She was crying, her head buried in Nicolette’s long blonde hair as she rocked the Unborn in her arms. Liz took a hasty, splashing step forward. Nicolette. The woman looked up at the sound. “At last. I’ve been here so long. Kept away from my husband and children. You don’t know what that thing has made me do.”
Zander quickened his pace. “Let us help you. My name is Zander Sariel. We need to get the two of you to safety.”
“Zander…Alexander’s son?” The woman sobbed in relief, turning her face up to him with a radiant smile and indigo eyes that made Liz stumble. There were lines on her face that came from age and grief, but she was stunning. And she looked like Midnight. “I remember when you were just a baby. My twins, Sebastian and Sari were born not long after your mother had you. My name is Miriam. Miriam Abaddon.”
“No. Don’t listen to her. Sh-she lies.” Nicolette’s head rolled back, revealing the once flawless face covered with bruises and claw marks.
The woman holding her lost her helpless, hapless expression in an instant, rolling her familiar eyes. “All you had to do was stay quiet for a few more minutes. Was that too much to ask? I was trying to save you. After all, in a round about way, you did bring my son back home to me.”
Nicolette looked directly at Liz and tried to smile as, before anyone had a chance to move, Miriam punched a clawed hole through her heart.
“Nicolette!” Midnight lifted Liz’s struggling body off her feet, not allowing her to rush to her friend’s body as it slid off the rock and into the water, facedown. It made no sense. She couldn’t accept it. She wasn’t gone. How could Nicolette be gone? She was family. How would the Deva Clan—how would she survive without her? Cold shock filled her stomach, her limbs. And the other woman was…smiling? “Why? Why would you do that? Nicolette! Let me go, damn you. I need to help her. Great Mother, why?”
“I think I just told her, were you not paying attention?” Miriam’s expression was smug as she looked at Midnight. “She’s always been a little slow, Marcus. If she wasn’t perhaps my heroic Malcolm would still be alive. But then I never could understand my sons’ taste in women.”
Midnight set Liz down between himself and Zander, making sure the Mediator kept hold of his struggling, shouting mate. “It’s not safe, Lizbeth. I need you with me. Focus on what’s in front of us.”
His enigmatic gaze never strayed from the woman who had been his mother. “You dare lay claim to us? You earn my gratitude for my delivery into this world, but only contempt for your absence.”
Liz knew he was trying to be strong, for her. She forced her eyes forward, knowing she couldn’t look at Nicolette’s lifeless body and remain standing. Midnight knew it too. So he put aside his own feelings of shock and betrayal as he stood in front of his murderous mother. For her.
Miriam was standing, her gown glittering in the soft light. “I’ve never been far from my children. But I am not just a mother. I am a woman. My heart was torn in two between my love for you, and my love for my mate.”
“Your mate lays bleeding to death in the house above. For all his cruelty he did not abandon his duties.” Zander spoke through gritted teeth, his hands gripping Liz’s shoulders tightly. They were all walking a tight thread. All working so hard not to let the rage and grief distract them from this dangerous viper in their midst.
She laughed at Zander. “You are Alexander’s son. So proper. So smug and superior. But you have no right to judge me. Your mate is an abomination. But the Clan Trust accepted her. Why? Because you are a Sariel.” She spit out the name like a curse. “Pure blood. Pure rubbish. And your brother. Don’t make me laugh. His mates, both Weres, welcomed into the Trueblood community like brethren.”
Her voice rose, the sound harsh and ugly. “I was denied my place. Denied my children. But that perverse puff of a vampire you call brother is hailed as the fulfiller of the Mother’s Message. As if he were the only Trueblood in history to have two mates.”
Midnight stepped closer before Zander could lose his temper. “You have a lot of information for someone in hiding. What did you mean when you said Nicolette brought me home to you?”
Her expression softened to one of motherly devotion. Though the glint in her eyes was far from maternal. “Do you know until this last year I was sure you were dead? All my children gone. When we started getting reports of you again, I was overjoyed. You came out first, you know. Before Malcolm. My firstborn son. And my champion. I know how you defended me to your father. It warmed my heart.”
