by Petra Landon
“Time to try a different approach. DiZeyla makes a good point, Durovic. Instead of chasing after more evidence against Lady Bethesda to convince the First Ones, it might be easier to use the past charges against her. The barrier to persuading the Ancients of her activities after Chicago is too high, but we don’t have to convince them of her earlier crimes.”
Faoladh grasped what the Alpha was proposing. “ElThor pushed Esmeralda to stop Bethesda all those years ago and was personally involved in hushing up the events in Chicago” he noted, his voice ringing with approval. “He’s seen firsthand the havoc she wrought before. If we prove to him that Bethesda survived the blast at the Registry, he’ll join us in making her face the music for before.”
Duncan’s brows drew together. “And, if others are proven to have aided her to hide from justice all these years, the Ancients might agree to go after them too?”
“I believe so.” Faoladh was confident.
“I like it, Merceau.” Jason made it clear he approved of the strategy. “Let’s focus on proving to the First Ones that she is alive, rather than engaging in an uphill battle to convince them she’s bent on destroying our world. Makes little difference to me if she faces justice for Chicago or her actions after it.”
“But for that, we must force her out in the open” Raoul pointed out.
“That can’t be too hard, not after Portland” Elisabetta professed. “Plus, she’s already broken cover with Faoladh.”
“It will not be easy, Elisabetta” Faoladh warned. “Bethesda is cagey. She is aware of the risk she courts by showing her hand too early. Right now, the past is the only thing that hangs over her head. She will stay in the shadows, until she’s absolutely sure she’s been absolved of her past transgressions.”
“By you” Raoul pronounced, putting into words what they all suspected. “At least, that’s what she believes.”
Faoladh did not deny it. “Be that as it may, there will be no outsmarting her on this, Raoul. Even a public declaration of support from me will not persuade Bethesda to emerge from the shadows.”
“Then, we outmaneuver her another way” Roman said.
To everyone’s surprise, Faoladh made an astonishing observation. “Raoul has the best shot at forcing her out into the open.”
Raoul’s eyes tangled with that of the Alpha Wyr. He’d landed a few metaphorical blows during their only encounter, but Faoladh held greater sway over her. After all, Lady Bethesda had convinced herself that, as the custodian of The Prophecy, she would be championed by Faoladh.
“Trust me on this, Raoul” Faoladh reiterated his point. “You’re gotten under her skin. Her brief conversation with me was fixated on you. From me, nothing short of a public pact will do. She knows my history with Scot and is aware that everything she shills for goes against my beliefs. Yet, for some reason, she’s convinced herself that I will throw away my principles because Scot’s prophecy says so. But despite how fervently she believes in my role as foretold by The Prophecy, she will protect her flank until she’s absolutely sure that the danger from past crimes has been averted. You, on the other hand, she’s wary of but believes she can sway to her cause.”
Weeks in the past, deep in the Belizean Rainforest
She must have dozed off at some point, for when Temi opened her eyes, the first streaks of dawn loomed over the horizon. Below her, in the pale light, the green canopy rising through the mist looked serene, with no specks of flying Vampires to pollute it. The sight of it reminded Temi of how high she was and the precarious perch she dozed in. Her hand shot out to hold on to the branch under her, as a streak of raw fear stabbed at her heart.
“Time to leave” announced the deep, rich tones of the man the Chosen had once dubbed the assassin.
She turned to him, the hand, clutching the branch she straddled, white with strain.
In the breaking light, cloudless slate-gray eyes met her gaze. The pale eyes looked very different in the light of the sun.
Something of her fear must have showed on her face, for he said calmly in that incongruously smooth voice. “I bound you to the tree. You would not have fallen.”
Temi took a deep breath, to loosen the grip on her perch. “Are the Blutsaugers gone?”
“They moved on a few hours ago” he said easily.
She looked alarmed. “You should have woken me.”
“It’s safer to wait for the sun” he declared. “Now, we have till sundown before they hunt again in earnest.”
