Fearless (Dominion Trilogy #2)

by Robin Parrish

  "Package deal. They're your army. Created to suit your specific needs as the Bringer."

  "Yeah," Grant struggled to get any words to come out.

  What's an External?

  "She was a remarkable woman, and not just because of her gift of memory," Devlin offered. "But I'm afraid the three of you caught our librarian quite off guard, and she panicked. After all, we honestly believed Morgan would never, ever return there-"

  "What does the Bringer bring?" The question burst from Grant's lips before he knew he was saying it. He regretted disrespecting Morgan's death, but now that he'd said it, he was desperate to hear the answer.

  "I have never lied to you, Grant, and I never will. But this is the crucial question of your existence, and I simply cannot answer until I see you in person."

  Grant scratched at his scar. "Just tell me if I'm the cause of all these disasters threatening to rip the world apart. Please."

  "The global disasters are not your doing," Devlin replied. "They're mine."

  What??

  "You?!" Grant cried, oblivious to the amount of attention he was drawing on the streets of London. Trevor stood rock still and watched his phone exchange. "How could you possibly-?"

  "I told you before that it was my duty to finish the work your grandfather started, and that's precisely what I've been doing. He prepared you for your arrival into the world. I have prepared the world for your arrival-the arrival of the Bringer."

  No ... it's not true, it can't be .. .

  NO!

  "You..." Grant stammered. "You couldn't have ... This was all about me? ... But you drowned New York, you killed all of those innocent people in China! You destroyed Jerusalem!! Millions of people are DEAD!!" he raged.

  "They don't matter," Devlin declared with a simple, casual air that gave Grant chills. "Our plans were in place seven thousand years before you were born. That's a very long time, Grant. Long enough to develop and apply technologies for things like the manufacture and release of a devastating pathogen ... or tectonic manipulation to cause earthquakes, landslides, volcanic eruptions ... or taking control of your man-made satellites and causing them to crash to the earth. The fire we spread in your hometown of Los Angeles was the easiest to accomplish, but it brought perhaps the highest rate of success."

  Some part of Grant knew Devlin was telling the truth, but he still couldn't quite swallow the reality of what this man was saying. "I don't believe you. It's impossible ... No one has that kind of technology or resources."

  "We do, and a great deal more," Devlin replied. "But none of that matters anymore. All of our plans have been completed. It's time now, Grant. We expect to see you within the next twenty-four hours. We'll be waiting for you. As will your sister."

  "I'll be there," Grant replied, snapping his phone shut.

  How could this be happening?

  More importantly, how had he not seen it? For two whole months he believed the Secretum's influence had been absent from his life. Yet there was no break in their activity. Their plans had continued to unfold right before his eyes. And he never made the connection.

  "There's one last thing you should know," Trevor said uneasily, nodding at the paper Grant held. "That map in your hands? It came from your file."

  "My file? You mean like the files in that room under the Library?"

  Trevor nodded. "They kept me down there for a long time. Long enough for me to read many of the files down there. Including yours."

  There was something else, something he was holding back.... "And?" Grant coached him.

  "The stuff in those files is placed in chronological order, from a person's birth on the first page, until ..." Trevor didn't finish his thought, swallowing nervously. "That map was the last page in your file."

  This map of some remote mountain location in Turkey was the final page in his file in the Secretum's records of his life?

  "Wouldn't that mean this is the place where-where I'm supposed to die?"

  "I don't know," Trevor replied, his body language becoming increasingly antsy.

  Grant felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Yes you do," was all he said.

  "I gotta get back," Trevor said. "They aren't the sort to forgive and forget if I'm late."

  Grant studied Trevor as he walked away.

  He pored over the map for a long time, weighing his options. The mark on the map wasn't far from what looked like a rather large city called Antalya.

  "What are you going to do?" Stephan asked in a small voice.

  Grant turned. He had forgotten that his young friend was still there.

  "What do you think I should do?" he asked, wistfully taking in the boy's wide-eyed optimism.

  Stephan looked at his feet. "I was just thinking ... Shouldn't this be the part where the hero saves the world?"

  Grant placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I hope it is."

  INTERREGNUM

  "MY FRIENDS. THIS is the day that generations of our people gave up everything for."

  "It comes to this, at last."

  "Everything this Secretum has ever done is about to converge in one pivotal event."

  "Yes. But we've never discussed in detail what follows. I can't stop wondering ... What will tomorrow bring? With this task accomplished, what will we do after?"

  "There may be no tomorrow. We go wherever he takes us."

  Antalya, Turkey 12 hours later

  Grant felt like a walking corpse as he disembarked from his red-eye flight. "Red-eye." That phrase had new meaning now...

  Since learning of Morgan's death, he had refused to allow his mind to reach out to the Loci. He knew it was irrational, but he feared the despair in his heart might somehow seep into theirs. And the comfort of community that sensing the Loci usually gave him now only grieved him.

  He had to finish this alone.

  Morgan was dead. All of her vast knowledge and wisdom, a terrible loss. But not as great as the one Grant felt in his heart. Morgan was his teacher, his guide. His friend. She was the first to believe in him, yet she was ever the pragmatist, always prepared to do whatever was required to see something through to the end.