“Is that why you didn’t simply have me killed when I got close to discovering the members of asura saMsaki? A mother’s love?”
“No. It is why I didn’t kill you. I strive eternally for my mate’s happiness.” The large grizzled man came out of the darkness, dragging a bloodied sword behind him. “I got rid of the Sariel guard who followed her, dearest. He won’t need this anymore.” The two laughed together, and Liz fell to her knees in the rancid water. Max. That was his sword. Great Mother, had he killed Max?
Midnight couldn’t move. The final piece of the puzzle had snapped into place at the Shadow’s arrival. He remembered his last night as Marcus Abaddon.
“Do you swear to honor the secrecy of the Demon Coalition, to carry to your eternal grave all that you witness here tonight?”
“I do.”
“We’ve watched you closely. The reason we didn’t contact you sooner was the bond of brotherhood you share with your brother, Malcolm. He is not like us. He actually likes humans, believes we can live together peacefully.” The elder sneered, watching Marcus closely to gauge his reaction.
“My brother and I shared a womb. That is all. The path he follows is not mine. I want none of it.” May the Goddess forgive his lie. He calmed his heart rate, refusing to look away until the older man blinked.
He was so close.
That his father was involved was not something he doubted. But how far did this cult of theirs go? Was it more than just a club of discontented Truebloods? Were they actually in league with the Shadow Wolves? Were the rumors of murder and political intrigue true? His answers lay beyond a thick metal door. And this masked man had the key.
“It is time.” Marcus grasped his hands behind his back, striving for the appearance of ennui. He was a young, rich, jealous Trueblood. Twin brother to one of the most influential man in a generation. A man everyone looked up to. A man above suspicion. The perfect cover.
He entered a room bare of any wall hangings or decoration. A group of hooded men in masks surrounded the only furniture in the room. An altar. “Let me guess. We’re slaughtering goats before we head out to the secret masquerade ball.”
No one appeared surprised by his irreverence. He hadn’t expected them to. He’d played the bad boy for too long for an immediate change to be believable. The man beside him laughed. “Not exactly, Marcus. This is part of the welcoming ritual. You will lie upon the altar and answer the members’ questions. When they have been answered to our satisfaction, we will relax, play with our beautiful blood servants, and talk of war.”
There was no way he could get out of this gracefully. A few questions, and he would be accepted as one of them. A small price to pay. He walked at a leisurely pace, studying each cloaked man in turn.
His father couldn’t be among them. This time. Surely by now he would have reacted to his son’s disrespectful behavior. He knew there were a handful of Elders in the crowd, but who were the others? His peers? His relatives?
He lay down on the altar, his hands folded across his chest and a smirk on his face. “Shall we begin?”
They dove on him with a speed he hadn’t foreseen, pulling his hands down at his side and closing the shackles over his wrists and ankles. “Bloody bastards, what in the name of—” A cloth saturated with a strong herbal narcotic filled his mouth, too deep for him to spit out.
And then he saw them. The crowd parted and he saw his father, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. Beside him stood a large Werewolf, snarling at the cowerin
g crowd. He shifted into a muscular man, and Marcus saw his father hand the Shadow Wolf a cloak.
“Thank you Elder Abaddon. For this, and so many other things. You should go now.” And without a word his father turned, as though on strings, and disappeared around the corner.
“Did you think you were so clever, young Abaddon? Did you think we would not see through you? That we would be so careless when there is so much at stake?” The Shadow tsked, shaking his head in gentle reprisal. “You are a boy playing spy, but this is a man’s game. And your father, our leader, has given the order.”
The man nodded and the others stepped back, giving him room to move around Marcus’s body. He leaned in close. “Your mother sends her love.” Marcus jerked against his restraints, fighting the drug and the Shadow smiled. “You should see the look on your face. Better yet, you should see the look on hers each night as I take her. Unfortunately even if you had, you wouldn’t remember it after tonight. You’ll forget all of this. Your family. Your dear, sainted brother. And he will weep. For you. He will be so inconsolable that he won’t notice until the wolf is at the door. And then, it will be too late.”