He climbed down first, after undoing the magic that bound Temi to the tree. She followed more slowly. Morning dew complicated the descent and her shoes slipped and slid as she struggled to gain purchase. Once she was past the high branches, the going was even harder, the trunk slippery under her. Temi slid carefully down it. She was nearly two thirds of the way down when disaster struck. Her foot slipped and, as she scrabbled to lock on with her arms, her other leg buckled. With a yell, she went hurtling down, her locked arms around the trunk saving her from a hard fall.
He was nearly to the ground when she crashed into him. By then, Temi’s eyes had closed in terror, her battered hands holding on for dear life. He had but a few seconds of warning — her cry had him glancing up to see her come skidding down. Letting the rucksack drop to the ground, he prepared to break her fall. She slammed into him, and he used his body to hold her to the trunk with his weight. As the rush of air subsided, Temi opened her eyes.
“Let go” he directed. “I’ll get you down.”
But in her fright, Temi only held on more desperately. Her arms and palms were scratched raw, the sting a reminder of the near calamitous fall.
“If there ever was a time for you to trust me, Red” he said clearly. “This would be it.”
Temi willed her pounding heart to slow down. The forest teemed with sound, the chirping of birds a soothing balm after the rush of fear in her. She cast a glance down — the ground didn’t seem that far off. She could feel his muscles bunching as he strained to hold them both. But he was patient and did not rush her. Temi forced herself to let go.
“Hold on to me” he said.
And she did.
He moved them down, inch by straining inch. Temi held on, letting him do the work as he had asked. Once below, he let go of her and she slid onto the ground. He said nothing, though she could feel his eyes on her.
She tested her ankle gingerly but the shooting pain had her wincing.
He came down on his haunches. “Let me see.”
Temi shot him a look as he reached for her ankle. The slate-gray eyes flashed to her, too close for comfort. A shaft of sunlight hit him, transforming the eyes from calm gray to gleaming silver. This near, she could see the opaque silvery depths. But she didn’t bother to read him. Temi suspected that she was done for. Her shot at freedom had lasted only one night.
“It’s no use” she confessed heavily, holding her despair in with an effort. “I can’t outrun the Blutsaugers with a bum ankle.”
Something, another trick of light perhaps, had the silver eyes shimmering. “I’m going to feel your ankle” he warned her, reaching for it.
Temi didn’t protest, only wincing once as his fingers probed it. He was surprisingly gentle, his touch sure.
“It’s a twist, nothing’s broken” he said calmly. “You’ll be sore but you can walk.”
Immense relief had Temi closing her eyes. She was not to return to the Blutsaugers.
When she opened them, he met her gaze. “Your shoe, on the other hand ...”
To her dismay, Temi noted that the flimsy sole of one shoe had shredded through, to expose two of the middle toes.
After his assurance had given her renewed hope, Temi was reluctant to give up.
“I have another pair back in my room at the resort” she offered.
He shook his head. “It’s too late for that. They have discovered your absence.”
Temi’s face fell.
He held her gaze. “Unless you’ve changed your mind and wan
t to return?”
This time, there was no hesitation. Temi shook her head firmly.
He pulled out a t-shirt from the rucksack and proceeded to methodically tear it into strips. Wetting one strip with a little water from a bottle in the sack, he handed it to her.
“Clean your palms and hands, as best as you can. We’ll hit a river soon and you can wash up.”
While Temi carefully cleaned the scratches, he bound her ankle efficiently with another strip from his stash. Once it was strapped, she leant against the tree to test her ankle again. He was right. There was some soreness but nothing she couldn’t handle.
“Hungry?” he asked her.
She shook her head.
He reached into the sack to hand her a protein bar. “Eat it. You have a long trek before you.”
Still a little shaken up, Temi dutifully chewed on the bar. It was bland but filling. He wolfed down his in silence, a faint pucker between his brows. Once she was done, she helped herself to water from the bottle and cast him a sidelong glance. He must have caught it, for he turned to her.
