“Is this your gift?” she managed to gasp.
He stood over her. “I’m not so funny now, am I? It’s not nice to be disrespectful to one’s sire. Believe me, I should know.”
“Please,” she begged. “You’re killing me.”
He knelt down next to her. “Call me father,” he said, stroking the side of her face.
I’m going to die. “Father, please,” she begged.
“There.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? I watched over you.” He rested his hand against her neck. “I wanted to be with you.”
The searing pain was subsiding, especially where his hand rested against her neck. It felt like rivulets of cool water flowed from his touch, soothing away the pain.
“Do you find it beautiful here?” he asked.
She’d do almost anything to keep from feeling such misery again and forced her eyes to look around. The landscape was beautiful but felt flat somehow, like a computer generated image. How could he live in this alien place that was like a facsimile of Earth but with no noise, or movement, or smells, and where everything was colored in the shades of a crayon box?
“It’s lonely here,” she whispered. He’s done something to me, removed an essential part of me.
“Yes, it is that.” He stood and offered his hand. “My home, my punishment, placed within the eighth ring of the spoke.” He pulled her along to continue walking. “When they broke through, I’d thought my punishment was over.”
Did he mean Henry and his witches?
“Of all the women they offered to me, I cared for your mother the most. I see you mistrust me, but it will not always be so. I promise you that when I walk with you again, in your time and place, so shall she.”
Lily followed his eyes and saw a figure gliding through the tall grass towards them. With each step taken she could see the woman more clearly.
“This is my gift to you.”
She was tall, slender, with long dark hair flowing off her shoulders, wearing a red dress that glowed in the sunless sky.
“This can’t be real.”
“Go to her.”
“Lily!” Her mother ran towards her.
When Lily had dreamed of her mother before she’d been tragic and dying and afraid, but this woman was young, full of life, and smiling. She found herself crying. “Mother.” She ran into her outstretched arms and sank into the embrace.
“I’m so sorry you’re scared. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” Her mother kissed each of her cheeks. “We don’t have long. If you do what he asks we’ll be together again. Promise me you’ll obey.”
“Yes.” Lily wrapped her arms about her mother’s waist. “Yes.”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
Incrementally, her mother faded until Lily was standing alone in the grass. “Bring her back.” She whirled around looking for him. “Please bring her back.” She crumpled to the ground.
“I’m weak now.” His voice sounded far away.
“This is all a trick. She wasn’t real.” Lily rose up to her knees. “You aren’t real. It’s all some terrible dream.”
The bright sky turned dark. “You still do not believe.”
“Wait, please.” She wrapped her arms around her body. “Father!”
“Ah,” the voice was a whisper in her ear. “My child.”
“Show me your true face.”
“You will see.” His voice was faint. “One day soon we will walk the earth as gods.”
No!” The tips of her fingers tingled with an electric charge. “Don’t leave me here!”
Lily was falling, swirling down into an abyss of darkness with no end. On and on she fell. Arms and legs flailing, fingers outstretched clawing at the nothingness, her screaming echoing back and reverberating inside her brain until her only wish was for death. Make it stop, she begged.
Abruptly there was stillness. She couldn’t move, and then there was pain, and cold, then dampness, the kind that seeped into your bones and made you shake until you thought your teeth would shatter. Somehow, she rolled over and looked up at a moonless sky with not a star to be seen. There was the sound of water running over rocks. Off in the distance a train whistled. She struggled to sit up and saw the long line of Waverly’s distinctive white five plank fencing. A shape was moving towards her, fast and agile, slicing through the countryside with barely a noise. Before she could stand, two amber colored eyes, wide set and intent, stared down at her. My wolves.
“We found her,” Liam called out.
Hunter
“How is she?” Hunter asked.
“Alive,” Liam replied.
Hunter waited in front of the massive vault door of the king’s underground chambers. Inside this room was the most secure place Hunter could think of – if anyplace was safe from something that could take a person from thin air.