The Shadow straightened and lashed out with his claws, a deep scarlet slash down Marcus’s cheek. “A little something to remember us by.” He was still laughing when Marcus slipped into unconsciousness.
He came back to the present on a wave of love and pride from his grathita, his wildcat. Midnight smiled at his mother’s mate, at the man responsible for it all. The monster who had made him. “You had it all figured out, but Malcolm didn’t follow your plan, did he? The plan you had worked so hard to bring to fruition? You’d made my father the leader, the scapegoat in case you were caught, you made me the sword that my brother was supposed to throw himself on, and you made fools out of the Truebloods, all for nothing. Malcolm was a warrior. He lived and died as a warrior, and he mourned as a warrior mourns. As the Storm Bringer mourns. And he killed thousands of your people because of what you set in motion. I bet that pissed you off.”
The Shadow growled, but Midnight was just getting started. “So you lay low for a while, still guiding things, still ensuring that the old prejudices between Were and Trueblood, natural born and Unborn remain intact. Maybe even help put the idea in Sebastian’s head, through your own personal Elder puppet of course, to kill his older brother Malcolm. That would solve all your problems. But then Sebastian’s alliance with Grey Wolf gets out of your control, and the Mediator of the Clan Trust mates with, of all creatures, an Unborn Reader. And the Trust actually accepts her. You must have been foaming at your furry little mouth.”
“You need to tie up your loose ends now.” Midnight stilled in surprise as Zander took up the narrative. “Maybe his allies are no longer in the Trust, maybe some have had a change of heart. When a Were and Unborn, both connected to the Sariels, start to pick up your trail, you come up with a plan.”
“This is where the evil villain lays out his dastardly plan before he kills the hero, giving the hero enough time to devise a way to kill the villain and save the day.” Miriam leaned her cheek against her hand dramatically, before shaking her head. “Don’t make me laugh. My mate is a genius. He’s the true hero. Unlike my grathita. Unity my frilly umbrella. The Mother made a mistake. Abaddon is weak. His children were weak. Yvan has a vision for our future. A future that isn’t about judgment and rules. And with the paper trail your Nicolette discovered dealt with, the only people who know about us, are you. But that won’t matter after tonight.”
Midnight shook his head. “I’m not tied up and drugged this time. And I’m not alone. You can’t think the two of you can take all of us on.”
Yvan wrapped his arm around Miriam and winked. “I could. But I don’t have to. As soon as I knew the charms had been broken, we invited a few friends over. You’d be surprised at how many jumped at the chance to slay the Sariels, their mutant mates and the Storm Bringer’s twin all in one night. Honestly, you should be flattered.”
Midnight was rocked back on his heels when a strong wind blew into the stagnant cave, picking up his mother and her lover and carrying them into the darkness. He chased after them, but the force of the wind blew him back. “Fuck.”
“Well, now we know what her element is.” Zander came to a stop beside him, kicking the water in helpless rage. “How could we not know? My father? Anyone? All this happening right under our noses, and no one knew.”
Midnight turned to make sure his mate was all right. She was kneeling beside Nicolette’s body, cradling her in her arms and rocking back and forth. “I don’t know, Mediator. But too many people have paid for this secret with their lives. And too many have gotten away with murder. No more.”
His grathita glanced up at him, tears streaming unheeded down her cheeks. “We have to get her out of here. She deserves better. She didn’t deserve this.” She took a shaky breath. “And Max. We have to find Max.”
“We will, Lizbeth. We will. And then,”—he accepted Zander’s hand and got to his feet,—“then we need to prepare for what’s coming. Whatever that may be.” But he knew the enemy. Knew neither of them would be able to resist witnessing their masterpiece. And he knew what he would have to do before this night was over.
Goddess give him strength.
Chapter Ten
They came together near the standing stones on Abaddon land. Out in the open, to avoid any more surprises. As if they needed more.
