His gaze shot to the doorway as Neco barged inside, Evelyn hot on his heels.
“Consito. Coepi. Fracta. Initium. Desino,” Kelan murmured, his eyes never leaving Greyston as he advanced.
The words to shut the celludrone down acted instantaneously, freezing Neco mid-stride.
Greyston cursed. He’d forgotten all about that little McAllister trick.
“Kelan, stop,” Evelyn hissed, thankfully staying close to Neco and the door. “Have you lost your mind?”
Her protest fell on deaf ears as Kelan took the step that brought him within striking distance.
Greyston raised his arms to ward off the inevitable attack.
“I have done many things,” Kelan said, his voice low and thin. “But you were supposed to be different.”
His palm sliced up before Greyston registered the intent. Pain cracked into his shoulder, then spread. A wave of nausea lurched through him.
Evelyn screamed.
Greyston’s vision blurred.
And Kelan was still speaking. “You were supposed to be the one to always put Lily first, no matter what. That was the only damn thing I could count on with you.”
This time, Greyston registered the punching fist a fraction of a second before it would make contact. He didn’t possess the lightning fast reflexes to block or even dodge. He clenched his jaw, closed his eyes and braced himself for the exploding pain.
SEVENTEEN
Kelan’s knuckles smashed into the wall an inch from Greyston’s head. He brought his clenched hand back and smashed again, again. He didn’t stop until his knuckles were raw and bloodied, until the bruising ache speared his skull and split the rage.
Greyston opened his eyes. No fury. No fight. Just dull-pained weariness in an ashen face. “Are you done?”
“I’m done.” He pulled his fist into his chest and backed up.
“She’s not dead,” Greyston said. “I don’t believe that.”
Kelan backed up some more, needing the distance. He should have smashed the stupidity from Greyston’s mouth and spared the wall. “I know that. Of course Lily isn’t dead.”
His gaze swept the room.
Evelyn, one hand pressed to her bosom, the other to her parted lips, all words and wit stunned to silence. Armand, standing just inside the door, arms folded, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Neco, paused in the moment like one of those wax sculptures of Madame Tussauds’.
He murmured the command to release the celludrone.
Neco’s momentum carried him in the wrong direction for a couple of steps before he refocused to Kelan’s new position.
“Neco, stand down,” Greyston issued.
“Please, don’t.” Kelan rolled his shoulders and rocked lightly on the balls of his feet. “Not on my account.”
The celludrone glanced between them, then made his choice, swiftly moving to Greyston’s side. “You’re hurt.”
Kelan looked, saw Greyston cradling one arm. Broken?
He’d gone too far, lost control…except he hadn’t, at least not without explicit permission. He could pinpoint the precise moment he’d made the decision to let go, to let the rage consume him. The moment he’d made sense of Evelyn’s breathless explanations and realised the hold Agares now had over him.
“Well?” He pinned Greyston with a cynical look. “Aren’t you going to rewind this? That’s how you fix everything, isn’t it?”
Greyston shook his head, his mouth pinched in either agony or disgust.
Evelyn came alive and rushed forward. “Grey, I am so sorry. He was in such a state when he arrived.” She shot Kelan a cold look, although she was still speaking to Greyston. “I thought it would help if I told him everything, if he knew that we’d actually had a plan, that Lily hadn’t just handed herself willy-nilly over to a demon.”
Her eyes returned to Greyston, her attention all over his injured arm.
Kelan left them to it, removing himself to the far end of the room. Restless energy roiled through him like a dark force. He’d been mistaken. He was not done. He wished Greyston would rewind time so he could do it all over again.
Armand, naturally, couldn’t leave him be. The man strolled up to him, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “You told me you could handle this.”
“I handled it,” Kelan said smoothly, slipping behind a mask of unaffected disdain. The mask came easily, as did the return to iron-clad control. He was so well-versed in the practise, it was second-nature. “You should see what you can do to help Greyston. That arm will need a splint and brace.”