The vantors were in wolf form except for Liam, who strode amongst them carrying Lily in his arms.
“Here, place her on the bed.” Hunter pulled the covers back so Liam could gently lay her down. With her damp gown, her skin the color of the finest porcelain and her hair tangled around her shoulders, Lily was the image of Ophelia. “Is this what she was wearing the night she was taken?”
“It is,” Liam confirmed. “Guard outside the door,” he ordered his pack.
Hunter watched Rohm change from a wolf to a man and close the vault door behind him. “Can you all change that fast?” he asked, and only received a grunt from Liam. I guess that’s a yes.
“She’s freezing.” Liam rubbed her arms. “We found her lying on the ground in one of the fallow pastures of Waverly, right near the creek bed that runs along the path.”
He’d jogged down the path a thousand times since Lily’s disappearance.
Doctor Caanan slipped into the room, rushing to her side. “Get her something warm to wear while I examine her.” Hunter and Liam were hesitant to leave her side. “Go on. See what you can find.”
Hunter turned first and walked away, Liam reluctantly following behind.
“Stay back there until I call for you,” the doctor snapped.
Liam growled but didn’t say anything in response. He’d been gutted when Lily was snatched from his arms. The king had taken his fury out on the vantors. Liam took the brunt of it for his pack and still held the scars. Hunter left him in the kitchen, found Krieger’s closet and picked out the warmest looking shirt. When he came back, Liam was sitting at the small table, drinking a beer.
“I need one of those.” Hunter retrieved one for himself and another for Liam who’d almost finished off the one he had.
“I thought she was dead.” Liam drained his beer and pushed it aside, grabbing the next one. He peeled long strips from the label. “We’ve searched that area daily and found nothing. Tonight she just appears, lying on the ground.” Liam looked up to meet Hunter’s eyes. “Her scent is different.”
Even now after acquiring Merlin’s knowledge, Hunter couldn’t detect the uniqueness of a person’s scent as the Others could. Not liking the uncertainty in Liam’s eyes, he asked, “Has anyone heard from the king?”
Liam shook his head and twisted the top off the beer bottle. “He’s on his way.”
“Whose property was she on?” The king’s guard were keeping watch over the exact spot where they’d found Lily. Hunter needed to inspect the area for clues before the sun rose, but he wouldn’t leave Lily until the king arrived.
“The bottom pasture at Waverly. Don’t waste your time, you won’t find anything there.” Liam put his elbows on the table and leaned in. “It was like she dropped out of the sky.”
Like Nina, who appeared one night.
“I’ll take that,” the doctor said as he walked in, grabbed the shirt and left. A few minutes later, he called, “You can come back in now.”
They walked in to see Lily cleaned and dressed, lying under a mountain of blankets.
“Would you?” the doctor asked, p
ointing toward the fireplace.
When will this feel like second nature? Hunter reached out his hand and flames instantly engulfed the logs.
“I was afraid she had hypothermia.” Caanan tucked the comforter up to her chin. “Her blood pressure’s stable, she’s hydrated, and from the looks of it well fed.” He closed his doctor’s case. “She’s resting comfortably. You don’t need me here to sit with her.”
“Thank you,” Hunter said.
Liam opened the door enough for the doctor to slip by and was about to close it again, then stopped. “Sire.” Liam knelt when the king strode into the room.
“She’s asleep,” Hunter said, stepping aside to give the king a clear view of Lily. He had no idea where Krieger had been, but he had no doubt what he’d been doing. His clothes were caked in dried blood. His hair, now past his shoulders, was littered with gore.
“Shower,” Hunter said, reaching for Krieger’s sleeve to get his attention. “She can’t wake to see you like this,” he tried to explain, but the ferocious look in the king’s eyes made him immediately jerk back his hand.
“Leave us,” Krieger ordered Liam.
“Let her wake to find you like she remembers.” Hunter gestured at Krieger’s form. “Not like this.”