Sylvain and the two Sariel guards had rushed the children to the Healer’s house. Priestess Magriel and Mysha would protect them with their lives, Hannah knew. None of them took a breath, with Midnight’s mother Miriam Abaddon and her Shadow mate Yvan nearby, until Lux turned to them with a relieved smile. “They’ve arrived safely.”
Hannah was still in shock. After the message from Alexei, she, Jasyn and Wyley had come running. They’d almost arrived when she’d stumbled, crying out in pain-filled denial. Nicolette was dead. Her sire. Her mother and friend.
She could see the same heartache and disbelief in Liz and Regina. Nicolette was the glue that had held them all together. That had made their clan of outcasts a family. Having her away in England had been hard enough on the rest of the Unborns. Now Deva castle was in disarray, and she knew it would never be the same. First one of their leaders had become a Trueblood mate, and now this. It wasn’t right. The elegant courtesan, who’d faced cruelty as a human, adversity and rejection as a vampire, had never had a chance to find her happiness. Never had the chance to find someone to love her as much as she deserved to be loved.
And now she lay on a bed in Abaddon manor, lifeless. For what?
Lux squeezed Jasyn’s shoulder, lifting Hannah’s chin with the gentlest of fingers. “We will all grieve for her, Hannah. Madame Nicolette D’Nocturne. For hundreds of years we allowed ourselves to be manipulated.” His glance at Midnight was telling. “Allowed innocents to be lost along the way and heroes fall, never knowing there was someone else, something else, pulling the strings.”
Liz choked back a sob, and Midnight pulled her into his arms as Lux continued. “Within her first year as the Deva representative for the Clan Trust, she’d not only continued to change the way Truebloods looked at Unborns, she’d uncovered the greatest secret in our history. In doing so, she also gave Midnight back his life, brought Jasyn and Hannah together and saved Elizabeth and the others from falling for yet another deception.” He looked at Zander, and lightning streaked across the sky. “She will be honored as a hero.”
The Mediator nodded in agreement, and Jasyn pulled Hannah closer. “She saved you for me that day. You would have died in that damn car, and I would never have gotten to you on time. The Weres will honor her as well.”
Liz pulled away from Midnight and brushed the tears from her face briskly. “Okay, what about Max?”
“We found blood, but no body. Max is a Sariel guard, an Igigi warrior. I refuse to believe that the older Shadow killed him.” Zander’s gaze strayed to Midnight. “I am sorry for a
ll you’ve lost, my friend. But that meeting gave me more questions than answers. I imagine those same markings that kept you from remembering who you were, helped Yvan keep his mate and himself hidden from everyone for all of these years. Allowing him to remain close without being detected. Maybe it even blocked the normal bond between mother and child. My question is, why did they want you coming back?”
Wyley, who’d maintained a respectful distance as they grieved for their friend, stepped forward, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. “No Shadow came to my mountain for centuries that I knew of. Not during your war or after. Not until this past year. Why? And what about Jasyn and Nicolette? They could’ve killed them easily enough, but they brought Jasyn across the ocean and chained him up in Midnight’s territory, where he’d be sure to find them, leaving a trail you’d have to follow.”
“I believe we are thinking along the same lines, Were.”
Jasyn swore under his breath. “I was bait.”
Lux flinched. “It sounds like it, doesn’t it. With Nicolette so close to Regina and Liz, and you my grathita’s brother, they knew we would come for Midnight and someone would recognize him, either as Malcolm’s double, or Marcus Abaddon himself. They wanted us to bring him home.”
Hannah jumped when Midnight growled and lashed out, punching a chunk out of the smooth stone beside him. “None he sent could do the job, I was too alert, an animal. An animal not distracted as easily as a man returning to remember all he’d lost.”
Liz held Midnight’s face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Then he’s made the same mistake twice over. We’ll just have to remind him how a warrior mourns.”
Hannah leaned back against Jasyn, moved by the love Liz felt for Midnight shining through her eyes. Was it only a few months ago that she believed Liz hard? Someone who kept herself away from emotions? Now she stood here, pushing aside her grief over the loss of her friend for Midnight. Her adoration and pride in her grathita clear for all to see.
Midnight Falls: Children of the Goddess, Book 4 Page 14