  Their search for the Secretum had almost reached its end, but she would not be there to see it.

  And Julie ... If she was still alive, as Devlin claimed, then that blasted illness was still taking her from him a piece at a time.

  Without her, he wasn't sure there would be anything worth living for.

  Grant bypassed the airport's baggage claim area, as he'd boarded the plane with only the clothes on his back.

  Well, he thought, that's not entirely true.

  Before leaving London, he checked out a book about Turkey from the London Library. He considered it a terrific irony that he'd finally put to use the membership Morgan purchased for him.

  She would like that. She'd laugh.

  Never mind that this book he'd borrowed was undoubtedly one she could have quoted to him verbatim. He spent the entire flight giving himself a crash course on the nation of Turkey. He'd never had reason to find out anything about it before, and six months ago never would he have imagined he would be walking through the Antalya International Airport.

  He'd learned that Antalya, this beautiful resort city situated on the Mediterranean Sea, was just one of hundreds of ancient cities throughout the Taurus Mountains-the mountain range that had been unnamed on the map Trevor had given him. The Taurus Mountains contained numerous peaks rising over ten thousand feet into the sky, including the famous Mount Ararat. And beneath those mountains, he'd discovered with interest, rested the largest caves in all of Asia.

  The next fact to catch his eye cemented it. He knew exactly why it was here that the Secretum brought him when he read that this region had been home to over nine thousand years of human civilization.

  He left the book on the plane.

  Morgan was right. The Secretum of Six had placed its base of operations beneath a place of tremendous influence and power. Situated in the ver
y heart of human civilization for thousands of years.

  As he strode warily toward the airport's exit, he spotted a number of individuals holding placards and signs for arriving guests. Most of the names were written in Turkish or Arabic, but one sign caught his attention.

  In English was written the word "Borrows."

  We will expect to see you within the next twenty-four hours, Devlin had said.

  The man holding the sign was at least twice Grant's weight, a massive thug of a creature who could probably crush Grant's entire neck with a single hand. A hand, Grant noted, that was branded with the symbol of the Secretum just below his wrist.

  He approached the big man and said, "I'm Grant Borrows."

  "I know," the man coldly replied. He turned on one heel and marched away, no further instructions given.

  Grant fell into step behind the big man, following him out of the airport and to the darkened parking area, where they arrived at an unmarked white van.

  The giant unlocked the rear double doors. He merely stood there, his implacable expression leveled on Grant.

  Grant understood and climbed inside the van, but the big man didn't close the doors. Grant knelt on his knees; there were no seats in the back of the van, so he wasn't quite sure how he was meant to endure this ride. He hoped it wouldn't be a long trip.

  The big man retrieved a small black box from the front passenger seat and brought it around to the back. He climbed in behind Grant and shut the doors behind him.

  Grant backed away from the big man as far as he could, uncomfortable about this turn of events. But the other man's attention was focused on the box.

  He opened it and retrieved a hypodermic needle containing a clear liquid. A liquid that looked an awful lot like the one the librarian had injected him with at their second meeting, when he'd been rendered unconscious ...

  "No," Grant said, defensively outstretching his hands. "No way. Not again."

  The big man was unperturbed. "You will take the needle or you will get out of the van."

  Grant remained motionless, his hands still raised, as he considered this.

  The big guy tossed him the needle and got out of the van. "Close the doors and inject yourself. Even in the muscle is fine."

  Grant knew he could refuse, he could effortlessly send the needle flying into the bulging neck of this gigantic man and commandeer the van. But it would get him no closer to his goal. Even if he could find this mountain range depicted on the map Trevor gave him, how would he ever find Substation Omega Prime on his own? Access from the surface would be too well hidden.

  Grant glanced at the rear doors of the van and they closed themselves. He didn't bother rolling up his sleeve; he stuck himself with the needle in his upper arm and mashed the fluid into his system.

  The last thing he saw was the big man climbing into the front seat of the van. His vision blurred and he fell against the van's floor.

  Unconscious.

  London

  Lisa paced.

  Her cell adjoined the one they'd put Daniel in. It was otherwise quiet in the small police station's jail. She believed they were the only prisoners here this night.

  There was nothing to do here; even the paper she'd printed off at the Museum about the book named Secretum had been confiscated, though they'd allowed Daniel to keep his cane. Iron bars separated the two of them, so she had a full view of his movements.

  Or lack thereof.

  Daniel was reclined on his back on a small cot in the far corner, and his eyes were closed. It was dark out and Daniel was asleep.

  How can he sleep at a time like this?!

  So she paced, not knowing what else to do.

  She wanted to wake him but told herself it was a bad idea. She couldn't do that to him. He'd been through so much ...

  No! Stop making excuses for him!

  "Daniel!" she shouted.

  Daniel awoke with a start. "What?!" he cried, a fearful expression on his face.

  "Why are you sleeping?" Lisa asked in frustration.

  "Because I'm tired."

  "I can't believe you can just go to sleep like that. Now, of all times."