He scares me and terrorizes the rest.
Within seconds Krieger returned, wearing only a pair of old jeans, his hair wet and combed back from his face. He tossed the blood-caked clothes into the fire and went to sit beside Lily on the bed. Hunter watched the warrior’s shoulders hunch with the relief of finally finding her. It felt intrusive to be here, and as silently as he could, he backed out of the room.
“Walk with me,” he said to Liam after the vault door was closed behind him. Liam had accepted Hunter’s new status without question and walked beside him down the long tunnel. “Do you know where the king was?”
Liam winced. “With Grigori, hunting the Brotherhood.”
“The Gods help us.” It still caused Hunter to pause when he used certain words and phrases that were more Merlin’s than his own. “If you need me, I’ll be at Lily’s recovery point and then I need to speak with Mathers.”
Liam snarled at the mention of Mathers’ name, spun around and walked back to stand guard outside the king’s chambers.
Hunter decided he’d had enough physical activity for one day and drove to Waverly. He thought back to that long drive from Plymouth, so many months ago, and when he’d desperately tried to reach anyone at Stoke. He didn’t know then that they were all reeling from Lily’s disappearance. Krieger had ripped apart every inch of Stoke. No one was above suspicion and he created a diplomatic incident as he personally searched each guest from South America only to discover nothing. When Hunter had driven up to the guard’s station it had looked like a scene from Apocalypse Now. Artificial lights illuminated everything under the night sky. He’d been yanked from his vehicle by a vampire guard with an M16 slung over his shoulder, and feared for his life. Luckily, the guard had recognized him and explained what had transpired. How many humans had innocently driven by on the main road and been tranced – he hoped that was all that occurred – for seeing the spectacle? As the days passed into weeks then into months with no sign of Lily the king became volatile, despondent, hostile and even sadistic in his tactics to find her. He contacted the other royal houses of vampire. King Beline, suffering from his own loss, had offered up his territories for Krieger to search, and together they’d ruthlessly hunted for the Brotherhood, who he blamed for Eva’s death. Queen Merneith and Queen Pao were slowly persuaded to let Krieger and some of his men roam through their territories. Grigori, who felt connected to Lily, went with Krieger on some of his hunts. Hunter wished he’d met him, to get more of a feel for the man. Lucien said he was quiet, contained, and a lot like the Elder. The stories that drifted back of Grigori and Krieger’s hunts did not match Lucien’s description.
It seemed impossible that the Brotherhood could still exist with all the killing Krieger had done. There were stories of men skinned alive and left on pikes. Small Other communities completely razed because some poor tortured soul had implicated someone in that village. Just the hint of collaboration with the Brotherhood was a death sentence. Hunter shoved the gruesome image aside, parked by the gate and walked through the field where Lily had reappeared tonight. Two guards stepped aside to allow him entry into the cordoned off area.
He studied the impression Lily’s body had made on ground, where she’d depressed the frost laden grass.
“Do you smell that?” Hunter asked the guard standing closest to him and watched him take a deep inhale of air.
“Traces of explosives. Faint. Could be someone set off some fireworks in the past.”
“Do you smell it in the air, on the ground?” Hunter knelt down to touch a blade of grass. “It’s still warm.”
The guard did the same. “The odor is attached to this spot.”
Hunter stood and looked out over the field. “When Nina was discovered, did anyone notice the same smell?”
He waited as the guard used the mic underneath his shirt to contact the guard station.
“The guards on the scene the night of Nina’s arrival do not recall any such odor.”
“But you didn’t either, so it could have been there.”
The guard dipped his head slightly. “Correct,” he replied.
“Put up some surveillance cameras around the area. I doubt we’ll get anything, but…”
The guard pointed towards the tree line. “We already installed laser sensor devices. If anything passes through here, we’ll catch them.”
Hunter nodded and wearily walked back to his car. He couldn’t delay his next task any longer.
