“And the child?”
“Thriving with the help of a wet nurse.”
It was always what lay between the spoken words that held the most meaning. “What killed her?” he finally had to ask. “And why didn’t it kill the child?”
“Dr. Sedgewick was vague about whatever happened, no doubt protecting the king’s privacy.”
“That will be all.” The doctor bowed and left. Krieger reached for the phone, but midway, he paused. Either Eva had truly died of some natural cause or Beline had ended her life because he sensed she was a threat. Either way, it was too soon to call Beline.
The pounding of the guard’s staff indicated another visitor was outside waiting to be allowed into his office. Very well, he thought. “Let him in.”
Hunter, dressed in shorts and a sweat stained t-shirt, entered and immediately started talking. “I’ve been thinking about things and something just smells rotten.”
“Do tell.”
Instead of explaining further about his statement, Hunter took in his surroundings. “I haven’t been in here before,” he continued, like they were old friends. “Nice.” He went to the fireplace, to the bookcase, walked by the paintings on the wall, and ended up pacing in front of Krieger’s desk.
“You mentioned something rotten.” Krieger noticed that Hunter was again wearing the Elder’s ring.
“Can we take a walk or something? I think better when I move.”
“You seem jumpy, Detective.”
“I am.”
“A walk, then, and you can explain the rottenness you smell.” Krieger led the way out the monumental front entrance and veered left towards Merlin’s tower. Hunter walked along beside him. Though he was jittery, Krieger could sense that Hunter was completely at ease in his presence.
“I think we’ve been scammed,” Hunter blurted out, yanking his cell phone from the holder on his waistband.
“Scammed,” Krieger repeated the word.
While Hunter scrolled through images on the mobile’s display he responded, “You know, cheated, hoodwinked so we don’t see the whole picture.”
“I know what the word means.”
“Damn it!” Hunter stopped. “He keeps calling me when I’m asleep or busy and when I call back he doesn’t answer.”
Figuring eventually the pieces would fall together, Krieger asked, “What does he say?”
Absently walking along again, Hunter waved the phone in irritation. “Oh you know Merlin, always mysterious. You’d think a sorcerer could be a little clearer about things.”
Krieger stopped. “Merlin called you. When?”
“Two days ago he woke me up and said “Don’t trust the signs.” Then this morning he called asking if I’d rearranged his specimens.” Hunter snorted. “Like I would.”
Resuming their stroll, Krieger debated this interesting information. He motioned towards a narrow path marked off by diamond shaped stones set into the ground. “This way.”
“I thought this was abandoned.” Hunter looked up the tower’s stone wall. “Did you know the Ancient is seeing Lily’s Martha?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I just jogged past his place and they were out working in his garden. Like it’s perfectly natural to be gardening at night.”
The Ancient had been very helpful in regards to safeguarding Martha. “I’ve been told they enjoy each other’s company.”
“So this is Merlin’s tower.” Hunter paced in front of it. “You think he might be in here?”
He shrugged and thought carefully how to answer Hunter’s question. “It was his place of solitude and where all his important articles are.” Krieger waited while the guard opened the door for them and walked through, immediately going to the stone steps which circled around the inside of the tower.
“It’s darker than two midnights in here.” Hunter hugged the wall, almost tripping on the steps that had no railing.
Krieger motioned for the guard to turn on the lights. “Better?”
“Much,” Hunter replied.
Walking slowly, Krieger deliberated on the best approach. The door to Merlin’s room was left ajar and he walked inside with Hunter a few steps behind.
Hunter stood in the center of the room taking in the contents as he turned completely around. “How does he work in here? It’s a sty.”
That it was. “When was the last time you saw Merlin?” Krieger asked.
“Hmm.” Hunter picked up a vial, sniffed it. “Oh God, what is that?” He put it back and moved on to the bookshelves. “Two nights ago,” he said, with his hand resting on the spine of a book, “No, three nights ago when we went to see Nina.”
