The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Alesha Escobar

  Master Lan pressed his lips into a thin line to indicate his disagreement. At least the guy was honest and upfront about his feelings on the Drifter. “I don’t doubt she has good intentions, but suddenly deciding that the Drifter is no longer a threat is a decision we aren’t equipped to make right now.”

  Christine brushed a few wisps of brown hair aside and observed me. Her white blouse, long dark skirt, and boots, reminded me of a prim and proper secretary in an office building. “Master Lan,” she said, avoiding my gaze, “surely this must be settled now since...fraternizing with the Drifter is dangerous in more ways than one.”

  I turned to face her with a hardened gaze. “Don’t speak as if I’m not sitting right here.” I turned to face Lan. “I’m not asking you to make an official declaration. We just need your assurance that she--” I gestured toward Christine with a wave of my hand, “or someone else from your group isn’t going to attack me when my back is turned.”

  Because if you even tried, I’d bury you all...

  “Isabella’s concerns are justified.” Skye folded his hands behind his back. “Before the attack on the Tower, When the Masters were all meeting and trying to decide her fate, most of our peers wanted her dead.”

  My heart fell in my chest at his words. It stung me to hear that their judgment had been to execute me, without even speaking to me or trying to find out who I truly was. It galled me to admit it, but Ammon was right. Well, at least about this matter. I would never win over some people, and they would keep getting in the way.

  Mehara shifted next to me. “Master Lan, I was one of the seven trackers assigned to capture the Drifter, and now...I don’t believe I was right. We were not right.”

  I gave Mehara a grateful nod. People like her made me feel there was hope. “I recovered the final page from the Mehmed VI collection, and I have a scholar working with me so I can learn to close time rifts, as well as other skills I’ll need to help you defeat Octavian.”

  Christine snorted, making the nostrils of her upturned nose flare. “So now you’re some kind of savior? Why are you so sure that you’re the one to go against the Cruenti Master?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t say I was the one. I said I would help.”

  Brande squeezed my shoulder. “Isabella defeated a warlock in Spain. She was able to obtain a talisman that allows its user to teleport to the Den. It’s in the hands of MI6, and we intend to request the talisman through the Gray Tower’s ambassador in Switzerland.”

  Master Skye stepped forward. “He’s telling the truth, Lan. I’m the one that sent Isabella on that mission in Spain. We can use the talisman to teleport and launch an assault on the Den.”

  Lan’s gaze went between Skye and me, and then he faced Brande. “If this is the case, then I need you to come with me and tell these other wizards the plan.” Lan stood, his narrow knees creaking. “It’s only fair that you speak with them face-to-face.”

  “We’ll do it.” I stood as well.

  Brande rose to his feet. “I’ll go with you, Master Lan, but Isabella will stay here. If they’re still distrustful of us, then I don’t want her surrounded by them.”

  “I’ll keep her company while you’re out,” Skye said, before I could object to being left behind.

  Christine stood and flashed the boys a pretentious smile. “Cliff and Sadik, if it will make you feel safer, you are free to come with Master Lan and me.” She shifted her gaze in my direction.

  Cliff crossed his arms. “No thanks. I’m sticking with Isabella.”

  Sadik nodded. “I want to stay with her as well.” Everyone did a double take at his words. Almost everyone at the Tower thought Sadik was a hopeless mute.

  Mehara cleared her throat and beckoned the boys to follow her. “Why don’t we go for training in the courtyard? I’m sure you miss sparring?”

  Cliff nodded. “I think that’ll do us some good. Come on, Sadik.” He threw his arm around his friend, and they followed Mehara out.

  Lan faced Brande and gestured toward the doorway. “Shall we?”

  Brande gave a curt nod toward Christine. “Ladies first.”

  She rolled her eyes and headed through the doorway, Lan followed. Brande faced me with an apprehensive look, but I threw my arms around him and gave him a kiss. “Be safe. I’ll see you soon.”

