There was a knock at the door, and Martha popped out of her chair. “He’s here.” She patted her hair. “Do I look alright?”
“Who’s here?” It was eleven o’clock. Who would be coming to visit Martha at this hour?
“Mr. Varek.” She scurried around putting the coffee cups in the sink and straightening the placemats. “He’s renting the old farm manager’s cottage.”
Lily thought back to the latest correspondence she’d had from the lawyers. She did remember someone renting the cottage, but hadn’t given it any thought and before she could say anything else Martha had left the kitchen and opened the door.
“Mr. Varek,” she heard Martha say, “please come in. Oh, thank you, they’re beautiful. Did you grow them in your garden?”
Lily lagged behind. She hated to meet new people and yet she was curious to see the mystery man. When she rounded the corner there was Martha holding a bouquet of bright pink peonies.
“He has the most amazing green thumb.” Martha beamed.
Lily smiled. “I need to get back.”
“So soon,” Martha cooed.
The man was positioned so Lily couldn’t see his face, but something about him seemed familiar, and then he turned and she realized Mr. Varek was the Ancient.
Lucien
Lucien awoke in the belly of the plane taking them to Wyre Island. He hated planes almost as much as he hated politics. He was to be rid of one soon enough, as he could feel the aircraft circling around the small rocky island like a vulture eyeing a carcass.
They’d left Stoke in the early morning hours in order to arrive at dusk. There would be very little rest while the royal houses met. Standing at the back of the plane, he ran his thumb down the sharp edge of Dragon, his sword, and recalled one of his creator’s favorite sayings. “If you can’t fuck it, eat it. If you can’t do either, kill it.”
Things had been so much simpler when his creator was alive, and what Lucien wouldn’t do to have him here, alive, and with him. He stretched and wound his way up the plane’s spiral stairs into the cabin. Krieger’s back was turned to him as he spoke with the pilot. Lily was seated alone, looking out the window.
“How much longer until we land?” he asked no one in particular.
“We’re next in line,” the king said without looking back. “Just waiting on Carlos’ plane.”
“May I?” He pointed to the seat next to Lily.
She looked up, her eyes drifting over his sword, and picked up the book that had been lying on the seat.
He wondered how Thaddon Hall looked to her. He’d seen it many times before, but still felt a sense of awe at its structure. The island was but a mass of rocks piled high above the cold ocean waters. There was no vegetation, no animal life, nothing but the castle spiraling up to meet the sky. The builders had constructed the castle to hug the side of the cliff which lorded over half the island and instead of stopping when they reached the top, they’d continued until the castle and its six towers seemed to threaten the equilibrium of the isle.
“When was it constructed?” Lily asked.
“It was started around the third century.” Lucien placed Dragon on the bench in front of them and eased his body into the seat. Lily clutched the leather bound book in her lap. He’d noticed she’d been carrying it when they’d boarded the plane. “Some light reading?”
She looked down at it, blushed and then turned back to the window. “Something like that.”
“That’s the North Sea out there, and that way–” He pointed out towards the open ocean– “will take you to the Arctic Circle. It’s cold this time of year on the Scottish Isles. You won’t be doing any swimming on this trip.” He often watched her swim at Stoke Castle. The rhythm of her arms and legs slicing through the water never ceased to soothe him. The plane dipped to the right, giving them a better view of the castle. “The six towers represent the six Royal Houses of Vampire.”
Lily almost pressed her nose to the small window trying to see the whole structure. “The bottom half is so bulking looking and yet they built those delicate spires on top.” She moved slightly to the right so he could see out the window. “They look like candles on a birthday cake.”
“Midway through construction the builder died. His assistant took over for him and had ideas of his own about how the castle should look.”
“Oh.” Lily was clearly amused.
Lucien wanted to kiss her, here, now. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Krieger turning to watch them. “Those candles are called turrets.” Lucien leaned back in his seat and pointed. “See how each tower has a different royal standard?”
“Standard?”
“The flags.”
“Yes, I couldn’t see them before. Which one is for the House of Krieger?”
“There,” he said, pointing to the far tower. “The red one with the black border. You’ll be able to see it better once we’re inside the castle.”
“Please fasten your seatbelts for the final descent,” the pilot’s voice announced.
“I hate flying,” Lily whispered.
“As do I.” He wanted to comfort her, to speak to her with his mind, but he did neither. He castigated himself again for using his mental telepathy with Lily. What a foolish, reckless, and impulsive action, which he was still shocked that he’d done. More importantly, and something he’d wondered often, was how was it possible for him to communicate with her that way? It shouldn’t be. But something about Lily called to him, and over the past few months, Lucien had spent many hours in the skilled embrace of the ouleds trying to forget Lily, but no matter how many women he bedded, she was still the only one he truly wanted.
The landing was bumpy with too much wind and not enough runway, not that it mattered much to him or Krieger, both gifted with flight. He saw the relief on Lily’s face as the plane finally came to a stop, and as she peered out the window at Krieger’s royal guards lined up on either side of the stairs. Did she welcome their attendance for fear she would be harmed here, or worry that someone would try and harm the king?
