The Dark Matters Quartet

by Claire Robyns

  Agares, swooping up with that sneering smile. I should just end you eternally and be done.

  Wrapped in Kelan throughout the night, falling asleep to his gravel whisperings of sweet nothings and heart-wrenching everythings.

  The long tail of an iced whip licking at her. Sparks leaping from Agares’ fingertips.

  No!

  One certainty flooded Lily. Determination weighted her flyaway emotions and conviction heated through her blood.

  She stepped inside into the foyer and pulled the door closed.

  There was another way.

  There was always another way.

  She found Kelan in his study. He looked up from behind his desk as she entered, his dark blue gaze casting for her soul.

  “This is the reason you wouldn’t father the next McAllister heir,” Lily said, walking up to him. “Not because of the life he or she would live, but because of how they’d die.”

  Kelan leaned back heavily in his chair. He cocked his head, watching her, running a hand through his hair, scraping aside silky layers that shaded the wound gashed across his cheek.

  When she bumped up against the table opposite him, she pressed her fingertips to the desk. And waited, patiently, giving him all the time he needed.

  “I was always going to be the one who ended this,” he said finally. “Before I learnt of your existence, of your unique ability, the plan relied on sniffer dogs and a network of McAllisters crawling the country. My child was destined to die, probably young, possibly by my hand.”

  “By your hand…?”

  “The veil feeds off the McAllister heir bond. To seal the Cairngorm Tear, no McAllister heir can live.” He stood, pushing back his chair. “I decided long ago that I would be the last heir. This ends on my watch.”

  “You told your father—”

  “I told my father what he wanted to hear.” He came around the desk and perched just to her left, facing her. “There was never going to be a whore, Lily. There was never going to be another heir.”

  His gaze was magnetic. She couldn’t look away and her heart ached, ached with all the love she still had to give.

  “How did you find out?” he said.

  “That I did find out is all that matters.” She lifted her thumb to graze his cheek, tracing a path below the scar that was still a brown-red scab. He was beauty, dark and ravaged, and all hers. “I’m not letting you go. You’re not the only one who can seal the tear.”

  He shifted, sliding between her and the desk, so she was suddenly wedged between his thighs. “Gorgon is not an option.”

  “You don’t have all the facts.” Lily stepped back, out of his predatory heat and the smouldering intensity of his eyes. She knew what he was up to and she wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t sink into his love and pretend blissful unawareness for the short while until he left her.

  Kelan crossed his arms, his jaw squaring into a grimace. “I remember what you said. Agares hinted that a demon could be eternally ended and yes, maybe that does mean a demon can be killed, but Gorgon hasn’t even surfaced once this century.”

  “Gorgon was here, in the dungeon with Raimlas, held captive by your uncle,” she said, and she proceeded to tell him everything about Duncan’s memory box and how she and Greyston had been interrogating the store of information.

  The true sadness struck her as she spoke. She hadn’t chosen Kelan over Ana, hadn’t needed to. Kelan would have bled Ana dry of memories to save the world, but he wouldn’t steal a single one to save himself.

  When she was finished, he didn’t berate her for keeping the memory box secret. He merely hung his head and slid his eyes to her. “That is interesting, but it changes nothing.”

  “It changes everything!”

  “How?” he challenged, his voice too calm, too controlled. “Do you honestly believe that if you listen long enough, you’ll overhear a convenient discussion between Raimlas and Gorgon detailing the exact ritual involved in killing themselves?”

  She scowled into his shuttered eyes. Blast the man, he’d slid straight back into his old shell. There was his path, and his path.

  “What are you hoping for?” he said quietly. “What exactly are you asking of me?”

  “Time,” she said just as quietly. “A week, a month, a year. Give me time and I will find another way to end this.”

  “And how do I do that?” He pushed away from the desk, the shutters falling from his gaze, the depths of longing clear for her to see. “How do I spend a week, a month… How do I spend a year loving you, and then find the will to leave?”