  He gave me a tight squeeze and breathed in my scent, his hands lingering, telling me he didn’t want to let go. He turned toward Skye. “Master Skye, I just wanted to say--”

  Skye waved his hand through the air. “Apology accepted for your prior rudeness, and I’ll make sure she stays safe.”

  Brande arched an eyebrow. “Actually, I was going to tell you that if I hear of any impropriety on your part, that you’ll regret it.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Skye’s eyes glinted like steel. “I was tearing apart warlocks when you were in diapers.”

  Well, there went teamwork and camaraderie. “Brande, I’ll be fine.”

  Both men glared at each other for a few seconds before Brande finally turned away and left the lounge. Skye exhaled a low breath. “Your sweetheart’s going to mess around and get his head bitten off.”

  “So is that what you like to do when you’re the Black Dragon?” I gave him a critical eye.

  “Among other things,” he said, offering his arm. “Do you want to go get some fresh air? I know a tavern nearby where we can have lunch.” His gaze roved over my cream colored dress.

  I held onto his arm and smiled. “Actually, Master Skye, I want to go to church.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Church?”

  “For just a short while, then we can go eat.”

  He grimaced. “All right. I guess I can stand some of that.”

  “I just have to grab my purse, and we’ll be on our way.”

  I’d have to borrow Mehara’s purse, because I had lost mine back in Budapest, but I needed to stuff some supplies in there and take them along with me. I was beginning to form a plan on how to deal with Ammon, and if he thought I was going to be submissive and let him drain me and corrupt me, then he had another thing coming.

  53

  We exited the cab and stepped onto the sidewalk, watching the throngs of people walking up and down the street. We scanned the area and kept an eye out for any German tanks or trekkers in the area. When we had arrived here, the manager of the inn informed us that German reinforcements had crept into the city and began staying a little longer than usual.

  Master Skye and I turned down a narrow walkway and entered the large square where St. Mark’s Church stood. The Romanesque building’s age could be seen in its weathered edifice which had survived several natural disasters since the 13th Century. We walked behind a trio of elderly women, and Skye rushed ahead to open the front door for them. They smiled and thanked him, patting his cheek and remarking how handsome he was. Though his graying temples gave away his advanced age, his face wasn’t etched with a single wrinkle, and the rest of his hair was full and dark.

  “Do you like what you see? You’re staring awfully hard.” His voice held a touch of amusement.

  “Let’s go.” I grinned and forced down the wave of embarrassment I felt rising up my neck and through my cheeks.

  He stood at the doorway, but declined to follow me inside. “I’ll wait out here.”

  I immediately thought of what Mehara had told me. Was he really tainted somehow? Maybe he had been hit with some kind of curse. “Is there something wrong, Master Skye?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll wait out here for you.”

  “Okay...”

  I went inside and let my eyes adjust to the dimness. My first stop was at the font for holy water. I took a small flask from my purse and filled it with the blessed water. As I moved toward the pews, I saw two of the elderly ladies sitting near the front row, and a man just behind them with his head lowered in deep prayer. The third elderly woman was off to the far left, kneeling before a statue of the Virgin Mary and lighting candles. I walked over and knelt bes
ide her. After a few seconds, the woman crossed herself and lit a candle. She turned toward me and smiled.

  She retrieved a crucifix and pressed it into my hand. I mouthed a “thank you” and stood, making my way toward the front and wondering where the priest was. I needed the crucifix blessed, and if I could get any other items, then all the better.

  I slipped into one of the pews, just a few rows behind the man bent in prayer. When he finally raised his shaggy gray head and turned to face me, my breath caught in my throat--Gregory, the odd, broken Cruenti. Did he follow me all the way from Budapest? And what was he doing inside a church? I figured someone like him would’ve spontaneously combusted as soon as he crossed the threshold into the church. My chest tightened as I slid out of the pew and briskly walked toward the exit. I could hear his footsteps in my wake.

  He caught up with me in the vestibule and grabbed my arm. “Please, let me explain,” he whispered harshly.

