by Sarah Blair
Mitch pressed his lips against her ear and whispered, “Relax. He’s on our side.”
Sidney glared at him.
“Trust me.” Mitch drew a circle with his thumb over and over on the back of her hand.
Dimitrius set a heavy book on the coffee table with a thud. The binding was done in red leather with an intricate gold leaf design. The cover didn’t have a title, but there was a gold imprint on the spine.
“A.D. 90?” she questioned.
“The date, yes. All of my personal journals are now arranged in chronological order,” Dimitrius said. “I had this archive done up for easy reference.”
Sidney watched Dimitrius flip through the book. Photos of ancient handwritten documents filled the top half of each page. Below the photos, three different translations of text were typed out, but he flipped through so fast it was impossible to tell what they were. She couldn’t imagine how long it must have taken to compile the information.
The bookshelves held similar volumes, all in order. It was a scholar’s wet dream. He found the place he was searching for and slid the book closer to her so she could get a better view. The musty pages mixed with his earthy scent, stirring things deep within her. “Ms. Lake, is this the same type of creature you encountered in the morgue?”
Sidney’s heart did a backflip inside her chest. A charcoal drawing of a wolf stared at her from the page. It was the same wolf that stalked through her dreams. The only thing missing was the bright green in the eyes.
“Who drew this?” she asked.
“I did. These are the creatures my men and I fought against. The werewolves we hunted into extinction.”
Sidney pulled her gaze away from the drawing and stared at Dimitrius. “I don’t understand. This book is labeled A.D. 90. How could these be your drawings? What are you?”
Dimitrius sank back into his chair. He sipped his Port and stared into his glass with a bitter smile. “Ms. Lake, I’ve been asking myself that very same question for nearly two-thousand years.”
Twelve
“Maybe you should start from the beginning,” Mitch said.
Dimitrius smiled, “Like a fairy-tale you mean? Once upon a time, in a land far away and all that?”
“Just tell her like you told me.”
Sidney gritted her teeth. It irritated her to be talked over like she wasn’t even there. Mitch squeezed her hand in silent apology.
“Right,” Dimitrius said. “It’s a bit of a long story, but one you’ll find interesting, I hope.”
“I’m listening,” Sidney said.
“I was born to a Roman General during the time the Empire occupied the Celtic Isles.” Dimitrius sipped his wine and sank back into his chair. “The Romans built a settlement around an area filled with natural hot springs which still exists today as the city of Bath.”
“I used to visit there when I was in boarding school,” Sidney said.
“Ah, so you are familiar with the patron goddess of the baths, Sulis Minerva?”
Sidney nodded. “The Romans wrote wishes or curses on pieces of lead and tossed them into the water, with the hope she would make them come true.”
“Yes, the original temple at the spring was constructed by the local people in her honor, as thanks for her protection from a great evil. You see, Ms. Lake, the world has changed enormously in two-thousand years. People used to believe in magic, because magic was an everyday experience. It still is. You know this because you see it in your job. However, it’s not common for everyone anymore.
“Since the Age of Reason, the human experience of the supernatural world has been waning. Now science rules. For many people, if something cannot be easily explained by facts and data, it must be attributed to a dream or a bit of imagination gone wild,” Dimitrius said.
It was the same thing her grandfather had always said, her imagination was out of control. Sidney felt as if the words Dimitrius spoke went straight into her gut, same as if he’d shot an arrow of truth into her. Ever since her parents were killed, she’d known there were things out there that couldn’t be explained away with simple reason.
“So, what does this ancient goddess have to do with what you are?”
“Sulis made me what I am,” Dimitrius said.
“You tossed a wish into the water?” Sidney asked.
Dimitrius grinned and Sidney’s heart fluttered faster than a water sprite’s wings. “It was a bit more complex than that.”
“Tell her about the Saxons,” Mitch said.
“Of course,” Dimitrius said. “Werewolves were real creatures once. Rare, but very real. They hunted and killed only for food when they were in wolf form. Occasionally, a traveler or drunken villager ventured out at the wrong time and came under attack. It was almost unheard of for a victim to remain alive through the complete change. Because of this, the numbers were kept small. Almost nothing.
“Soon after I advanced in my father’s place as General, a raiding army of Saxons invaded the land. They were camping in the woods near the Wye Valley. I believe now the area is known as the Forest of Dean. Unaware of the local legends, the leader went off into the woods to relieve himself one night and came face-to-face with a werewolf.
“But he wasn’t the most feared leader of a vicious tribe of Saxons for nothing. He fought valiantly and killed the beast. His hungry men feasted on the meat.”
Sidney scrunched up her nose. “Ew, seriously?”
Dimitrius nodded. “Thus, the vicious army of raiding Saxons became an even more vicious army of werewolves. They devoured entire villages, sparing no one, leaving more evil creatures in their wake. Since traditional means of fighting proved useless against these particular man-wolves, more drastic measures had to be taken. Sulis created her own army.”
“Wait, you’re talking about her like she was an actual person.”