  “You don’t.” Her heart twisted. Her limbs ached to go to him, to throw herself into his arms and hold on forever. “You don’t leave, Kelan. That’s the entire point.”

  He turned abruptly, those long, confident strides taking him to the window. “And what happens while we’re waiting for Gorgon to reappear? What happens while our lives are stalled on fighting the endless stream of other demons that will come through? What happens when Agares rises again, or another King demon with even more ambition?”

  He turned from the window to look at her, his rugged face harsh with the lines of arrogance and cold defiance. “What happens when you wilt before my eyes, searching for answers that cannot be found? What happens when I fail and die unplanned, without an heir, and whatever demons are topside remain free to walk this earth forever?”

  “What are you asking of me?” she threw back at him.

  “I was asking for one more day with my wife,” he said. “One more night with you and you alone, no demons, no outside world, but that’s impossible now.”

  “You already have my forever, Kelan, all you have to do is reach out and take it.” She looked at him, pleading openly, her pulse hiccupping, but he was already gone from her. He wouldn’t take anything for himself.

  In that moment, she hated him almost as much as she loved him. And she loved—fiercely—all those selfless, noble qualities that she hated.

  “It’s okay,” she told him, understanding. He had his way, and she had hers. “I’m not letting you go, Kelan, that’s all there is to it.”

  She walked out on that note, before her smile could falter, before she wasted another precious second. There was no point in dwelling on what would never be.

  Greyston loitered at the bottom of the stairs, his face far too ashen, his limp worse than she’d seen in months. “Did you talk to Kelan?”

  He wasn’t well enough to be up and about, but Lily held her tongue and nodded. “Are you waiting for the dirigible Captain?”

  “Only if you don’t need me first,” he said wryly. “I presume we’re not going to indulge Kelan’s foolish notions.”

  Her heart twitched. This was exactly why she could have loved Greyston in another life, in a time and place meant to be. “What did you have in mind?”

  His grin came out. “We already have a dungeon and I’m sure I could rustle up some chains.”

  “We’ll save that as a last resort,” she said, biting on a tight smile. “Complete your business with the Captain, but then come find me in the morning room. Oh, and has Neco come in yet?”

  “Come in from where?”

  “The stables,” she said, assuming that was a ‘no’ and hurrying past him.

  Neco had been teaching Ana to ride and most mornings, that was where the two of them could be found. Today was no exception. She brought them both back with her to the morning room, figuring two flawlessly retentive brains with impeccable logic were better than one.

  Once she’d brought them up to date with the Cairngorm Tear and why the means to find and kill Gorgon was imperative, she explained further.

  “I’m going to start at the very beginning and list each and every encounter I’ve had with any demon, any bit of information I’ve picked up along the way, anything I’ve guessed or assumed or ruled out. Once you have all the pieces, I’m hoping your minds can sort the data better than I’ve been able to.” She took a deep breath as she looked from Ana t
o Neco, putting all her trust in them. “We’re missing something, we must be. My gut tells me I know the answer, even as it eludes me.”

  “We’ll find the answer if it’s there to be found,” Neco said.

  They’d made fair progress by the time Greyston joined them.

  Seeing he’d come alone, Lily asked, “Where is Georgina?”

  “She offered to tool the carriage to carry the Captain back to his home near Dundee.” Greyston propped himself against the glass and wicker sideboard, a warm gleam in his brown eyes. “The ship is staying.”

  Dundee? Lily couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice. “She’ll be gone most of the day.”

  “You’ve clearly never seen Georgina at the reins,” he drawled. “She’ll be back for afternoon tea, if not sooner.”

  “I hope so,” Lily sighed. “She did spend quite some time alone with Agares and she may have valuable input.”

  “Is that what we’re doing?” His brow rose as his gaze went across the room to where Ana and Neco stood. “A post mortem on the Queen bitch?”

  “If you mean Agares,” Neco said, “that would be physically impossible.”

  “We don’t have a body,” added Ana.

  Neco nodded. “And Agares isn’t dead.”

