Half a millennium. Five hundred years ago. My God, how old was Archer?
“Once the trio learned to control their urge not to kill,” Logan continued, “Archer took them exploring through the worlds. The Sidhe land, where they met with Queen Maeve and Titania, Oberon and all the Sidhe royalty. To the Tristan star, where they met Verenastra and Elvilachious and their clan. To Earth, where Arianna and Zantry liked best. Everywhere they went, they were welcomed; they were liked. The prospect of another galaxy full of other beings intrigued everyone.
“Though Remo Drammen had gone along, showing as much enthusiasm as his kin, it was later said that he was already planning how he'd open the portal to his world, to bring more of his kin to these 'lands of wonder', where he planned to rule them all.” Logan took a sip of coffee and stared into the mug for several seconds.
“Arianna was the first to learn about it, when Remo Drammen proposed a joint partnership, where they would rule together. At first she went along, either because she wanted what he wanted, or because she wanted to know what he planned.” He waved a hand. “Whichever is true, she went along with the idea at first. But she'd seen the problem right away. If the trio had killed an entire planet to be able to manifest, what would happen if they brought an entire planet to these worlds?
“So, when the idea started to turn into fact, Arianna tried reasoning. Then she threatened him. But Remo Drammen would have none of it, claiming he could control them, keep them from manifesting too soon, too fast, from ending all the life and energy from all the worlds.
“Because they were close, Arianna went to Archer, explained the problem and the disaster they were all facing. Archer enlisted the aid of his clan, the Sidhe royalties, even the other clan of rejected. For he understood Remo Drammen was an unknown, a very powerful being, and to underestimate him and face him alone was to doom the entire universe.
“They ambushed Mr. Drammen. It was a vicious fight. No.” He shook his head. “It was a slaughterhouse. There was no equal to any member of the trio but each other. Everyone who perished then was considered a hero and is still talked about as such. At the end, either the sheer number did it, or the combination of numbers with Zantry and Arianna. But, finally, they were able to decapitate Mr. Drammen and chop him up into small pieces, as a guarantee. Then they burned his remains.”
An image of Remo Drammen being eaten alive came to mind, and I closed my eyes and tried to push away the horror. He'd screamed back then, but I'd recognized the outrage for what it was.
“For a long time everyone believed they had won, that they were finally free of him. But one day, when Arianna and Zantry were unaware, Remo ambushed them and took them by surprise. Of course, if Remo Drammen couldn't die, neither could his kin. For a time, while everyone wondered what had happened to Zantry and Arianna – where they had disappeared to – Remo Drammen worked on the portal unperturbed.”
“Where do they go when they die?”
Logan shrugged. “Don't know. It was after Arianna and Zantry returned that everyone learned they were tethered to the Low Lands. Every time they die, they reappear some place in the planet. Only they come back with the same amount of power – the same amount of energy – they possessed when they first manifested, after they'd drained the land. Whatever they'd gathered, whatever energy they'd accumulated that didn't come from that first draw, they lose once they die.”
“Does that mean that Remo, if he's back, is weaker than before?”
Logan's lips pulled into a mock smile, his gaze flat. “He won't be back until he's gathered enough energy, accumulated enough power, to satisfy his ego. He has no morals, no qualms whatsoever to harness whatever life is available to fulfill his needs. If he's back, it's because he deems himself strong enough.”
“Isn't there another way to stop him?”
Logan placed both palms around the empty mug of coffee and rolled it gently. “Once, twenty-six years ago my team, a handful of the most trusted Hunter members, plus Zantry and Arianna, came close enough. Because killing him without locating the portal was out of the question, the deal would be to immobilize him, bring in the Sidhe to help locate the portal, and then, once found, work on the portal. Arianna had this theory where she believed Cara would be able to destroy the portal, or at the very least, permanently freeze it. But everything went to Hell and we never got around to it.”
And now Cara was dead, and possibly Arianna too. The more Logan talked, the worse the situation became. I almost covered my ears when he started speaking again. I didn't want to know.