With the sunlight bathing them, the silver eyes pinned her down. “How does the ankle feel?”
“I can walk” she assured him. More like hobble, but she would take it.
“Good.”
He reached for her ankle again. “I’m going to bind your shoe to your foot. It should protect it from the forest floor.”
Quickly and efficiently, he strapped another strip from his t-shirt around the toe of her foot, to cover the hole in the sole.
“Watch your step” he warned her. “Let’s make sure it gets you to today’s destination.”
“Another tree before sundown?” she inquired.
He shook his head, zipping up the rucksack, before fluidly getting to his feet. “Change of plans. There are caves about six hours from here. The shoes will get you there.”
Temi wondered how she was meant to go on after. Her shoes might make it to the cave, but they would not last long. Her makeshift footwear would get shredded by the forest.
He helped her to her feet. “We have the day to get to the caves and I won’t set a punishing pace. If your ankle hurts, ask me to slow down.”
Temi limped slowly into the forest after him. He was being unaccountably and unexpectedly kind, and she didn’t know how to handle it after his fury the night before. The man was like a chameleon. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he surprised her.
Temi would remember that walk through the rainforest for years to come. Under her, the ground was strewn with moss, leaves and other debris, while above her, tall trees crowded together to bar the sun, even as she blindly followed a stranger deep into the forest, accompanied by the sweet symphony of chirping birds. True to his word, he set an easier pace and made frequent stops to allow her to rest her ankle. It was damp and cold and Temi was glad of her jacket. When a gust of rain hit them an hour later, he had them under a dense outcropping, dry from the shower. What had he said the night before, about being one with the earth, Temi mused, as she watched him surreptitiously? He seemed to read the cues from the forest and its denizens — they warned him of flying Blutsaugers and approaching rain showers. And he was able to shroud himself to become one with the trees. Whatever magic he had, it was very powerful and unique.
By midmorning, they were at the river. By now, the sun was out and it was warmer. Temi’s ankle was in decent shape, the soreness almost gone but the forest floor had been brutal to her shoe. By the banks of the rushing river, she undid the binding and slipped her foot clear of the tattered shoe. The strip of cloth, he’d used to cover the damaged sole, fell apart as the shoe came off. Temi noted in alarm that the other shoe was in no better shape either.
“Wash up” he directed at her, before adding a warning. “The river’s swelling and the current is strong.”
It was winter in Belize, the peak of the rainy season. And the fast-flowing river brought with it mud and silt from the banks. Temi planted her bare feet apart, grounding herself before leaning forward to wash her arms. The water was surprisingly cool and clear, despite its muddy depths and the dirty brown color. When she stepped back onto the bank, her companion was nowhere to be seen.
Temi perched on the ground, letting the sun dry her. By her estimate, they had covered a quarter of the distance to the cave. Surprisingly, they had encountered no stray Blutsaugers out hunting late. Though they preferred to keep their distance from the sun, Temi suspected that a healthy fear of Monseigneur might make a few brave the daylight. Or perhaps, ElMorad’s trick with the shrouding magic had bamboozled the Vampires, to throw them off. Without her scent to track, the forest was vast and would keep them busy.
Her companion emerged into view, his hands full of leaves. In the light of day, he looked even larger than in the shadows, the pale eyes glinting silver under the sun. It was a severe face, Temi concluded, but not an unattractive one. The light eyes stood out against the darker skin; the thick black hair gleamed under the sun, the hint of curls subtly softening his harsh features; the hard, square jaw spoke of determination; the sharp blade of a nose gave him an air of arrogance and the dark stubble on his face gave him an aura of danger and rakishness. But it was the turn of his lips that hinted at softness and passion, striking a discordant note from the severe features, much like his deep, rich voice that flowed like aged wine. A man of few words but an amazingly patient one, at least on occasion. She had misjudged his intentions, Temi recognized, allowing her own doubts and fears to paint him as the villain when he’d given her no cause.