  Lily uncurled her feet from beneath her and stretched her legs as she brought them back on topic. “Not only Agares, but every demon we’ve had contact with. I need every scrap of information, Greyston, no matter how inconsequential you may think it is.”

  They settled down to the task on hand until Mrs. Locke interrupted for the second time, wondering whether they’d be wanting their midday meal or if she should clear the table.

  “We’ll be right there,” Greyston assured the woman, then turned to Lily with a half-baked grin. “We’ll function better on a full stomach.”

  “Actually,” she sighed, “we’re probably finished here. We’ve exhausted every little detail.”

  They had more answers than when they’d started, but not the right ones. Lily knew they were close, however, so close, she felt as if she could reach out and touch it.

  She glanced at Greyston. “You can still rewind today?”

  “Yes.”

  She worried her lower lip, thinking. “We have plenty of strong leads. If I organise my questions properly, a half hour with Duncan’s memory box may give us what we’re missing. You don’t mind?” she said to Ana.

  “Not at all, and if you need longer than a half hour, take it.” Ana slid her hand in Neco’s and looked up at him. “For every memory I lose, we’ll make another,” she promised.

  Lily blinked back a sudden swell of tears. What had she ever done to earn such utter love and loyalty? She remembered something Ana had said. My primary directive is to protect you… But this was so much more. Ana had extended that directive, all on her own, to include Lily’s heart.

  “Let’s give them a minute,” Greyston said, sounding slightly gruff. He tugged her from the room. “It’s not as if they need food.”

  The dining room was empty except for Mrs. Locke, fussing with the heating tray.

  Lily paused on the threshold. “I’ll see if Kelan will join us.”

  “I’ve already asked, m’lady.” Mrs. Locke straightened to look at her. “Armand informed me that his lordship is out.”

  Her brow wrinkled on Greyston. “With Georgina?”

  “Definitely not,” he said. “I saw her and the Captain off.”

  “Then where?” Lily muttered, entirely to herself, then to Mrs. Locke, “And Armand?”

  “In the library, last I know,” Mrs. Locke replied. Her lips pinched in disapproval, and she looked as if she might say more, but she was not one for gossip.

  Lily spun on her heel, thoughts racing. Fanciful, improbable thoughts, and she tried to temper them, but could do nothing about the hope bubbling in her veins.

  What if he’s changed his mind? What if he’s gone looking for an alternative to death?

  And then she knew. The moment she stepped into the library, she knew.

  Armand hunched in a corner of the sofa, nursing a whiskey in the middle of the day. Imbibing at all hours might be Kelan or Greyston’s style, but this wasn’t Armand. The crooked posture. The glass of amber liquid. The haunted depths in obsidian eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers.

  “He’s gone,” she whispered hoarsely, her hands balling into tight, useless fists. “He’s already left for the cave. He’s going to do it today.”

  “We have the dirigible,” Greyston’s voice came from behind. “We’ll get there ahead of him.”

  Lily didn’t turn. We have the dirigible. “When did he leave?” she demanded of Armand.

  Armand scrubbed his jaw, shaking his head. “A little after ten.”

  Lily’s heart dropped into her stomach. He’d barely waited for their talk to settle. He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.

  “It’s not yet one o’clock,” Greyston said. “How many hours would it take Kelan by horseback?”

  “Five… Six hours?” Armand set the glass down and rose to his feet, his gaze finally meeting hers. “If you knew how hard it was for him to go, you wouldn’t do this. If you bring him back, he’ll just have to find the strength to do it all over again tomorrow.”

  “I’ll see you at the top of the ridge.” Greyston’s hand landed on her shoulder. “She’ll be fired and ready to leave as soon as you are.”

  “No, wait.” Lily shifted to put both men in her view, clamping her heart against the premature grief threatening to overwhelm. She couldn’t fall apart quite yet. “He’s right. If we go up there with nothing, Kelan will refuse to return with us.”

  Greyston’s grin was granite hard without a trace of amusement. “That’s why Neco’s coming with.”