“There was a meeting between Akinzo and Arianna, bait to draw out Remo. They both disappeared. Through our bond, I sensed Cara was in danger and went after her. Archer left to search for Arianna and Zantry. While I lay dying, Mr. Drammen was picking the rest of the team one by one. By the end of the first month, there was only Archer, Doug and I left. To sum it up, everyone assumed Arianna and Zantry were truly dead, that Remo Drammen had somehow found a way to kill them, or maybe pushed them back through the portal. Then a few months ago, bam, Zantry's back, claiming he'd been on vacation, exploring the worlds and reminiscing over the early years.”
“But you don't believe that.”
Logan snorted. “No. We think he flipped sides, joined hands with the enemy.”
“But why wait this long to come back? Maybe Remo trapped them, and Zantry managed to escape?” I offered, thinking about a half-dead Zantry Akinzo, hooked to a myriad of machines back in the PSS.
Logan shook his head, though I could tell he was considering it. Then he shook his head again. “If Akinzo and Arianna were trapped all these years and Akinzo managed to escape, he'd have been gathering forces to go after her, not strolling around, attending parties and connecting with old acquaintances. At the very least, he'd have told us something. We've all met with the Enclave and have tried speculating as to what he'd been doing this entire time, and the only plausible scenario we were able to come up with was that it took them this long to be able to kill Arianna.”
At my silence, Logan sighed. “Look, I know he didn't look like he was a dangerous person with plans to end the world, but looks are deceiving. Zantry Akinzo is a very dangerous man, a very powerful one. He and Remo Drammen are the same species, come from the same planet. If you feared Remo Drammen before, it's wise to extend Zantry Akinzo this same courtesy.”
Chapter Eighteen
When Vicky arrived that afternoon bubbling with excited questions about my “date” with the “hunky chunky”, I was curled on the sofa and staring at nothing.
Shocking thoughts rampaged within my head, jumbled facts that jolted every time one registered. Betrayal. Love. Loyalty. The power struggle of the preternatural world. The obliteration of life. On every single planet.
And Remo Drammen was at the center of it all, still alive. Somewhere out there, he was planning the extinction of everything we knew.
No wonder all the Hunters resented me when Vincent ruined their ideal chance to catch Remo that night in Vegas.
I'd killed Remo in the Low Lands, setting him back in his plans.
But now, according to Logan, he was back, a shifting current in the air they couldn't pinpoint.
And he was going to come back – for me. Because, for some reason I couldn't fathom, I fit right into his plans for destruction.
The worry and guilt I'd felt for Mwara was overshadowed by the certainty that something horrible was about to happen. It clenched my stomach, tightened my muscles, filled me with dread.
I'd taken Logan to Maggie's Heaven – the bakery where I'd met with Mwara, retraced our steps to where she'd been waiting for me, then walked back home in a hazy state, my thoughts and emotions at war with each other.
Where did you go, Mwara? Are you even alive?
Curling my feet, I placed my chin on my knees and hugged myself.
Atop all the shocking news I'd received that morning stood one more: Logan had lied to me about being a were. He was a wolf, the way Xandra was some s
ort of cat, or Boris a hunting bird. I could sense his wolf, yes, and maybe he even had some vampire, too.
Well, mixed breed that he was, he was also disguising his aura … a rejected from Diggy's line. I wondered if Rafael was a rejected too. Hadn't Diggy said that some rejected from his line could make their auras look and feel like a shifter's, depending on how many shapes they could take? It made sense for Logan and Diggy and Rafael to be from the same species, given they were all friends.
But why would Archer raise Logan and not the other clan? Maybe there was something more to his mixed-breed status that I couldn't sense.
Ha! What a joke I must be to everyone, trying to figure out something as simple as an aura. Inherent, my ass; this was as hard as trying to fly without wings.
Dhiultadh, General Parkinson had murmured that night in the bus. Vincent had distracted Remo Drammen to give me time to escape – either aware, or unaware, that Logan was getting ready to break me out from the other end.