  My muscle tightened where he held my arm, and it suddenly felt itchy. I didn’t like the idea of a Cruenti laying hands on me. I looked into his eyes, which seemed filled with remorse and sadness, and it confused me. I glanced at the exit, which stood just a few feet away. I could probably call for Master Skye if I needed to.

  “What exactly do you want to explain to me, Gregory?” I wrested my arm free from his grasp, brushing my hand against my skin, as if wiping away dirt.

  “I used to be a Cruenti, but not anymore.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “You don’t get to walk away from something like that.”

  “Thirty years ago, I repented and underwent an exorcism that broke my blood pact. Since then, I have not attacked or drained another wizard.”

  “Do you know how many Cruenti I’ve run into who said they had stopped draining wizards? Gregory, I can’t--”

  “I believe we all have a purpose, and my purpose is to help you. That’s how I found you.”

  I snorted. “So, you’re saying God sent you to Jakab’s building that day? And that’s why you’re here in Zagreb?”

  He nodded. “I didn’t plan to come here, but I was led. Sometimes, we must take a step into the dark and go on faith.”

  Great, a Cruenti who preached. This was turning out to be a swell day. “You looked like you were ready to harm me that day I escaped Jakab’s building. If you’re not a Cruenti anymore, then why do you still have fangs and react to wizards’ blood?”

  “I never meant to harm you or make you afraid. Perhaps...there was some damage done that I’ll never be able to rid myself of.” He offered me his hand.

  I crossed my arms. “I’m not comfortable reading you.”

  Wizards usually read each other through reaching out with their magical senses. However, if you wanted to read another wizard on a more intimate level, it could be done through the heightened senses of smell and touch. Reading a wizard could tell you if you were dealing with an ill or cursed wizard, a powerful wizard, or a Cruenti. If you read a wizard deeply enough, it could form an unnecessary connection. I definitely didn’t want to read Gregory, and I didn’t want him to pull me into some type of hazy tie with him.

  He spoke in a soft voice, as if trying to calm a frantic child. “I understand why you feel that way. I thought it would be easier to see who I am if you read me.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I kept my arms crossed.

  “Yes.”

  “I have a friend, Bianca, and she was kidnapped by a man who wants to become a Cruenti. Is it too late to save her?”

  He furrowed his brow. “How long ago was she taken?”

  “A couple of weeks ago, when they destroyed the Gray Tower.” I bit my lip, hoping he wouldn’t tell me that I was trying to save a dead woman.

  “The ritual ceremony is only done on a night with a full moon. You have two weeks left. I’m sorry about your friend.”

  The front door creaked open, and Master Skye leaned in. “Ready to go?”

  “Yes,” I answered, before facing Gregory again. “Meet me at the Mala Kuca Inn tonight.”

  The tension around his mouth eased. “Thank you. I will.”

  I’d just have Brande intercept him at the lounge tonight. He would probably deal with Gregory better than I could. I whispered goodbye and headed through the exit, still wondering how it was possible to renounce being a Cruenti. Like I had told Gregory, I’d met a few Cruenti warlocks who swore they no longer preyed on wizards--until they were caught with their fangs in one. If Gregory really did repent and undergo an exorcism, I supposed it could’ve destroyed his blood pact. Maybe he really did have some type of divine assistance, but I didn’t know him well enough to bet my safety on it. He may have saved me from Jakab, but he could’ve done so only because he wanted to drain me, and my blood would’ve been useless had Jakab shot me. Cruenti didn’t drain dead or poisoned wizards.

  Master Skye either didn’t notice or didn’t care about my exchange with Gregory, and was back in his jovial mood as he escorted me down the street. He almost bumped into another pedestrian because he couldn’t take his eyes off the view of Medvednica Mountain.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Last night, I was sorely tempted to take off and fly over there.” He wore a wistful expression.

