The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set

by Tricia Copeland

  “What are you thinking about?” Grady questioned.

  “Camille. I shouldn’t be leaving her. This is all my fault.”

  “You can’t focus on that now.”

  I clenched the bar in front of the as the boat dipped in the rough surf. Grady outlined our next moves. He had an apartment in Rome where he kept money and extra passports in case of an emergency.

  “They’ll be enough for the four of us and an extra for Camille, when we rescue her.”

  “But how do we get to Rome?”

  “Same way we got here, mind control.”

  I hated relying on my magic and would feel safer once we got to Rome and got our identification papers and some money.

  Grady laid a hand on my shoulder. “This is not going to be easy for you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That brand. It will weigh heavier on you the farther you are from the Coven’s compound.”

  “Well, that’s something to look forward to. I think I can handle it though. We’ve been through a lot the past four weeks.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not. If she were my daughter, I wouldn’t want to.” I looked out into the dark night.

  “Enough said.”

  We sat in silence the rest of the trip as the boat rose and fell with the swells. The surf pelted the windows, and I hated that we couldn’t see where we were going. I thought back to the day we arrived on Sardinia. The view hadn’t been much better. With the fog, we’d only been able to make out some ten feet in front of the ferry. I forced memories of the prior journey out of my head. Dwelling on my time with Camille wouldn’t bring her back. Assembling an army with Alena’s resources was our best chance at rescuing her.

  The engine slowed, and I stood, trying to pick up any light beyond the boat. Within the next few minutes, a couple of glowing spots appeared off the bow. The assistant ran from the bridge, through the main room. We followed him outside and helped tie the ship to the dock.

  Grady thanked the Captain and worker, and I nodded to show my appreciation. We made our way up the wooden ramp, to the street above.

  “The airport is on the opposite side of the Island.” Grady pointed to the west.

  “I know. We need a taxi.”

  Leaving Grady on a bench, I jogged up the street to the business district. I found a bar and hailed a cab waiting outside. Waving him back to where I’d left Grady, we piled in. Grady spoke some Italian to him and the driver yelled and motioned for us to get out of the car. Using my mental coercion abilities, we got him to agree to take us to the airport at Elmas. Still feeling like we were bobbing on the water, I fought nodding off. Grady shivered beside me, and I handed him one of the meal packets and a third jacket. We’d need to get him a decent outfit. Realizing my pants and shirt were caked with soil, I brushed the dirt from the fabric.

  The city lights stung my eyes as we passed street light after street light. Finally, the cab driver pulled up to the terminal entrance. Grady thanked the man, and I copied his words, thinking I should be paying more attention to learning the language than feeling sorry for myself. Inside, Grady and I made our way to the shopping area. My guilt over our transgressions ratcheted up as I suggested to the clerk that we didn’t need to pay for our new clothing. The attended bowed over and over to us as we backed out, thanking us for using his business.

  “How was that so easy?” I asked Grady as we entered the men’s room.

  “Some minds are weaker than others.” He shrugged. “The airlines are going to be tough. Let’s get some hot coffee in us after we clean up.”

  I was glad that Grady’s strength seemed to be returning and hoped the coffee and pastry would bolster him further. As I watched him eat, my mind drifted back to the previous forty-eight hours. Miguel had woken me before midnight and taken me to the chapel. I’d read and re-read every detail about the ritual. It included sharing blood with the elders. To ensure they couldn’t track me, I’d taken one of Camille’s birds, cracked its neck, and stuffed it up my sleeve. I hated that it had to be her canary, but figured the other animals would be missed. When the time came to slice my arm, I held my wrist under the table and sliced into the bird, letting the blood flow into my hand. Raising it over the bowl, the bird’s blood mixed with the others. I doubted the witches gathered there noticed the off flavor, but for a quarter vampire who’d tasted human blood, it was obvious there was something other than people blood in the bowl.

  Adding the bird’s life to the list of my sins, I refocused on Grady. As he sipped his coffee, I noted he had no seal on his arm.