Two rejected – from different lines, the same clan. I should have known, what with him being buddies with Diggy. If anything, last night's lesson should have shed light into it. Maybe I'd have figured it out, given time. And then… Mwara. I wondered if Logan had already told Elizabeth that her daughter had come to see me, terrified that her mother was about to send her to the PSS. How would she react to this news?
“What goes around comes around,” Elizabeth used to say to me when I was a kid.
“Hello? Are you even listening to what I'm saying?”
“Huh?” I scanned Vicky's frustrated expression.
She sighed, then sat beside me. “Was it that bad?”
“What? The ball? It was another lesson. It wasn't a date.”
“No shit, he really dragged you dressed like that to work?” Again she sighed, this time louder. “Men are such weird creatures.” As she got up to answer her ringing phone, I lapsed back to my misery.
When she returned and sat beside me, concern radiated from her in gentle waves. “What is it?” she asked for the fourth or fifth time.
“It's nothing, really.”
“There's something bothering you. Why don't you tell me? It helps to talk.” When her phone rang again, she snatched it, quickly disconnected without even glancing at the display. Her worry increased, wafting off of her in little waves.
I motioned to her phone. “Who was that?”
“No one.”
I caught the quick flash of fear in her eyes and, frowning, I picked up her phone, only to have it snatched from my hands.
“It's nothing.” Her smile was brittle and nervous as she got up and ambled to the kitchen. Picking up Frizz, she buried her face in his neck and inhaled a shaky breath.
“Vicky, what is it?” I asked, rising. “And don't tell me it's nothing. Remember, I can sense it.”
Her shoulders slumped and she turned to face me. Now that I was really looking at her, I noted the shadows under her eyes, the grim lines around her tight lips. How long had they been there? How come I hadn't noticed them before? What kind of friend was I? A bad one, I realized with a pang of remorse.
“It's that old asshole. You know, David.”
“Who?” I raked my mental files, trying to remember which one had been David. “The old boyfriend? Is he bothering you?”
She shook her head. “No, no. It's just that he keeps calling. Coming over. It's nothing, I guess, but it has me spooked. He leaves small love cards at the door. Likes all my tweets, my posts, my photos. Changes his account when I block him, finds whatever new account I create for myself. Leaves love songs on my voice mail. Sends me chocolate and flowers.”
I frowned, not liking the sound of that.
“It's disconcerting. I feel suffocated, like I'm being stalked, you know? I've told him no so many times, I've lost count.” She shrugged, causing Frizz to bounce and gave me a thin smile. “It's just a foolish feeling. I bet it doesn't even come close to what have you all wound-up and brooding.” Her tone was light, but I sensed there was something more. There was a deeper worry there, something like fear with a bite of anxiety.
I narrowed my eyes, walked up to her. Her shoulders tightened, her gaze lowered for a few blinks. This close, I could sense the fear, a deep worry, and – a sort of joy, a faint happiness, both overshadowed by the darker emotions.
“It's nothing, really,” she met my gaze for a second before glancing away, unable to look me in the eyes and lie.
“Vicky, aren't we friends? If he's bothering you, tell me. I can help.” By God, I would. This, I could do. Even if I had to threaten him myself.
Vicky's shoulders slumped, giving her a vulnerable appearance I'd never seen before. Not even when we were children. She'd always been wild and confident, and the more courageous of the bunch. The more daring, even compared to Tommy.
“I'm pregnant,” she whispered.
The news gave me a numbing jolt. Of all the possibilities, all the things I'd have considered, all the cases, all the scenarios, her being pregnant would have never been among them.
I searched her downcast eyes, unsure of what to say. I'd tell from her words, her behavior, that it was a bad thing. But there was that buried joy, that happy feeling, underlying all those emotions.
I treaded carefully. “That bothers you.”
Her worried gaze met mine, and the fear was back.
“Is David the father?” I asked, beginning to see the bigger picture now.