Krieger was already outside speaking with the guards when Lucien followed Lily down the airstairs.
“Guard Lily,” Krieger barked, before flying with his personal guards towards the castle.
Lucien clenched his jaw. At times, he felt like the king was pushing him and Lily together. Perhaps it was a test to see if he was loyal. He turned to her, masking his irritation with humor. “Are you ready to storm the castle?”
She looked at the jeep and the windy road leading up to the bottom of the castle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…” She tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. “Would you mind taking me?”
He reached out his hand. “It would be an uncomfortable drive.”
“And an awful lot of stairs,” Lily added. She took his hand and stepped onto the tops of his feet, like a child would play dance with an adult.
Lucien took his time, flying slowly, holding her tight against his chest, pointing out the different royal towers as they went. He even stilled in midair so she could look at Krieger’s royal standard with its depiction of his longsword and the great ship that had brought him to the New World, until he felt her shivering with cold. Reluctantly, he dropped down, placing her feet onto the turret balcony, and separated from her. Lucien had heard the king’s words about Lily’s free will. He’d also seen the savage glare Krieger gave anyone that looked upon her too long.
She walked into the sitting room of her small suite; to her right were the bedroom and a small bath. She placed the leather bound book on a table and went to stand in front of the fire, rubbing her hands over her arms to warm herself.
“My room is through that door and Krieger’s is there.” Lucien pointed to his left. “Just outside that door are the stairs. They connect the different levels and chambers of Krieger’s tower until you reach the great hall below. Right now the royals are having a private meeting. Later there will be entertainment.”
“G
rigori, is he here?” Lily asked.
“No, not yet. When the Russian standard is raised he’s in residence.” He walked into her bedroom to make certain a fire had been laid for her, worried that she’d get a chill. He hadn’t expected her to follow him. “I should see to my own room.”
“Lucien.” She reached for his hand.
He took a step back from her. “You have nothing to fear. Thaddon Hall is sacrosanct. No harm shall come to anyone here.”
“I’m not afraid.” Lily moved closer to him.
He didn’t trust himself, not when her skin was flushed, her lips plump and red, her scent enveloping him like a warm blanket.
“I haven’t seen you much lately,” she said.
“The king’s business keeps me busy.”
“Lots of heads to lop off?”
His eyes traveled up to her face and saw no recrimination, in fact, she was suppressing a smile.
“So many subjects, so little time.”
Unable to hold back her laughter, it erupted and filled the room. “Really, why have you been gone?”
“Research.”
“The gates.” Her smile faded. “Why can’t we find anything useful?”
He didn’t want to lie to her. His “research” consisted of hunting and “interviewing” members of the Brotherhood. “We will. It’s just a matter of time.”
Lily sat on the bed, bounced a few times and then leaned back on her elbows.
I need to get out of here before I do something that can’t be undone.
“Do you enjoy everyone being afraid of you?”
Lucien blinked. Was she teasing him? He couldn’t tell by her expression. “You’re not afraid of me… Are you?”
“No, but I’ve heard the rumors about you.”
“Ah, well, court talk.” Lucien didn’t want to have this conversation. He turned his back on her and walked toward the door.
“Are you really cursed?”
He stopped and reached back to touch Dragon sheathed behind his left shoulder. “Cursed in what way?” Had she learned something from the archives? Were there tales of the curse Faye had laid upon his head sitting dusty upon the shelves? Is that what was written inside the book Lily had carried with her on the plane? Or was she just fishing? He couldn’t tell for sure.
“I don’t know. That’s all they’ll say. ‘The hand that wields the Dragon is cursed.’”
He relaxed. She knew nothing. “Never to my face.”
“No, they’d never risk saying it to you.” There was a rustle of bedclothes; she must have slipped off the bed. “If they knew you the way I do, they wouldn’t say such things.” He could hear her breathing behind him. “They whisper things about me too.”
He turned to face her. “What do they say?”
“I’m the cause of all the unrest.”
“You know that’s not true.” His fingers itched to touch her skin.
“Partly. You helped me, before, you know, to try and interact with Krieger’s subjects. I did try.” She wrapped her sweater tighter around her. “They don’t trust me.”
What she said was true. There was a faction of Krieger’s subjects that feared her influence on the king.
Lily’s hand rested on his arm. “I just wanted you to know that you can trust me, if you’d like to talk or anything.”
“I value your friendship.”
Lily reached out and placed her hand on his stomach. He’d just flown with her in his arms, but that was for a purpose. This contact was in her bedroom with no reason that he could discern. At least, nothing he would allow.
“Let me get this for you.”
His button had come undone. He felt nervous as a virgin groom on his wedding night. I should leave, now.
“Krieger and you are like brothers, Merlin is his advisor.” She brushed his shirt down flat and let her hands fall to her sides. He wanted to yank her back into his arms, but remained still as a marionette with no strings. “I’ve been thinking of telling Martha and Jo about all this.” She looked around the room. “The vampires, the Others, everything. I need their friendship.”
He knew loneliness well.
“Would it be selfish of me to tell them?” she asked.