  “Why don’t you have a seal?”

  “Only Michael’s coven uses the brand. They practice a dark magic that binds them to the coven leader and to their ancestors.”

  I leaned towards him to keep our conversation from being overheard. “You mean like the dead?”

  “Yes, they draw power from their fallen coven members.”

  “Do you think that’s what they’re going to do with the sword, bring them back?”

  “That’s a good guess.” He cleared his throat as our waiter approached. “Do you want anything else?”

  “No.” I waited for the server to leave. “I have allergies. I can’t eat processed foods.” Thinking of my vampirism reminded me of Camille. I wouldn’t have known about my mom or any of this if it weren’t for Camille. Trying to avoid a mental spiral, I asked Grady more about the brand.

  “The brand is like a tether to your soul. It should have prevented you from doing anything against the coven’s wishes. That’s how they control their people and keep their power.”

  “And the weight of the brand is why everyone lives close together?” I asked. “So, going to Iceland is going to be…?”

  “Like the worst pneumonia you’ve ever had.”

  “Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes and set my napkin in my lap. “I’m guessing me staying here would be a bad idea?”

  “I think I need you to help convince Tyler and Camille’s mother.”

  “I wish I had some type of proof. This”—I held out my arm—“just looks like a tattoo.”

  “You have your magic.”

  “Hopefully.” I slouched in my seat. My head had begun to ache, and I closed my eyes. Hearing someone approach, I opened them and straightened my back.

  Finishing our coffee, we surveyed our airlines choices. Grady picked a desk with a young female attendant. As we approached, the woman flashed a wide smile, aimed straight at me.

  “She likes you, use that,” Grady whispered to me.

  When we reached the counter, I leaned over so there was barely a foot between us. Reading her name tag, I did my best to pronounce the name with an Italian accent.

  She giggled and covered her mouth, repeating her name with the correct inflection.

  Grady spoke to her in Italian, I assumed explaining our situation. Look at these poor men, I used magic to suggest the thought.

  Wide-eyed, she looked between us. I continued to suggest that we looked like honest people who needed help using my mind control skills. Glancing around, she called to a nearby gentleman.

  “Damn,” Grady said under his breath.

  The woman helping us spoke to the man in hushed Italian. The man stepped up to the desk.

  “Do you have identification? Some bank we can call to verify your funds?” he asked in broken English.

  “We lost everything.” Grady turned his hands up. I focused on what might sway the gentleman. They have the funds, and I could get a tip out of this, I suggested with my magic.

  He threw his hands in the air and started yelling at us in Italian.

  “This isn’t working.” Grady started to back away from the counter, and I did the same.

  The man took a whistle from his chest and blew it, yelling, I assumed, for security.

  Grady grabbed my arm. “Get to a crowd and cloak us so we can get out of here. I’m sure we were being filmed.”

  “Dang.” I swung to see
people exiting a ramp a few gates down and pumped my arms to propel myself to them. Hearing Grady a few steps behind, I didn’t look back. Uniformed guards approached from every direction, and I ducked around a family toting multiple bags. Reaching back for Grady, I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the center of their group. The dad looked wide-eyed at me as I enacted our cloaking spell.

  “Now run,” Grady whispered in my ear.

  He didn’t need to tell me again. I gripped his arm as we hurled down the hall, dodging passengers. Nearing the exit, I realized the guards had created a barricade. I communicated to Grady that we should jump together, and he appeared beside me. Three, two, one, I sent to him, jumping about five feet in front of the line of men. Fist out, I punched the door open. When we landed, I lost his hand but grabbed his arm the next second.

  The guards swarmed out of the terminal but stopped their pursuit on the sidewalk, milling about and yelling at each other.

  “Let’s try one of the charters.” Grady pointed to the small hangars as we ran.

  “You’ve got be kidding, I’d rather swim at this point.”

  “They don’t have security.”