“Kelan—”
“Don’t be so bloody dire,” he drawled at the use of his given name. Armand only resorted to such drastic measures when he worried Kelan’s world was on the tip of crumbling. “This isn’t how it ends.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Armand said heavily.
Kelan cocked a brow. “I’m not.”
Armand’s thin-lipped look cracked, but he didn’t press for more. He shook his head and turned to Greyston.
“It’s not broken,” he informed Evelyn, who was lightly prodding Greyston’s arm, searching for the break. “He’s dislocated the shoulder.”
Kelan felt a twinge of sympathy as Armand went to the rescue. There was a low-pitched grunt that lasted the full minute while Armand aligned the arm and popped the shoulder back into its socket.
Greyston spewed a string of curses as he tore away from the trio of helpers. He rubbed his shoulder, and kept his arm clutched close to his chest, but the colour that had bleached from his face was slowly returning.
“What did you mean?” he demanded from Kelan. “That you know Lily isn’t dead?”
“Agares carted Lily off instead of killing her on the spot,” Kelan told him. “That can only mean one thing. Agares hopes to use her as leverage to make me bend.”
Greyston’s eyes hardened. “Then Agares doesn’t know you very well, does she?”
Kelan couldn’t fault the assumption, but Greyston was wrong. As was Armand. He’d already made his choice, around about the time he’d given free rein to his rage. He couldn’t love Lily, so he didn’t. He couldn’t allow her affections to grow, so he pushed her away. All his life, he’d given everything, every part of himself, to the demon cause, but he was taking this. This wasn’t how it ended. Lily did not die. She would not be sacrificed.
He would bend, he would do whatever it took, and God knows what it would cost this world, but he couldn’t…he didn’t know how to lose her.
Evelyn cleared her throat. “If you gentlemen can sit around the same table without tearing each other to smithereens, I suggest we move this to the breakfast board. I’m famished, and I know for a fact that you, Grey, didn’t touch your supper tray last night.”
No one put up much of a protest as she ushered them out into the passage and to the morning parlour. Evelyn promptly dismissed the footman to give them privacy.
Neco stood sentry at the door, but he seemed intent on keeping a close eye on Kelan only. Until he noticed Greyston struggling to pile his plate with one arm still incapacitated and then he gave up both jobs to assist.
“You’re not entirely right,” Greyston said as he took his seat. “Agares may believe that Lily is in fact Raimlas, a demon that cannot be killed. And also, she knows—”
“She?” Kelan poured a black coffee, then brought the pot back with him to the table.
“I’m with Lily in this instance of gender determination.” He glanced at Evelyn. “Forgive the frank language, but Agares is a vindictive bitch.”
“Don’t mind me,” Evelyn snorted. “Vindictive bitch isn’t nearly vile enough to describe that monstrosity.”
“As I was saying…” He looked at Kelan. “Agares knows about Lily’s demon glass. It would seem she has known all along. So it stands to reason that Agares took Lily in order to keep us blind.”
Kelan sipped the bitter coffee while he sorted through the implications, setting aside his many questions for later. “Then there’
s that, too. From what I know, King Demons do not play well together.”
“And what cannot kill Raimlas might easily kill Lady Lily,” Armand predicted dourly. “We need to find her sooner rather than later.”
Evelyn sucked in a loud breath and pushed aside her plate of bacon and baked tomato, suddenly less famished.
Kelan leaned forward, elbows on the table, his eyes narrowed on Greyston. “Tell me everything, from the beginning.”
When Greyston started with the Gossamer and Harchings’ successful test flight, he slashed a hand through the subject. “I’m only interested in Agares and the other two demons, where they first appeared and where they went.”
The Gossamer could wait. He’d been chasing cryptic messages from Florence to Hampstead Heath to Surrey and now he needed proper detail so he could track Lily.
“Actually, Lily thought you’d know the place where they first appeared in her demon glass.” Greyston sat back, one hand going to his shoulder as he rotated the bone. “They were travelling the same mountain path as the Seven Dial demons and she said you recognised—”
“Cairn Toul,” Kelan breathed out slowly.