She nodded with a jerk, burrowing her face in Frizz's neck. The gargoyle burrowed closer, soaking in the warmth Vicky offered. His shell-shaped eyes closed, a deep rumble of pleasure escaping when Vicky caressed his back, between his small wings.
“Vicky, is the baby the reason David is –” I almost said stalking “– trying to get you two back together?”
“No, no.” She spoke into Frizz's neck and shook her head before looking at me. “He doesn't know. I don't think I want him to know. I don't know what he'll do if he finds out.”
“Are you considering an abortion, then?”
“No!” A fierce spark entered her eyes. “The baby is mine. But,” A tear trickled down her cheek, followed by another, and another.
My eyes widened with horror, and I took Frizz from her and placed him down, grabbed her hand. “Come sit.” I guided her back to the sofa and let her cry for a moment, feeling useless. I patted her shoulder a few times, passed her a tissue. Some time later she finally got herself under control and looked at me, her misty blue eyes tinged with red. And she burst into laughter.
Oh my God.
She laughed harder, and I froze, a little panicked. I considered calling Tommy. He knew her better, had probably dealt with a hysterical Vicky often.
Stiff and wide-eyed, I was afraid to do something that might provoke another bolt of tears. Or more laughter.
When she was able to control herself, she spoke. “You are hilarious.” And burst out laughing again, fat tears tracking down her face.
“I'm glad you think so.”
When the bout of tears and laughter finally passed and I deemed the moment safe, I spoke. “Are you sure you're carrying? You guys haven't been together for a while.”
“I'm about eleven weeks. I saw a doctor on Friday. I was getting ready to drop the news yesterday when dimple arrived.”
“Eleven weeks!”
She chuckled at my astonishment. “I know. I was afraid to go to the doctor, afraid of what I would find out. At first I was worried the test would come out positive, and I kept thinking what my life would be like with a baby, how I'd need to change. I gave it so much thought, the idea started growing on me. And then I was afraid the blood test was going to come out negative. So I kept procrastinating.” She placed a hand over her flat belly, her lips forming a soft smile. “I heard its heart beating. The doctor said that soon I'd start feeling it move around.”
I leaned back, studying the wonder in her puffy eyes. “How did it happen?” The second I caught the amusement in her eyes, the m
ischievous glint, I added, “you know what I mean. You didn't tell me you were planning to get pregnant.”
She sobered. “I think he tampered with … you know?”
A soft blush suffused her cheeks, and I frowned. “Tampered with what?”
“We used protection. All the time. But he talked about family, about getting married a lot. I told him I was too young for that. He knew I wasn't taking any pills.”
I frowned. “Do you think he knows?”
“No. I was probably only a few days pregnant when I left him.”
But he maybe wonders, I thought.
“What are you going to do?”
“I'll have my baby. If I think it's necessary, I'll go back to Sacramento and start over again.”
“But you aren't going to tell him?”
“No.” The panic returned to her eyes. “If he finds out, I'll never get rid of him. He'll fight, and when he realizes I'm not going back to him, he'll fight for custody. He's influential, he knows people who know people. I'm afraid he'll take my baby away from me.”
“Vicky, what are you saying? He's the father. He deserves to know he's got a kid out there in the world. You two can share custody. He could–”
Vicky grabbed my hand in both of hers and squeezed hard. “No, he'll never settle for shared custody. He's old-fashioned, the kind who thinks women should stay at home popping out babies while the man provides for them. He'll want marriage. And when I say no, he'll go to court. And he'll take my baby away.”
“It's not up to him to decide what'll happen. I can talk to Roland. He knows people, too.”
She shook her head again. “What if I win, but he takes the baby all the same and runs away?”
I could tell she'd considered all those angles already. “We can try to get a restricting order.”
“Already talked to a cop. I filed a complaint.” She rose and scooped up Frizz. “I feel better. Thanks for letting me dump all this on you.”
I waved a hand, “Dump away whenever you feel like. Just try not to put on the waterworks again.”
Heir Of Doom Page 14