  “Okay, but I get to pick.” Holding our cloak, we walked into the hangar. Several planes were being serviced, and I surveyed our choices. Picking out the oldest looking plane, I ducked behind a large metal toolbox. When I pointed to the ride I’d chosen, Grady shook his head. It’s our best bet, I told him.

  I let go of his hand and discontinued our cloaking spell. “I get to choose this time.” I repeated my previous demand. Rounding the shelves of tools, I approached a mechanic tinkering with one of the engines of a small jet.

  “Is this for hire?” I asked, sending thoughts that we looked like we could make him rich if he helped us.

  The man looked from his work to me. “Italiano.” He shrugged and turned back to the motor.

  “Sir.” Grady spoke a couple of sentences of Italian while I used my mind control. The man shrugged, dropped his wrench, and walked to a partitioned office.

  “What do you think?” I asked Grady wondering how my English language formed magical suggestions were working on Italian speaking people.

  “No clue. I told him I would pay them double when we landed in Rome.”

  The mechanic exited the small room with another man, who was dressed in a pilot’s shirt. Reaching us, the uniformed gentleman said a couple of Italian phrases.

  Grady seemed to be haggling with him. I watched the mechanic as he finished his task, closed the compartment on the motor, and secured it in place. Seeing Grady and the pilot shake hands, I relaxed. The next piece had fallen in place. If it weren’t taking me farther away from Camille, it would have made me infinitely happier.

  The ride was bumpy, and Grady clutched the armrests in his fists. I’d never feared flying or of much of anything. The brand on my arm and worry for Camille occupied my thoughts. I needed to stay strong. Grady had indicated the effects of the seal would be magnified the farther I got away from Sardinia, and I hoped my magic wouldn’t be affected.

  “So, there’s a way to get this seal off?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed hard, explaining that the process resembled an exorcism. Each of the marks of the brand created a tether to my soul. One by one the links had to be extracted. Only a few witches knew the spell, and fewer still were willing to use it to extract Michael’s coven’s brand.

  “I thought you said only Michael’s coven had a seal.”

  “All the lines have a seal. Only Michael’s coven requires it. Some covens give the option. Others never use it. It’s sort of about freedom of choice.”

  “But you know someone who you think would be willing to remove it?” My leg bounced as I contemplated all the unknowns that awaited me.

  “For a price.” He shut his eyes as the plane dipped again.

  “What kind?”

  “You were smart enough not to ask how much.”

  “What? Like my first born or something?” Camille’s face popped into my head at the thought of having a child. I squinted my eyes, wondering where the stream of consciousness had come from. I was seventeen for goodness sakes.

  “Usually years.”

  “Like years of my life?”

  “Yes, she is able to transfer your years to herself.”

  “If I’m going to live a thousand years, I can probably stand to lose a few. Have you seen it done? How long will it take? Couldn’t I get it removed before we go to Iceland?”

  “No, it is at least a ten-day process. They disconnect each tether from your soul by winding it around a stake, making a small quarter turn every hour or so, so the tether doesn’t break. You could picture it as detaching a vein from your heart by drawing it from your wrist.”

  I drew in a deep breath. “We can’t afford ten days. We’ll have to speed it up. I want to find Alena and Hunter as soon as possible.”

  “How do you propose to do that?”

  “We have all the clues from Camille’s visions. She created a document describing all her hallucinations. I memorized it. She saw Alena’s mom, Anne, escort Alena and Hunter to a safe house. If we get to the Anne, she will take us to Alena and Hunter.”

  “Why would she trust us?”

  “Camille’s visions, they will believe.” They had to accept our story. I would do anything to get them to trust me. It was our only hope.

  “Prepare for landing.” The captain announced over the intercom.

  “Not sure how that is different from now,” Grady commented as he tightened his seat belt.