The detective looked haggard to Krieger. “Take a seat. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“I haven’t. I keep having these dreams, nightmares.” He cleared papers off a chair seat and sat. “Do you dream?”
“I do,” Krieger replied. “A drink might help calm your nerves. Merlin always had a bottle of bourbon in here somewhere.” He rummaged around looking for it.
“The cabinet by the window, top shelf, behind the hair samples.” Hunter sat up straight. “How did I know that?”
He opened the cabinet, revealing the bottle, and exchanged a look with Hunter.
“I’ve never been here before. There is no way I should have known that.” All the nervous energy evaporated from Hunter.
“You do remember our meeting three nights ago? All of us at the sacred circle.”
“Of course,” Hunter snapped back. “Wait.” He slumped against the chair back. “Merlin’s sick. That’s it. That’s why he isn’t calling me back?”
A generous helping of Kentucky bourbon was Krieger’s response. “Here.” He handed him the glass.
Hunter tipped it back swallowing the contents in one gulp. “You said the sacred circle. I remember. Merlin was with Nina talking his gibberish.”
Would Hunter consider it gibberish once his mind reconciled the events? Krieger wondered.
“He needed help,” Hunter continued. “Needed to be released.”
“I’ll have my guard call Meirta. Perhaps she should be with you now.”
“No!” Hunter stood and slammed the tumbler down onto the table, almost shattering the glass. “No,” he repeated, his tone softer. “She’s sleeping. I remember now. Merlin was lying on the ground. The Ancient was helping him. Liam was there too, right?” He looked to Krieger for confirmation.
“Yes,” Krieger replied. Should he tell him that Merlin was dead, or wait for his mind to discover the information? He’d thought Hunter would instantly know what had occurred, but obviously he didn’t, and was somehow compensating for it by hallucinating phone calls from Merlin. Or maybe Merlin was calling him. He pushed books aside to make room and leaned against the table, noting how unsteady Hunter was on his feet. “I think you should sit down.”
“I’d rather stand.” Hunter turned the Elder’s ring around his finger. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” He braced his arms on the table. “Just tell me.”
“Merlin’s dead.”
“No, no.” Hunter backed away toward the open door. “Dead men don’t leave phone messages.”
“Merlin was no ordinary man.” Krieger waited as Hunter stopped just outside the doorway with the open staircase only two steps behind him. Surely he wouldn’t try to jump?
“You tranced me!” Hunter’s eyes were wide with accusation.
“I did not.” Krieger kept his demeanor calm, lifting and turning his palms out in the universal sign of ‘you have nothing to fear from me’. “It was the force of Merlin’s energy that caused you to collapse. You screamed, I think, at the moment of transfer.”
“Moment of transfer,” Hunter repeated the words, and stepped inside the room to lean against the wall. “The calls?” he asked, wearily.
Krieger shook his head. “Your subconscious working through the new—”
“He’s inside me.” Hunter’s eyes looked glazed. “Fucking bastard. How could he do this to me
? That’s what he meant by, ‘I’m a Merlin, not the Merlin’.”
“The knowledge has passed.”
“Get him out of me. Do it. I know you can. Someone can. I don’t want to be a wizard or sorcerer or whatever the hell he is. Was.” His head dropped into his hand. “This can’t be happening to me.”
“It is done.”
“No one thought to tell me?” Hunter looked broken.
“I presumed the Elder had when he placed the ring on your finger. Or that Merlin said something to you. It was a surprise to me when Merlin asked to be released.” Krieger missed his old friend. “There wasn’t enough time at the end.”
“So, what now? I stop being me and become him? How long will I live?”
“Other than the calls, have you noticed any changes?”
“What am I, a prepubescent girl? Fuck, I don’t know.” Hunter paced with frantic intensity. “I need to get out of here. If it weren’t for Meirta I’d leave. Maybe I will leave.”