“No. I think it would be good for you.” He gave her a wink, hoping to brighten her sad eyes. “And now, though I hate to do so, I must leave you,” he said and moved halfway to the door.
“Wait.” Lily had to run to catch up and block his path.
“Yes.” He fought his desire to cup her face in his hand.
“How do I turn on the lights?”
His chest relaxed. “Little mermaid,” he murmured. “You’ll have no electricity, but plenty of candles. The guards will see that they stay lit for you.” He indicated with his chin towards the bathroom. “Gravity will take care of the toilet. The large drum above the bathing tub is kept hot by the fire underneath it.”
“It’s nothing I’ve done, then?” she asked, and peered up at him. “The reason you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Just work.”
“Hmm. So work is why you watch me swim sometimes, but when I get out of the pool you’re gone.”
“A momentary break in my dull day to watch a beautiful mermaid.” This time he didn’t stop himself from cupping her face with his hand. Her hair, soft and silken, brushed against his knuckles. Just this once and never again, he told himself as he ran his thumb over her lower lip, plump and inviting as the berries he’d picked as a child. “Now, I must go.”
Before she could protest, he left and closed the door behind him. Gods forgive, but one day I may forget what I am.
Krieger
Self-appointed King Grigori was the last to take his place at the round table. He was a trim, youthful man with soft brown hair and eyes that reminded Krieger of a deer. There was nothing harsh or rough or human about him. There was no fear either. He was why everyone was here, he should be a little anxious, but he showed not one sign of anxiety as he casually took his seat, like he’d been here on numerous occasions before.
The six Royal Houses were now in attendance, closed off at the base of the castle inside a cavernous room. There were no wall hangings or items of interest, only two roaring fireplaces at either end of the long rectangular shaped space with candle-lit candelabras on the table and chandeliers above.
With no Elder to look to, there was an uneasy silence. Their eyes all said the same thing. Who should start the meeting?
Krieger inwardly groaned when King Carlos, the last Spanish Hapsburg, awkwardly pushed his chair back from the table and lifted his hulk of a body to lean against the table. He ruled South and Central America along with Mexico. His territory was large, but sparsely populated with Others and vampires. The Inquisitions and a still highly superstitious human population made his area less desirable.
“Now that we are all here…” Carlos eyed Grigori. “I propose that we start with the demise of the Elder.”
“Carlos,” Queen Merneith of Africa said softly. She remained seated with her hands placed face down on the wooden table. “We have already agreed on an agenda.”
“I was not told this.” Carlos’ eyes narrowed. “Is my claim to Spain on this agenda? The Elder was going to cede it to me. By rights it should be mine.”
King Beline flared his fangs but said nothing. Whenever he had the chance Carlos brought up Spain. It was an old and tiresome protest. It would take war to separate Beline from any of his European territory.
Queen Pao was turned vampire in her fifties, in a time when most humans died in their late twenties. China, Japan, and Indonesia were her territories and she’d ruled over them for close to a thousand years. Hers was the longest reign of all the vampires in attendance, and she had no patience for Carlos’ constant whining. “Unless you’d rather discuss the three vampires you’ve made in the last four months.” She tapped her talon of a fingernail on the table. “Didn’t we agree that no new vampires were to be sired without council approval?” She flashe
d her blackened teeth at him, stained from betel chewing before she was turned. “Then let us follow our agenda and discuss the death of Queen Ekaterina of Russia.” She turned her perpetually bloodshot eyes on Grigori. “And your rise to power.”
“Surely such awe-inspiring beings as you would not fear me.” Grigori had a honeyed voice to go along with his passive exterior. “As I have communicated, the queen did not die by my hand. It is my understanding that King Krieger’s brother helped Ekaterina to her final death.”
“Henry was out of his mind when I saw him last. He spoke of witches who drank vampire blood who spelled him and the queen. It was they who killed her.” What Krieger said was not entirely true, but who was here to contradict him? “The witches, are they not now your advisors?”
“Do you not have a witch, a most powerful sorcerer, for your advisor?” Grigori countered.
“I do. Merlin is my most trusted advisor.” He had heard the arguments against Merlin for too long to be lured into anger by Grigori’s comment. “Merlin does not drink vampire blood. Something this council has forbidden.”
“Neither do they drink of the blood, any longer.” Grigori fixed the cuff of his shirt. “I meted out their punishment.”
“Which was?” Carlos asked.
Grigori sucked air through his teeth. “If you’d like me to produce their burned bones, I will do so.”
“You say it like their demise was as easy as snapping a twig,” Beline said.
Grigori grimaced at Beline’s words. “Not so easy as that,” was his response.
Queen Merneith was elegant, black as night, and sharp of tongue. “We are not here to discuss the witches, egregious as they may be. We are here to speak about you. Tell us, Grigori, what exactly are you?”
Grigori shook back his curly brown hair. “I am the future.”
Five sets of ancient vampire eyes stared at him.
“Oh, come now, why so serious?” Grigori scoffed. “Did you ever ask the Elder what he was?” He took his time making eye contact with each royal. “No, I’m sure you did not. I’m not here to disrupt your rule. I only want peace.”
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 6