  He sounded normal to me so far, but one never knew. Though suspicion gnawed at me, I didn’t want to just blurt out and ask if he was tainted. I had first-hand experience of what it was like to be labeled as different, or told that something was wrong with me. Instead, I chose a more diplomatic approach. “Master Skye, it seems you haven’t been well since your battle with Octavian. If you don’t mind me asking, did something happen?”

  I thought that was a rather nice way of asking if he was cursed or contaminated.

  His jaw tightened, and I could feel the muscles in his arm tense. He turned his gaze toward a line of German trekkers driving down the street. The convertible jeeps were weighed down with supplies and weapons. “We need to leave for Italy soon.”

  He gestured toward the entrance of a small tavern just ahead, and we went inside. The dining area was full of patrons and hummed with their laughter and conversation. A group of men sat at the bar, clanking their glasses in a cheer. Three men sat playing poker at a large, square table toward the back. They didn’t laugh or cheer like the others up front, and they weren’t shy about the weapons they carried. Either they were mercenaries or seasoned criminals. Or both.

  “Why don’t you order something and put it on my tab--compliments of Mala Kuca Inn.” Skye ushered me toward the table. “I’m going to play a while.”

  I glared at him. “You brought me here so you can gamble? With those guys?”

  When we reached the trio of men, Skye pulled up a fifth chair and gestured for me to sit next to him. “You’re going to watch a master player at work, darling.”

  The man across from Skye, who had long black hair and tattoos running down his right arm, frowned. “Our fourth player went for a restroom break. Are you sure you want to barge in like this, Allan?”

  Skye peeked at the hand of cards lying face down in front of him and smirked. “Am I to assume you’re still sour over my win yesterday? I’ll tell you what, Marvo, if he comes back, I’ll send him on his way. With a hand like this, I’ll be doing the guy a favor.”

  The other men at the table rumbled with laughter. I grew a little worried. The last thing we needed was an enormous man (whose name was probably Skull Crusher) to return and find Skye sitting in his place. After dealing with crooked police back in Hungary, we needed to make as little noise as possible. Law enforcement here couldn’t fully be trusted when Nazis were filling up the streets.

  I leaned into Skye and whispered, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  He rolled his eyes. “This is how I like to relieve stress. I’ve been coming in here for the past two days.”

  “They’ve got weapons. And probably prison records.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve sailed around the world a
s a naval officer and met all kinds of people. I can handle their type. We’ll be fine.”

  I clenched my teeth. “Can’t we go somewhere else?”

  “Do me a favor and order your lunch, sweetheart. All you need to do is sit there and look pretty.”

  I sat up straight. “You’re a jerk.”

  A waitress came by and set a drink down for me, and I ordered a hot soup. I also asked for the most expensive bottle of wine, and emphasized that it should be put on Skye’s tab. The other men grumbled, but let Skye sit in, starting up the game again. It looked like Skye was lying about the bad hand, because he began winning and amassing money.

  Marvo shook his head of long black hair as he threw down his cards. His corded muscles quivered beneath the black ink of his tattoos. “Don’t think you’ll take those winnings. Come back again tomorrow if you want to play the right way. That money goes to our fourth player, whose place you stole.”

  Yeah, Skull Crusher...

  Skye shrugged and looked to his left and right in an exaggerated manner. “Your fourth player is a no-show. He probably went up front to the bar to get drunk.”

  A pair of feminine hands grabbed hold of Skye, and the flat side of a silver blade slid dangerously against his throat. Everyone at the table grew silent. I glanced up and saw Nikon Praskovya, of all people, with her blonde hair hanging loosely just past her shoulders and her athletic frame wearing a white tank top and black trousers. She was far deadlier than any Skull Crusher.

  “Allan Skye,” she said in her Russian accent. “Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat this instant.”

  Skye drew in a quick breath, and she pressed the blade into his skin. He gritted his teeth and gazed at me. “I thought I told you to kill this woman.”

  54

  “Praskovya, Skye is with me.” I said it in a low voice as I met her cold gaze. She knew that I still held power over her.