Armand’s coffee cup banged on the table. “Cairn Toul?”
“I can’t be sure.” He turned his furrowed brow on Armand. “There was something familiar about her descriptions, but you know how expansive the Cairngorm range is and those damn trails all look the same. But maybe… Is it possible? Could Cairn Toul explain her blind spot?”
“Honestly?” Armand pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “It’s not documented anywhere.”
“It wouldn’t be,” Kelan drew out. “We’ve never had much knowledge of scenting demons until Lily.”
“What the bloody hell are we talking about?” growled Greyston.
Kelan pushed his chair back and stood. “I have an idea where Agares may be nesting. Don’t get your hopes up, but it’s a place to start. Let’s go.”
“Ana’s still out searching the surroundings,” Neco said. “She hasn’t come in yet from last night.”
“I won’t delay,” Kelan said. “We leave without her.”
“I’ll let Ana know what’s happening,” Evelyn promised. She grabbed Kelan’s arm as they hurried from the room. “Find Lily,” she said, her voice desperate, pleading. “Don’t return without her.”
He paused in the doorway, giving her his undivided attention for a moment. “You have my word.”
For all their haste, they were stopped just as Neco prepared to raise the hull door. “It’s the Duke,” he called out. “It appears urgent.”
Kelan stepped out onto the platform, watching impatiently as Harchings sprinted up to them across the croquet lawn.
The man slammed to a halt at the edge of the platform. “Where’s Adair?”
“Down below, busy with the boiler,” Kelan informed him. “We’re leaving now. So either speak your mind or come aboard.”
“I can’t, I’m waiting on a Customs Dirigible to take me to Glasgow.” He looked at Neco, then back at Kelan. “What do you know about the Gossamer?”
“Enough.”
Harchings gave a nod. “I’ve been unable to make contact with my men.”
“How does this concern the Gossamer?” Kelan asked Neco.
“The ship is functional, fit to take to the skies—”
“That much I do know,” Kelan cut in. “What else?”
“The Gossamer is housed in an underground bunker outside of Glasgow. Lord Harchings was to send the order to have the ship destroyed.”
Kelan put two and two together and was less than impressed with the full picture.
“Let me get this straight.” He turned to Harchings. “You went against Queen and country to build a warship. That is treason.”
“Climb down from your high horse, McAllister,” the Duke bit out. “The Gossamer was built on Scottish soil and funded from my own pocket. That’s well within your damn laws.”
“Built in accordance with the regulatory specifications?”
Harchings conceded with a grimace. “That deserves a slap on the wrist, not a hanging.”
“You’ve allowed a warship to slip through your fingers,” Kelan said bluntly.
“Nothing has slipped through my fingers,” Harchings snapped. “I’m on my way to Glasgow right now to oversee the decommissioning myself.”
“Excellent.” Kelan stepped back from the platform so Neco could seal the hull. “I’ll expect you at Cragloden then with the good news when it’s done.”
EIGHTEEN
The first thing Lily became aware of was the cold. It bit at her bared fingers and trembled into her bones, chattered her teeth like a dead man’s automaton skull and burnt the tips of her ears.
The ground beneath her bottom was hard and damp. Her head slumped heavily, her chin drooped into the hollow of her shoulder, and the thought was there, to open her eyes and lift her head, but it took another full minute to muster up the will.
When she did, a new reality assaulted her foggy mind. She was no longer in the trunk. The full-body wraith had shrunk back into a half-corset, strapping her arms to her side. She was propped awkwardly into a corner of rough, uneven stone, but she could move. She stretched one cramped leg out as she looked around.
She was in some sort of shallow cave. Daylight crept in almost to her feet. She’d lost a night, and how much of this day? Something moved on the craggy, concave wall opposite her. She narrowed her eyes, squinting, and the patterns slowly took shape. Ropey, bulging patterns that looped with entwining whirls in a manner only vaguely reminiscent of the runes she knew, the circles scrambling over each other, moving, surging with angry life within the wall of the caves as if desperate to break through.
