. Once he’s dead, we won’t be satisfied. Michael’s right, just killing him isn’t worth the risk.” Liam sat back in his chair, arms folded. He would have appeared relaxed except for the dark anger gathering in his eyes, out of reach of his voice.
Remy seemed lost in those eyes, contemplating his reply. Now that Michael had allowed this hope to spring inside him, he wanted Remy to join them with a fierceness that stunned him.
Finally, Remy nodded. “I can see the wisdom in that.”
Michael turned to his wife. “What do you think, Amaia?”
She surveyed everyone in the room. It reminded Michael of the times at the court of King James when she would run her eyes over the crowd, knowing the influence she exerted—an influence she possessed but took no personal pleasure in except for once: when she had convinced the king to release Michael from a royal betrothal and grant him permission to marry her instead. In order to accomplish what they proposed, she would need to want to exert her influence for her own reasons. It was too great a task to undertake merely to satisfy others.
After a moment, she faced Michael. “No more running. It’s time we turned and fought.”
“So what now?” A nervous excitement lit Meg’s eyes that Michael had never seen before.
“We need to start gathering supporters,” Liam said.
Remy stood. “Alice and I can start spreading the word. We have quite a few friends who were interested in the outcome of this meeting. We’ll solicit their support first, and if we get it—which I have no doubt we will—they’ll start recruiting as well.”
“Thank you, friend.” Liam rose and shook Remy’s hand. Michael followed his lead. Within a minute, the two vampires were gone.
“How are we going to communicate with them?” Gaining supporters served no purpose if they couldn’t all be directed as one.
Meg smiled at him. “We have our ways. Nomads have always been good at keeping in touch when we want to. It’s how news of Zenas’s decision traveled so fast. The real question is, what’s our next move?”
“I think it’s time we visit Marcus and Jacob.”
“Who are they?” Michael had never heard Liam speak those names before.
“They’re influential amongst the nomads, mainly because each of them is as ancient as Zenas, and neither ever sought power.”
“How old is Zenas?”
Meg answered him. “No one really knows. He comes from Egypt back during the time of pharaohs. Some say he saw the Great Pyramids built. His sire was supposedly a Greek vampire, which is why his name is Greek.”
“Whatever happened to his sire?”
“Rumor has it he murdered him,” Liam said.
“What?” Amaia’s surprise interested Michael.
“You didn’t know?” Liam asked.
“Of course she didn’t. Amaia’s never indulged in gossip like the rest of us, despite my many efforts to corrupt her,” Meg said.
“I never really cared. Now that you mention it, though, I suppose it doesn’t really surprise me. I’m only surprised I didn’t know.”
Michael wasn’t. “Lawrence wouldn’t want to plant any ideas in your head, I’m sure.”
“He never hid the fact that he’d be willing to kill Zenas, but he always emphasized that it would only be as a last resort to preserve his plans for a master race of vampires.”
“We’ve wandered from the point.” Liam drew their attention. “Marcus and Jacob won’t respond to a message. We must go to them, present our case, and see if they’ll join with us. If they do, we’ll be more than halfway there.”
“Where are they?” Michael asked.
“Last I heard, they were outside of London somewhere. They won’t be hard to find.”
“It comes full circle then.” Nostalgia hung thick in the air as Amaia spoke. “This all started in London. It’s about time we returned.”
Chapter 23
It occurred to Michael as he ran to wonder how Amaia knew her way so well. Some instinct must guide her, one that he lacked or would perhaps develop over time.
The four of them traveled in silence. Amaia didn’t even speak to his mind. Something about having a shared purpose united the four of them and made the silence comfortable. Michael enjoyed the opportunity to focus on the sounds and smells and sights around him. Running took almost no thought. His body naturally reacted to every change in terrain, his reflexes so sharp he didn’t even notice them working.
After what felt like a short time but must have been many hours, a sound that Michael hadn’t heard in years floated to him. At this distance, the roar of the waves was reduced to a gentle humming, but he could never mistake it. Part of him longed for the sea. Strange how that had stayed with him all this time while fancies from other lives didn’t stick.
Not long after the familiar sound reached his ears, Amaia slowed. They’d kept a steady pace away from the roads so they wouldn’t be seen. She must think there was a chance they’d be spotted.
“Where are we?” Michael asked.
“You don’t recognize it?”
Michael looked around him. The landscape did strike him as familiar. Just as his mind began to place it, reaching back to a lifetime that lay shrouded from both his mortal and immortal memory, they came upon a manor house. Michael’s jaw dropped.
“I was here the night you were born. I lay on the roof and peered inside your nursery window.”
“You’ve told me.” That life was the first one in which he’d dreamed about Amaia. Looking back, he supposed it probably had something to do with that being the first life during which she’d watched him.
“I wanted so badly to kill your parents that night, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I worried that it would harm you.”
Michael knew that would have been a difficult allowance for her to make. Raised as an orphan, she didn’t hold much stock in parents. “I’m glad you didn’t. They were good to me, especially my mother.”
“Yes, you’ve always been fortunate when it comes to mothers.”
“I have.”
“As nice as this is, we have somewhere to be.” Liam’s gruff voice came from behind them. It was a concession on his part that he hadn’t spoken sooner.
“You’re right. How are we going to cross the Channel?” Michael could navigate the Channel with his eyes closed, but they would need a boat.
“We swim, of course.” Amaia’s face lit with the glee of telling him something unexpected.
“Swim?”
“You know how, don’t you?”