Krieger watched him carelessly jog down the stone steps and out the tower. Unable to do anything about Hunter’s situation, Krieger concentrated on what Merlin’s warning through Hunter meant. Don’t trust the signs. Did he mean the sign of the Brotherhood, or the sign of the Lynea, or the inscriptions? Or did it mean nothing at all, just Hunter’s brain sorting through trauma?
Krieger kicked a book out of his way. He’d always hated Merlin’s sloppiness. Would Hunter retain his neatness? This situation was as new to him as it was to Hunter. He needed Merlin with all his faculties, his old friend whose loyalty and guidance and friendship had been a constant source of strength for him.
“Krieger?” Lily’s voice called out.
He was out the door and at the bottom of the tower before she could call again. “How did you know I was here?”
“I asked,” she said.
“Sire,” Liam said as he bowed, low, “We are under orders—”
“Yes, absolutely. Leave us.” The vantors had failed to protect Lily adequately and their place at court was another thorny issue he needed to decide. “Wait. Have one of your pack track Hunter. See that he does no harm to himself and keep me apprised of his whereabouts.”
“Yes, sire.”
“Do not fail me,” Krieger warned.
“Why so stern?” Lily asked, watching Liam stride towards the castle. “We bumped into Hunter on the way over. Is he okay?” She took his hand and started to lead him back towards the main entrance.
“Hunter will be fine. And shouldn’t I be stern after the stunt you pulled?”
“Oh.” She blushed. “We already talked about that. I said I was sorry. I promised to never do it again.”
Such a child to believe her actions could so easily be brushed aside by an apology and that there would be no ramifications. What would she say if she knew how the vantors were punished for her actions? That she loathed him. Never wanted to see him again. That he was a monster. Yes, he could imagine her saying all those things and worse. Which was why he hadn’t told her.
“Am I being abducted?” he finally asked.
“Hmm, that’s a possibility.” She blinked up at him, flirting. “A consort is allowed to do that, right?”
Krieger felt pride that she accepted the new title and meant to keep it that way. “I should make that a law.”
“Yes.” She tugged on his arm, wanting him to go faster.
“Where are we going?”
“To my mother’s grave. I want to talk.”
Not what he’d hoped to hear, but after the events of tonight, it would do.
“Will I be queen?” she asked.
“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” She didn’t respond. “You are my queen.”
“That’s not what I mean. After we’re married.” She held her hand in front of her, admiring the ring. “Vampires don’t marry, do they?”
“Not generally.”
“You’re just humoring me with a wedding?”
“I want you to be happy.” She was angling towards something.
“Grigori is a king.”
“True. Has the thirst for power begun so soon?”
“Don’t be silly. Should I change my name to Lily Consuelo Ayres Barnes? It has a nice ring to it.”
He swept her up in his arms, noticing a group of Others watching them. “Let me take you.”
“No.” She pushed against his chest and he let her slip through his arms. “Let’s take a car. We haven’t gone driving in a while.”
They didn’t say much on the ride over or the walk up the hill. Lily was thinking, plotting something. He could tell by the line of her jaw and the tiny worry lines across her forehead.
Marissa Ayres wasn’t buried in the family cemetery, but next to the statue of Diana that dominated a hill in front of what had been Waverly house. Now the plateaued area where the house once stood looked like a giant place setting.
“Are you going to rebuild?” he asked.
“Yes. It would be nice to have a place just for us and our family. I love Stoke but I’m tired of feeling like I’m living in a fishbowl. What do you think?”
She’d always said Stoke was her refuge. Now it was stifling. And she’d said ‘our family’. Both were interesting and disturbing developments.
She placed a bouquet of peach roses tied together with a black ribbon on the grave marker. “Martha said they were my mother’s favorite color. I wish her portrait had survived the fire.” Lily sat down on the marble bench she’d had placed here. “I have nothing to remember her by now, no memories, no pictures, nothing.”