  “We have…” Lily churned the math, then said, “At a conservative estimate, we have two hours to work with. How long will the trip take by air?”

  “No time at all on the Red Hawk,” he shot back. “But in the Rat? We should give ourselves an hour, and another quarter hour for the trek from the nearest landing spot.”

  “Then we can spare the half hour in the lab,” she decided, grabbing his hand, dragging him out into the passage.

  Greyston will rewind the half-hour, she told herself. We’ll still have two hours. One hour in the air, another hour for leeway.

  Every fibre in her body ached to race up that mountain instead of deep into Cragloden’s belly to the laboratory in the dungeon. But this was Kelan, and she knew her husband too well. An army of Necos wouldn’t stop him once his mind was set.

  TWENTY SEVEN

  Kelan pushed his horse hard, slowing to a trot only when absolutely necessary, pressing his own pace in the intervals when the harsh terrain forced him to dismount.

  He’d always intended to make a day of this last journey. Take the time to absorb the magnificence of the snow-capped peaks, the craggy ravines that swallowed him, the ruthless beauty of Scotland’s nature carved all around him. He hadn’t given it much thought throughout his life. He was no saint, no natural-born martyr. If he spent too long thinking about what must be done, he would never do it. Deep inside, however, he’d intended…

  The wind grew more bitter the higher he climbed, cutting to the bone. Kelan didn’t mind. He welcomed the burn against his cheekbones, the brutal fingers that clawed a bit of feeling into his numbness. He didn’t want to go out like this, masked and shut down even while he still drew breath.

  But he didn’t know any other way to do this.

  He didn’t know how to stay another day and night with Lily, and walk away. Not now that she knew. Not when she’d force him to spend that day and night thinking about all the tomorrows they’d never have.

  He didn’t know how to look into her beautiful eyes, filled with passionate pleading, and deny her heart.

  He couldn’t.

  If he’d stayed one more hour, he would have stayed forever.

  And so he didn’t.

&n
bsp; For the final leg of his journey, Kelan dismounted, keeping a hold on the reins as he led his horse into the valley. The last time he’d walked here, he’d been a mess. The cliffs towering on either side were riddled with large crevices. Plenty of places for a demon to hide. He’d gone through the motions of scoping ahead and to the sides for the ambush, but his senses hadn’t been into it. Not with Lily in Agares’ clutches. Not when he didn’t know, not truly, what he’d find when he got to the cave.

  Burr blew his nostrils, the energy that poured from the veil aggravating the even-tempered stallion.

  “There, boy, this is as far as you go.” Kelan hooked the reins around a jagged edge of stone.

  He flapped open a saddlebag and delved inside. The apple was for Burr, who nibbled at it while nuzzling Kelan’s open palm. The whiskey was for Kelan. He gripped the bottle loosely by the neck and covered the remaining distance to the cave in long strides.

  Smoke filtered from the mouth, giving him fair warning of what he’d find inside. Liam and Archibald sprawled in front of a roaring fire, throwing dice and tossing random insults at each other.

  Kelan leant a hip to the entrance wall, watching for a moment before barking, “Good day, lads.”

  Liam jumped a foot.

  Archibald rolled and came up with his sword raised. “Christ,” he growled when he saw Kelan. “Ye tread softer than a bloody doe.”

  “Seen any activity lately?” Kelan asked, moving closer to the fire.

  “We would have sent word if we had,” Liam said defensively, ruffled from having being caught off guard.

  The astute one of the two, Archibald’s gaze travelled to the bottle dangling at Kelan’s thigh, then up again. “It’s time.”

  “It’s time.” Kelan crossed to the wall of runes, his eyes roaming slowly from one end to the other as he pressed a palm flat to the churning stone.

  From an objective point of view, the veil was a beautiful creature, each elaborate rune carved into the heart of the stone moving to its own rhythm in artful synchrony like a damned symphony.

  He uncorked the bottle and brought it up, tapping the neck against the veil.