“She was as real as you are sitting before me right now.”
“I know it sounds kind of crazy,” Mitch said.
“Kind of?” Sidney could hardly believe what she was hearing.
Mitch shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
“Right. Whatever.” Sidney squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “When you say created, what exactly does that mean? How are you here?”
“There are particular lines of energy, called ley lines, believed to run through the Earth,” Dimitrius explained. “Certain points along these lines have powerful magic associated with them. The Ancients were in touch with this power and knew where the strongest points were located. They built monuments and places for ritual centered around them.”
“Like Stonehenge,” Mitch said.
“Exactly. The place Sulis performed the ritual to change us was at Glastonbury.”
“The Tor?” Sidney asked.
“You know it?”
“We took a school trip there once. I—” Sidney cut herself off when a sudden memory jumped into her mind. Something she hadn’t thought of in years.
“You what, Ms. Lake?”
“It’s nothing.” She definitely didn’t want to think about it now. Her head was too full of other things. She didn’t have room in it for ghosts—Spectral Apparitions—she corrected herself.
“Go ahead, it could be important,” Mitch urged.
Sidney stared at the ceiling for a second while she tried to put her memory into words. “We were at the Chalice Well. I leaned over to look into one of the pools and I thought I saw someone look back at me. I mean, it was my reflection, only, not. My friend had to grab my arm to keep me from falling in.”
Dimitrius scratched his jaw with his thumb, his eyes softened as he stared into his wine glass and a smile played across his mouth. “Sulis has been known to reveal herself in the water.”
“Okay. Sidney shook her head, trying to sort things out in her brain. “So, anyway, back to you. This ancient goddess Sulis, performed a ritual on top of a magical hill in England turning you into a supernatural super-soldier so you could destroy an army of Saxon
werewolves.”
“That might be the way one would pitch the story to a Hollywood film producer, but yes. That’s the long and short of it.”
She stood and paced back and forth between the desk and the sitting area, just to work off some of her nervous energy. There was a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach she couldn’t get rid of, a tingle across her skin like static gathering in the air before an electrical storm.
“You okay, Sid?”
“Fine.” Sidney hugged herself. “I’m fine. He can kill these things and they’ll be extinct for real this time. No big deal. That’s why we’re here. Isn’t it?”
“Ms. Lake,” Dimitrius leaned forward and pointed to the picture in the book. “Is this the creature that attacked you?”
“Yes.” Sidney shook her head. “No. It’s the same, but different.”
The two men stared at her for a moment. Mitch was the first to speak. “Different how?”
“Those things that killed Tom were more human. Their heads were shaped differently. Their hands didn’t really change into paws either, more like, big hands with claws at the end.”
“Could they be some kind of hybrid?” Mitch asked Dimitrius.
Dimitrius held out his hands, palms up. The universal sign for, who knows?
“You don’t know what these things are?” Sidney asked. This man was supposed to have the answers.
“Evolution is a strange thing.” Dimitrius picked up his wine glass again. “Perhaps you have encountered a new species entirely. The body discovered in the subway would seem to suggest such. A sort of ‘missing link,’ if you will.”
“But if these aren’t werewolves, then what are they?”
Mitch shrugged. “Shifters?”
“Fine. Shifters.” Sidney continued pacing. “Your werewolves, the Saxon-wolves, what happened if they bit someone?”
“Nine times out of ten, the person did not survive the attack itself. The werewolves didn’t hunt for sport, they hunted out of instinct for food. I don’t mean to be so crude, but usually there wasn’t enough left of a victim to change into a werewolf.”
The words didn’t make Sidney feel any better. “But what about those who did survive?”
Dimitrius tilted his head back and swallowed the last of his wine. A drop remained on his bottom lip and he dipped his tongue out to catch it. Sidney shivered.
“The transformation would be complete within twenty-four hours. You were bitten four nights ago.”
“Four nights?” Sidney gaped at him.
“Today’s Tuesday,” Mitch said.
Sidney sat down again. Three full days she couldn’t account for. It threw her mind off balance. Mitch took her hand again and she wove her fingers with his.
“The change would have occurred by now if it was going to happen.”
Sidney was so relieved she wanted to cry, but she didn’t dare. Not here. Not in front of this stranger. She took in a long slow breath to soothe her raw nerves.
It was a mistake. Mitch’s citrusy sweetness mixed with the smoky flavor of Dimitrius and set her senses completely on edge. The room was suddenly too hot and too small.
“Your grandfather has been in the news lately, Ms. Lake.” Dimitrius stood and pulled another book from the shelf.
The subject change was so abrupt, it threw Sidney completely off guard.
“What do you know about my grandfather?”
“A great deal, in fact.” Dimitrius came around the table and placed the book directly in front of Sidney.
His nearness was too much. When he leaned over and opened the book, she almost reached out to grab his hand. She wanted to mold her body against his, draw in his scent and his warmth, taste the salt on his skin. Instead, she leaned against Mitch, squeezed his hand, and the feeling eased a little.