The doorman, as he would forever think of Mathers, had moved out of the archives and taken up residence deep in the woods beside a small stream. This would be Hunter’s first visit to Mathers’ abode. He’d heard it was a simple but comfortable structure that suited the man. Hunter drove by Stoke’s main guardhouse and steered the car to the right, down the lane which ran to his own home. He drove past wondering if Meirta was awake, and onto the gravel section of the road which took a steep decline down the mountain. He had to park by the side of the road, which wasn’t a problem since this was private property, and walked the rest of the way down a narrow footpath.
It was a cold night, his breath clearly visible when he exhaled. In their last conversation, Allerton had said it would be a hard winter ahead. At least that’s what the Farmers’ Almanac predicted, and his father – how strange to think of him that way – swore by it.
You need to be firm with him. Woodfolk are a tricky lot. It was Merlin talking to him. Hunter was glad no one asked the specifics of how it worked, because he wasn’t sure either. But when he needed knowledge, advice, anything, all he had to do was reach down within and speak with Merlin.
“I know,” Hunter said.
You know he’s not alone, was the quick reply.
“I do.” Hunter had been a detective in London. He’d dealt with interrogations before. The best way to handle Mathers was to catch him unawares and keep him mentally uneven.
Hunter stepped onto the small porch. “Mathers,” he yelled, pounding on the door twice before walking into Mathers’ home. Teach you to lock it next time, Hunter thought.
It was an open floor plan, everything contained in a single room, kitchen to the right, the bedroom – really just a bed – at the back. Along the left side was a low and tattered sofa centered in front of a very large flat screen. It seemed woodfolk appreciated a high definition television as much as the rest of humanity.
Mathers was on the bed, underneath a woman with long red hair, Retribution, whose naked back seemed to challenge him as he stepped inside.
“You got no right to come barging in here!” Mathers, angry and naked, pushed Retribution off him, struggled to free himself from the bed linens and came stomping up to Hunter.
Ignoring him, Hunter spoke to Retribution.
“You should leave.” She gave him a cold fish stare and slipped a thin dress over her head.
“We aren’t done,” Mathers yelled, spittle spewing from his lips.
Retribution’s eyes never left Hunter’s as she walked up to Mathers and kissed his cheek. “Come see me later,” she cooed. “When you’re done with business.”
She was almost out the door when Hunter realized she meant to leave as she was dressed. “You need a coat,” he said.
She reached for the door handle. “I’ll be fine.”
“Let the strumpet go,” Mathers said.
“I’ll get to you,” he snapped at Mathers. “Here.” Hunter unzipped his warm coat and placed it over her shoulders. For just a moment he saw her face soften and instead of the constant scowl there was a brief glimpse of warmth. She didn’t say anything when she turned and left.
“Aren’t you a gentleman?” Mathers stepped into trousers and grabbed a sweater. “Interrupting a man in his own home, while he’s in a woman...” His words were jumbled as he donned the sweater. “… bad business that is.”
Hunter grabbed a kitchen chair and placed it next to the fire. Straddling the chair with his arms resting on the back, he began. “I would call bad business working with the Brotherhood.”
Mathers stopped grumbling long enough to pour himself a glass of whiskey. “No right to walk in here like that.”
“Why’d you do it?”
He drank half of the whiskey and immediately refilled the glass. “Bahh, you saw her. Wouldn’t you, given the chance?”
“You conspired with the Brotherhood of the Sanguis. I want to know why.”
“You’re insane, that’s what you are. Just like Merlin was. I’ll not have this charge tossed at my feet, no I will not.” Mathers spit on the hardwood floor. “We all hate wizards and witches. That is what you are now. Better they’d let Merlin die.”
“He did die,” Hunter said calmly.
Mathers snorted some alcohol through his nose, bent over and coughed. When he straightened he was red faced. “We all know he’s in there,” he said, pointing at Hunter. “Soon the darkness will take hold just like it always does.”
The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) Page 25