Krieger slipped his arm over her shoulders and sat next to her. “Do you still dream of her?”
“No, not since… No.”
“Nor Grigori or the dragon?”
“I don’t think it was Grigori, not after meeting him. I felt no recognition, nothing from him.”
“But you said he looked like Grigori.”
“He did, does, sort of, but not exactly. There is a resemblance, but it’s not him.”
She said it with conviction, and he had no reason to doubt her. “The dragon,” he pressed.
She shook her head. “Lucien should be here, not exiled.”
“He’s not exiled,” he whispered into her neck. He kissed his mark on her neck and scraped his fangs against the vein.
“Yes,” she whispered, as he drank from her.
Krieger savored every drop until he reluctantly pulled away to kiss the soft rise of her breast and was rewarded with another sigh.
“I can’t think when you do that,” she said.
“Don’t think, then. You think entirely too much.”
“Not here.” She looked at her mother’s grave.
“Trust me, the dead are past caring.”
“Perhaps.” She leaned back from him. “Perhaps not.”
“I get the feeling you didn’t find me tonight to seduce me.”
“Well,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’d planned that for later.”
He rose and reached out for her hand, intent on whisking her away to Stoke.
Lily got up, but instead of walking into his arms, she went to the statue of Diana and pretended to admire the craftsmanship. “I called Lucien.”
“This is why you came to see me.”
“Partly.” She reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here,” she thrust it towards him. “Take it.” She waited until he had it. “You know the man we went to see in London about the tablet.” He nodded. “Meirta came to see me. He called her and said that he had something she should look at.”
“I thought Lucien tranced the events from him.”
“See?” She tossed her hands up. “That’s why I called Lucien.”
“No, Apryini. You called Lucien because you wanted to speak with him.” Lily looked down at her feet. He lifted her chin with his finger to look into her eyes. “You miss him.”
“I love you, but I love him too. Not in the same way, but…” She loo
ked down, thinking, and then back up into his eyes. “Lucien and I have a connection. You, though,” she said, pausing to kiss his lips, “are the only man I love with my body.”
Krieger had thought he was too old for the sharp searing pain of jealousy. The blood they shared allowed him to dip into her emotions, and he knew what she said was the truth as she saw it. If he became angry, the only person he would hurt would be her, and he couldn’t bear that.
“I know,” he replied. “So what did Lucien say?”
“He hadn’t tranced Meirta and Hunter’s first meeting from his mind. So…”
“It’s plausible,” Krieger finished. “This Dr. Toolley, where is he?”
“Meirta said he’s now in Philadelphia at the University of Pennsylvania Museum. They have a large collection of his grandfather’s there. He’ll be there for another week before he goes back home. I thought that Meirta and I could go.”
Absolutely not, he thought, and remembered Henry saying he’d chain her to his side. No, I won’t ever be that way with her. “He could be persuaded to come here.”
“He wouldn’t tell her what he wanted to show her, and he can’t bring it here. Plus she can’t understand the text. Liam could go with us.” Lily placed her hand on his chest, sliding her fingers underneath his shirt. “But we need someone who can trance the doctor.” She deftly unfastened the buttons down to his waist and kissed his chest. “Can you spare a few days to go with us?”
Krieger had witnessed great men ruined by a woman. How he’d laughed and called them weak. The Gods play games with us all, he thought.
He stilled her hands with his. “I’ll consult my schedule.” Lily would not be going, nor would he. “I thought you didn’t like to leave the archives. Have they revealed anything useful?”
Lily rubbed her cheek against his hand. “What they know is not what we need.” She kissed his hand and moved to gaze at the empty space where Waverly house had been. “I’ve been reading of the Strigoi. Did you know vampires descended from them?”
“One of the legends; there are many to explain why we are here.”
Lily was smoothing her hands over her skirt. One of her nervous gestures. “You think I’m Lynea.”
“The truth of things?”
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 22