He kicked off his shoes to step into the water. When he emerged, it was to grind a few of the leaves between two pieces of hard stone. A greenish paste was produced and he held it out to her.
“Smear this on the scratches. It will disinfect them.”
Temi wrinkled her nose at the strong odor but did as he asked. Her arms were scratched from the friction against the rough bark of the tree, when she’d attempted to break her fall. While she slathered on the paste, he made another trip to the river to clean two large leaves and place them to dry on the bank.
“You are familiar with the forest” Temi commented as he joined her, her eyes on the greenish goo on her arms.
“I’ve spent time here.” He was cryptic.
Temi was not surprised. She’d been counting on him to put in an appearance at The Games. Her research had indicated that, though ElMorad had once been a regular feature, especially in the ring, for the last few decades, he’d been absent from the bouts. But she had hoped that he might still make it to The Games for nostalgic reasons. And she’d been proven right.
After distributing another protein bar, he reached for the large thick leaves he’d cleaned, astonishing Temi by using them to swaddle her feet in place of the wrecked shoes. After a few tries, where he asked her to test the bindings, he had them just right.
They proved very comfortable and easy to walk in, while protecting her feet from the debris on the forest floor.
“Four hours” he declared, hefting the rucksack up.
He set off for the trees and Temi followed.
“Then, what?” she asked.
“We’ll be at the caves” he said.
Yes, but I can’t stay there forever. How do I outrun the Blutsaugers without shoes? But Temi didn’t ask the question aloud, afraid of his answer.
Midafternoon, they were at the cave. Her excursion guide had talked about a large network of underground caverns and sinkholes in Belize, once utilized by the ancient Mayans. Temi wondered if this cave too was part of the same network. Its opening was obscured by a fall of foliage that her companion brushed aside to usher her in. From the way he led her unerringly into it, she was sure ElMorad had been here before. Inside, the cave was massive, shadowy and yawning with a small stream cutting through it. Temi stared around her, a little overawed by the cavernous grotto. Sunlight streamed in through the foliage at the entrance, to light up part of the massive structure. Away from the en
trance, the stream forked into two tributaries, one a little more than a trickle but the other more substantive. The larger tributary meandered deeper into the cave, until the cavernous darkness hid it from her. He followed the smaller tributary to an opening that led into another cave. A dark space greeted her, the only light a mere hint of the sun that leaked in from the larger grotto through the archway.
Unearthing a flashlight, he turned it on. In the light, Temi noted that the cavern was tiny. And that the stream covered a majority of it, to leave very little bare ground. The water appeared clear and deep under the light of the torch.
“This is a good place to hide” he proclaimed.
Temi agreed with him. The Blutsaugers hated water. They would not venture near it unless they scented her. Thanks to him, the shrouding magic had taken care of that possibility.
“Are you afraid of the dark?” he asked her.
Temi wasn’t. “No.”
She watched as he retrieved her spare clothes from his rucksack, to pile them neatly in a corner, along with a heap of protein bars and the bottle of water.
“I’ll leave you the flashlight” he remarked, digging into the sack. “Use it sparingly. I don’t have another set of batteries.”
Temi took in his preparations. “You’re leaving me here?” she asked.
Though her question had come out evenly, he abandoned his task to stand up and face her. In the torchlight, the slate-gray eyes were mysterious and shadowed.
“Just for a day. You’re shrouded with magic from the tree we spent the night in. It’ll wear off by nightfall, but if you stay in the cave, the Vampires will not find you.”
Temi said nothing, merely watching him.
“There’s a village half a day’s trek from here” he explained. “I’ll bring back supplies and shoes for you. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck here a lot longer.”
She sighed, unable to deny that what he was proposing made sense. Yet somehow, the idea of being trapped in a cave, while Monseigneur’s Undead hunted her, did not sit right with her.
He slung on the rucksack and offered her the flashlight. “I’ll be back before dark tomorrow. Remember, don’t leave the cave and your scent will not betray you.”