“Yes, or at least I used to. I haven’t swum in this body before.”
“It’ll be fun.”
Michael could see how that could be given the right conditions, but if a storm blew in, the water could become deadly. “It isn’t safe.”
Meg laughed. “We don’t have to breathe, so we can’t drown.”
Of course. Apparently, Michael’s human instincts hadn’t completely disappeared with his transformation.
“I’ve made the swim many times.” Amaia took his hand, and they headed to the shore.
“You have?”
“Yes. You’ll love it.”
Michael knew he would. He already relished the feel of the salt in the air, the smell of the ocean that had always meant home to him no matter how far he traveled from it. His heightened senses only made him fall in love with it all the more.
They swam underwater to avoid being seen. Without the need for air, swimming beneath the surface was easier. The waves couldn’t knock them to and fro. Initially, the salt water stung his eyes, but it served as nothing more than an annoyance. Michael had swum plenty in the Channel in past lives, but he’d never been able to see the underwater creatures as he did now. The colors of the fish, even muted by the dark water, startled him. He wanted to catch one and bring it to the surface to see how the sun would play against its scales.
On their way across, Michael realized Amaia’s sense of direction hadn’t been instinct; it was memory. She’d traversed this path many times. Throughout her existence, she’d crisscrossed Europe. While Michael had lived in many places over the centuries, he’d only really traveled between places on land during the one life he’d spent running with Amaia. At the time, he’d been much too absorbed in other matters to take much notice of the places they visited.
The current, while strong against a human, barely pulled at Michael as he swam. That and the lack of changing scenery caused time to pass at a deceptive speed. Before it even occurred to him to wonder how much longer it would take, Amaia surfaced.
When Michael’s head broke the water, the white cliffs of Dover greeted him, majestic and gleaming in the sunlight. Their crown of green foliage stretched vivid against the white. His chest tightened. Calais may have housed his body during one of his lives, but Dover would always be home. Those white cliffs had welcomed him even during periods of his life when he hadn’t wanted them to. At the time, he had thought all he wanted was a life at sea. That hadn’t been a lie, but a part of him had always yearned for this special place despite his avoidance of it due to the responsibility it represented. Even before his brother had died, making him the baron, he had resented the idea that his family demanded something more respectable of him than manning a ship. Given the perspective of time, he wondered how much of those demands had been imagined on his part. He’d wager a great deal. In the end, his family had proved to only want his happiness.
“Are you all right?”
Michael looked to where Amaia was treading water to his right. “Yes. I just hadn’t thought ahead to seeing Dover. It hit me harder than I would have thought.”
“You’ve always loved this place.”
Meg and Liam already waited on the beach. Michael swam in their direction, joining them within a minute. He couldn’t delay the group by indulging his memories.
“We need to ask around, see where Marcus and Jacob are. You two might as well stay in Dover. It shouldn’t take us long, but there’s no reason you can’t spend some time in your old home.” Meg’s offer typified her generous personality, but Liam didn’t seem as keen on the idea, and Michael understood why.
“Thanks, Meg, but it’s safer to stay together. Once this is all over, I can spend as much time here as I like.”
Meg shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
As they made their way through Dover, Michael couldn’t help looking around him at the sites that had changed so much since he’d lived there yet still retained a certain familiarity, as if the ground itself called out a greeting at his return.
It occurred to him that, while he had no direct descendants, in all likelihood he had relatives still living in the area. His mother and sister-in-law would be long dead, but what had ever happened to his nieces? Had they married and borne children? Did their line continue? Who took care of them after he died? After he died the first time, he hadn’t regained his memory in his next life. By the time he had remembered his life in Dover, it had been so long that he hadn’t given it much thought. His nieces would have been dead by then.
When matters w
ith Zenas were resolved, he’d do some research and see what he could find. Or perhaps his curiosity would not be well rewarded. He’d discuss it with Amaia at some point.
Meg and Liam found a pair of vampires they knew in a cottage outside of Dover and inquired about Marcus and Jacob’s whereabouts. Michael didn’t pay much attention to the pair. He and Amaia had hung back, not wanting to appear threatening by outnumbering them in close quarters. They’d only stayed a few minutes anyway. It wouldn’t do them any good to spread word of their plan until they knew whether or not they could count on the support of the more influential vampires.
“We’ve had our first bit of luck,” Meg said in her perpetually cheerful voice. “They say Marcus and Jacob have been staying around the Crawley area lately.”
Michael hadn’t let himself think too far ahead, but relief overwhelmed him at Meg’s words. London would certainly have representatives from Zenas’s clan. Even going near the city would be dangerous for them. Crawley lay far enough to the south that whoever had charge of London wouldn’t be concerned with it. However, it was close enough that no other vampires from Zenas’s clan would be there.
If there were vampires searching for them, they weren’t likely to search around London. Their last known whereabouts were in Paris, and if Amaia was thought to have fled, people wouldn’t think she’d go to London, her original home. She wasn’t fool enough to return to such an obvious place. Supposedly.
Chapter 24
Amaia had never been to Crawley. Her time in England had been spent almost exclusively in London or at the country estates of the nobility. No memories lurked in these streets.
Marcus and Jacob worked as undertakers, operating their own funeral business. Marcus looked as if he’d been in his late forties when he was transformed, while Jacob appeared barely twenty. Amaia knew better than to make the silly assumptions humans would based on appearances. She’d wager Jacob was the older of the two.
Immortal Echoes (Haunting Echoes Book 2) Page 14