A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature folded over her. The Cairngorm Tear. This was the cave where the original deal had been bartered. That tempest wall was the veil between their world and the demon dimension. Which meant she was deep within the Cairngorm mountains, possibly stuck high up on a lethal ridge somewhere.
How did I get here?
Lily shook her head with a grimace. For all she knew, Agares could have commandeered the mind of a Baston & Graille Captain and sailed the Aether all the way up from Edinburgh. The possibilities were endless, and what did it matter? More importantly… She held her breath, listening for sounds. There was only the howling wind beyond the opening and the ghostly echo as the wintery gusts swirled deep inside.
Her heart began a frantic beat as she realised she was alone. She struggled to her feet, using the stone wall to slide her limp body up. She had no idea how far Agares had gone, how much time she had, and her limbs felt like custard, but it was now or never.
She shoved away from the wall with lurching steps, managed all of three paces before something tugged her back. She turned her head to see and let out a small cry. Icicle threads webbed the corner and stretched taut to accommodate the ends attached to the back of her corset, dazzling like diamond dust motes wherever they caught a stray beam of sunlight.
Lily gathered every ounce of strength within her to pull against the web, to jerk and yank and twist, but the demonic ice was as tough as rubber with barely any latency.
“How marvellous,” a horribly familiar voice trilled from near the opening. “I was beginning to fear you’d sleep right through my brilliant extravaganza.”
Lily clenched her jaw before her chattering teeth gave her away. It was imperative Agares continued to believe that she was Raimlas, and demons did not feel the cold. Neither do they sleep.
“I wasn’t sleeping.” It was more or less the truth. Agares’ tomb had sapped her strength and drained her consciousness. She retreated back into her corner, sliding down the wall to the ground with her knees pulled up against her chest, her wary gaze peering up at the demon.
“Look at you…” Agares sauntered closer, slowly cocking her head as she drew out the examination.
Fear clawed up Lily’s spine. She stabbed
her chin up, praying Agares didn’t see through the false bravado.
“You’ve spent so long playing the weak, little girl, you’ve forgotten yourself.” Agares snorted a laugh. “Or perhaps you wish me to underestimate you. Pathetic!”
She spun about in a whirl of velvet and paced away.
Lily took immediate advantage, straining her knee, forcing her leg into impossible angles, stretching her fingers until they ached. Damnation. No matter what she did, how she contorted, her fingers wouldn’t reach the blade sheathed inside her boot.
Agares spun back to her and Lily went limp.
“Why?” A low, breathless sigh escaped the demon. “We almost had it. Everything. You could have ruled at my side. All this time, and that’s the one thing I’ve never quite figured out. Why, dyanle? Why?”
Lily searched for an appropriate response, something Raimlas might say to soothe his…lover? The very notion shuddered Lily’s senses, but there it was, this niggle she hadn’t quite been able to place until now. Agares was truly acting like a lover scorned.
Agares hunched down in front of Lily. When her hand came out, Lily braced for the slap, but Agares only nudged her chin up and stared her in the eye.
“Never mind.” Agares straightened again. “Do you know why I’ve brought you here?”
This one, Lily did actually know. “To prevent me from interfering?”
“That was always your problem, dyanle. You always think too small.” Agares gave a throaty chuckle. “Of course you’re here so I can keep you bound, but there is more, so much more.”
She fell into an energetic pace between Lily and the cave opening. “I brought you here to show you how greatly your treachery has worked in my favour. You see, I never realised how heavily you curtailed my imagination, how small our dreams were, until you left me to my own devices. To think, you wanted me to be content with ruling this tiny isle when entire continents should be mine.”
“If you can get the Gossamer,” Lily said, “you intend to run to Europe.”
“If? Run?” Agares twirled her fingers dismissively. “There you go again, such small words. The Gossamer is already mine and I will conquer, not run.”
The Dark Matters Quartet Page 82