The book contained a handwritten list. Page after page of names. Dimitrius flipped through until he reached the last page with writing on it, though there were many more pages left empty.
He touched the last name on the list.
Sidney Marie Lake.
Her head grew light as all of the blood drained out of it and pooled deep in her chest, making it hard to breathe as she noted the names above hers.
Henry Alexander Lake.
Alexander Roosevelt Lake.
Vivian Marie Astor Lake.
“My father? Grandfather? Why do you have my family tree written down?”
“You are a direct descendant of the goddess Sulis Minerva. No one in your family has heard this truth in over seventy years,” Dimitrius said. “You cannot change into a werewolf, because the magic in your veins prevents it.”
Mitch leaned forward and examined the book.
She turned to him. “Did you know about this?”
He shook his head, and his forehead creased deeply as he looked to Dimitrius.
“Why choose Sidney?” he asked.
“Not a choice. Fate,” Dimitrius said. “She’s the first female to appear in the bloodline in three generations. The Thirteenth Daughter of Sulis.”
“I’m not sure I like the way that sounds,” Sidney said.
“It’s a very good thing, I promise.”
“Why is it important that I’m a woman?”
“The blood of Sulis manifests itself within the males of the line differently. They carry with them a certain charisma, a power to sway people to their will. They exude a peculiar kind of confidence which inspires trust and faith. When used for good, it’s a wonderful thing. When used for evil, it can be extremely dangerous.”
Sidney thought about her grandfather and how everyone seemed to adore him. He had the confidence of some of the most powerful people in the country, even the world. But, his charismatic personality had never quite rubbed off on her. Maybe this explained how she was able to see the cold, unforgiving nature that others always seemed to miss.
“Ms. Lake, you are able to wield the power of Sulis in a much more practical way,” Dimitrius continued. “From my past experience, the magic responds on an elemental level to the females of the line. It is why Sulis was considered a goddess in a time when people believed in such things.”
“No way. I am not a—” She let out a heavy breath, unable to even say it aloud.
“You’re surrounded by the supernatural every day. We all are,” Dimitrius said. “Most people in this city go about their lives, completely unaware of what’s around them. You see it. You experience it on a daily basis, because you know in your heart of hearts that it’s real.”
“Just because I know it’s real doesn’t mean I was ever supposed to . . . to cross over or whatever and become part of it.” Sidney stood and took up her pacing again. “I always thought I was a human protecting other humans from this. Now, you’re saying I’m something completely different. I’m some kind of deity?”
She’d been preparing herself for turning furry, not sprouting wings, or whatever it was goddesses got. Her mind reeled as she tried to wrap her brain around the news.
Dimitrius poured himself more wine. “Your great-grandmother Vivian was a dear friend. She understood and believed just as you will.”
“Wait, I’m not your great-granddaughter or something, am I? If the next news out of your mouth is that we’re related somehow . . .”
“We are not related by blood in any way,” Dimitrius said. “Magic is unpredictable. It requires balance. When one thing is given, something else must be taken away. We could have everlasting life, but never procreate.”
She shook her head, taking a moment to let the news filter through her brain, to comprehend what it all meant. Then she came around the desk.
“You were wrong about the werewolves. They do exist.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed at him. “How can I believe anything you say about being a—about having magic blood? How can I really be sure I won’t change into one of these things?”
“Sidney,” Mitch warned.
Dimitrius lifted his hand slightly, to let him know he was not concerned.
The wine glass exploded on the floor as she smacked it out of his hand. She pulled back, ready to knock that flippant smile off his mouth too, but found her wrist caught in his rock solid grip. He didn’t squeeze tight enough to hurt, merely prevent her from hitting him.
With her free hand, she snatched up the first weapon she spotted on the blotter, a mother-of-pearl letter opener. One quick turn and Dimitrius had her up against the desk. The full length of his body pressed against hers while she held the pointed tip of the letter opener just under the cleft in his square Roman chin.
They both froze.
“You prove my point quite well,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear, like a secret between them.
Sidney smelled the wine on his breath, the leather strap tied around his neck, the sweet scent of earth permeating his very pores.
She stared at the scar on his neck again. Her wrist burned like fire where their skin touched. His body was as solid as the Oak desk he pinned her against. His hair fell forward and she wanted to run her fingers through it, touch it, wrap her fist around it and yank his mouth down to hers so she could find out if he tasted as good as he smelled.
Instead, she tightened her grip on the letter opener.
His gaze remained locked to hers. He leaned closer, placing the fingers of his free hand on the desk, but he paused as if he could only go so far.
The tip of the letter opener sank into his flesh. A single drop of blood ran a trail down the pearlescent blade.
It was a silent dare. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted her to snake her tongue out and taste his blood. Taste him.
Sidney threw the opener on the desk and jammed the heel of her hand into his nose instead.
Thirteen
“We’re leaving,” Sidney said. She went for the door and nearly collided with the assistant as she rushed through from the other side.