  "What should I be doing?" he replied, still lying flat on his back.

  "I don't know!!" she yelled, pent-up feelings boiling over. "We don't know how long they're going to hold us here like this, and after that who knows if we'll ever even see each other again! Don't you think we have some things we should say to each other?!"

  Daniel sat up and watched her walk back and forth.

  "I'm sorry," he said softly.

  "What?"

  "I'm sorry. I'm sorry we're here. I'm sorry I've withdrawn from you and everyone else and made everything worse. Mostly, I'm sorry for the person I turned out to be."

  "For who you are?" she repeated, sitting down on the ground by the bars that separated them. "Do you have any idea how much I care about who you are?"

  Daniel looked down. "You don't understand," he said. "I'm not sorry for killing Drexel. I wish I was. I wish it so much. But I'm not. No matter how much self-loathing I feel for being the one that pulled the trigger ... I know without question that I'd do it again. Right here, right now, if I had to. He was pure evil, and he got what was coming to him."

  Lisa felt tears stinging her eyes, but made no effort to will them away. She sat silently, waiting for him to continue. He'd taken a long time to get this off his chest, and she wasn't about to interrupt him before he was done.

  "I'm a murderer," he said miserably, as if hearing the words for the first time. "I murdered a man. I used these hands to end someone else's life. I killed him. And I ... I'm glad I did it! I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry! I'm not!" his voice rose at the end, just as he got up from his seat.

  He turned his face toward the ceiling, stretched out his arms, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'M NOT SORRY AND I NEVER WILL BE!!" Then he let out an enraged, wordless howl that made Lisa's skin crawl.

  When he was done, he collapsed to the ground, spent. He shook his head slowly and kept his eyes on the ground.

  "Why am I not sorry?" he whispered.

  The tears spilled out of Lisa's eyes at last, and she saw that Daniel was crying quietly to himself as well.

  She let out a shuddering breath and finally opened her mouth to speak again.

  "Do you remember how we met?" she asked.

  Daniel didn't respond. He continued weeping.

  "It was so hot that summer. I answered your want ad for a research assistant, and the ad was so small, I thought I would be the only one there. But it turned out I was your fifth interview of the day. I figured I didn't have a chance, especially after I dropped those microscope slides you wanted me to examine." She almost laughed at the memory.

  "But instead of complaining or dismissing me, you knelt down and helped me clean up the mess. And you said something about wishing you had a dollar for every time you'd done that yourself. I never found out why you hired me over all the others, but in my mind, I liked to think that you saw a kindred spirit in me and decided that maybe it was meant to be."

  "It wasn't anything like that ..." Daniel admitted. "You were the only applicant who pronounced my last name correctly."

  Lisa smiled, wiping tears out of her face. "Whatever your reason, I still think it was meant to be. Not long after I started, your personal funding began to run out and we had to look for private investors to fund the research-do you remember that?"

  "Of course," Daniel said, still looking at the ground. "I still don't know how you managed to find someone so willing to part with their money as fast as you did."

  "I didn't find someone," Lisa replied.

  Daniel finally looked up and met her eyes.

  "I was the investor."

  Daniel was speechless.

  "Before he passed away, my father was the COO of a Fortune 500 company. I was an only child and my mom died when I was young, so everything was left to me. I was in college and had no idea what to do with myself or the m
oney, and I just wasn't interested in his businessthe automotive industry-so I decided on a whim to switch majors to science."

  "You funded our research? Out of your own pocket?" Daniel cried, incredulous. "You believed in the work that much?"

  "No," Lisa replied. "I believed in you."

  Daniel opened his mouth but nothing came out. He crawled, on his hands and knees, until he was close enough to touch her through the bars. He took her hand in his and looked deep into her eyes, still not understanding or believing her words.

  "Why?" he sincerely asked.

  She squeezed his hand. "You know why."

  Daniel looked down, tears threatening to seize him once more. He turned his face all about, searching for answers, searching for words, but he was greeted only by the empty jail cell's walls.

  "I have nothing to offer you . . ." he whispered, grappling with the words. "I'm not good enough ... I don't deserve you."

  "I forgive you, Daniel," Lisa replied, "for everything. I forgive you."

  Grant awoke to find the van rolling to a stop. They'd come to rest on what felt like a steep incline.

  The back door swung open, and the big guy stood there gesturing for Grant to get out of the vehicle.

  When Grant stumbled out, still groggy from the drugs, he saw they'd stopped on a rough dirt road a quarter of the way up a mountainside in the heart of the Taurus Mountains. A majestic nighttime view greeted him both above and below. The stars shown very bright, and very far off in the distance he could see a halo of lights that must have been Antalya.

  Without a word, the large man turned and began to walk farther up the mountain. Grant followed. There was no path, no signposts telling them where to go. It was a desert mountain of peaks and hills and dirt and boulders. A few sparse trees dotted the landscape, but there was little else.

  Half an hour later, they were still climbing a steep incline when the big man veered in a new direction. Grant didn't dare let the man get out of his sight; the only light came from the moon and stars. He scrambled to keep up.