  The mechanic acted as the co-pilot, and I could see him flipping switches. Then he spoke into a radio in Italian, I assumed getting clearance for landing. The plane dipped and swerved as we dropped altitude. Grady’s complexion turned an ashen green, and I prayed he didn’t puke. Out the window, I watched as we descended through the clouds and the city’s lights appeared below us. I’d always wanted to come to Rome. My fascination with religion and its credibility drew me to the city. All it took for me to believe had been for me to become a mystical being, and I chuckled under my breath at the idea.

  “You find my fears funny?” Grady gripped the seat.

  “No, sir.” I sat up straight. “Just laughing at myself. I never believed in God or miracles. Now I am supposedly descended from angels and can perform them.”

  “You’re only part angel. Don’t let it go to your head.”

  The plane jerked as the back wheels hit, and I braced for the complete landing. After another bump, the engines slowed, and we glided to a stop.

  “Better now?” I asked as we unbuckled our seatbelts and stood.

  “Not until my feet hit the pavement.”

  A cab arrived for us within ten minutes, and I climbed in the front while Grady and the pilot took the back seats. The streets grew narrower and transitioned from modern asphalt to cobblestone as we neared the city’s center. I took in building after building, barely believing I was finally in Rome. Passing a statue of an angel, I thought of Camille. I guessed she would love to see the Vatican and the Sistine Chapel. When all this craziness was over, we’d explore the world together.

  The cab came to a stop. Before I could reach for the handle, the pilot had a knife at my throat. I knew not to make a move, but in my head, I mentally laughed. As if I couldn’t kill him with a thought.

  He spit something at Grady in Italian, and Grady responded in kind. I gave Camille’s father credit for his show of force. Up until that point, I wasn’t sure how much of an ally he would be in a real fight.

  “I’ll be five minutes.” He nodded to me. I figured he hadn’t given the cab driver the real address. That would have been stupid.

  “I’ll be here.” I hated the feel of the blade on my neck. It reminded me of Camille and the cold weight that pressed on my chest. On the verge of using my magic to shove the blade into his heart, I balled my hands into fists. The cab driver yelled at the pilot, and I wished I’d studied something other than Chinese. The
driver ended the rant with the word polizia and reached for his mobile phone.

  The pilot turned the knife on the driver. The wide-eyed cabbie jumped from the car and slammed his fists onto the roof. I looked at the pilot, and he aimed the blade at me again. The pilot said something else in Italian, and I assumed it to be a threat of some sort. Again, the word polizia came up, and I guessed he didn’t want police involvement any more than I did.

  Seeing Grady approach, I breathed a sigh of relief. My eyes cut to the pilot and back to Grady, praying Grady had enough to satisfy the man. I didn’t want to harm anyone else. The image of the two guards I’d killed rescuing Camille flashed through my mind. Wondering if I could erase memories, I watched as Grady paid the cabbie, opened the back door, and slid in beside the pilot.

  Grady laid the packet of money on the seat and slid it to the pilot. The pilot made an exclamation in Italian. Grady reached for the package. Withdrawing the blade from my skin, the pilot pointed it at Grady. Opening the envelope, he laid the bills out one by one.

  Knife still in the air, the pilot took the money and stuffed it in his coat. He shoved the door open, jumped out of the vehicle, and ran down the street. The cab driver yelled at his retreating form.

  “What now?” My breath formed a cloud in the air.

  “Let’s go.” Grady tilted his head to the street.

  As we exited the car, the driver turned his attention to us. Bowing in apology, we backed away from him.

  I followed Grady up a hill to the corner. Halfway to the next block, he turned down an alley. The brick homes were lined up, one after the other with barely a foot between each. After the third house, we made our way down a flight of steps to a wooden door. Waving his hand in front of the entrance, Grady depressed the lever on the handle and ushered me in.

  “It wasn’t locked?” I scanned the room in front of me wondering if we were safe.

  “Magic. I spell the house so only I can get in.”

  A single bulb hung above a table, and Grady pulled the chain. Light illuminated the room, revealing a stove, cabinet, and small refrigerator on one side and cot on the other.