Sometime around noon, I drifted into a light slumber.
The sun was sinking toward the horizon when a noise finally woke me. I blinked at the orange light pouring through the curtains and sat up slowly. The sound of a commotion came again.
It had originated from the ground floor of the mansion.
I gathered my swords and guns, and left the room.
Angry voices erupted from the foyer as I approached the stairs. I paused at the top and studied the scene below.
Bruno and Anatole stood in the middle of the dimly lit vestibule. They held a man between them, their fingers clasped in an iron grip around his upper arms. A black canvas hood covered the stranger’s head and face. Anatole reached out and tugged the cowl off. The man blinked in the light.
The stranger was short and sported a ferret-like face. Blood trickled from his broken nose and split lip, staining the white shirt under his jacket. His hands were tied behind his back.
‘What is the meaning of this—this transgression?’ he roared, struggling in his captors’ grasp. ‘If you don’t release me right now, the First Council will hear of this!’ He glared at Bruno and Anatole.
‘The First Council already knows,’ said an ominous voice. ‘In fact, as Head of Counter Terrorism, I don’t even need their approval to arrest you, Marcus.’ A shadow detached itself from the wall.
Marcus Pinchter looked around. ‘Gabriel.’ The color drained from his face. His gimlet eyes hardened a second later. ‘Does Roman know about this?’
‘Not only does he know, he thoroughly approves,’ said Gabriel with a grim half-smile. ‘After all, you tried to kill his only son and successor.’
The man swallowed convulsively. ‘It wasn’t me, it was the Crovirs,’ he mumbled. ‘And they weren’t trying to kill you. They were only after the woman.’ His nervous gaze flicked to Sheila, who stood watching impassively from the doorway of the study. Godard appeared behind her.
Pinchter took a step back. ‘What—what are you doing here?’
‘You mean you didn’t know when you betrayed us in Vienna?’ Gabriel snapped. ‘Sheila is Tomas Godard’s granddaughter.’
‘No.’ A hunted expression dawned on Pinchter’s face. ‘I swear to God, I didn’t know! The Crovirs never said—’ He broke off, his lips pressed in a thin white line.
Gabriel scowled. ‘So you do admit to helping the Crovirs?’
Pinchter clenched his teeth and remained mute.
I started down the stairs.
Pinchter looked up at the sound of my footsteps. His eyes widened. ‘The half-breed? But that’s impossible! You died! Amos Thorne himself—’
I stopped at the foot of the staircase and watched Pinchter expressionlessly.
‘“Amos Thorne himself killed you”. Is that what you were about to say?’ Gabriel said silkily in the taut silence that followed. ‘The interesting thing is, he did. And, as you can see, the “half-breed” survived his seventeenth death.’ He glanced at me with hooded eyes. ‘It’s our little secret for now.’
He crossed the foyer and placed an arm casually around Pinchter’s shoulders. ‘Now you, my dear man, need to share some of your own secrets with us. Bruno and Anatole have volunteered to keep you company while you divulge these pearls of wisdom to me.’
‘I can’t,’ Pinchter said flatly. ‘Santana will have my head on a plate if I say any more than this.’
‘Look at it this way,’ Gabriel said icily. ‘You will die, here, today, if you don’t tell me what I need to know.’ He paused. ‘However, if the information you provide us with turns out to be useful, I promise I’ll do my best to keep you from the clutches of that woman.’
‘That’s impossible!’ Pinchter retorted. ‘You have no idea what you’re up against this time. Santana is—’ He stopped and clamped his lips shut once more.
Gabriel patted Pinchter’s back in a friendly manner and motioned to Bruno and Anatole. ‘Fear not, Marcus. You’ll talk. I promise you that at least.’ He headed down the corridor that led to the kitchen and opened the door to the cellar. ‘Down here if you please, gentlemen.’
Pinchter’s protests faded as he disappeared below ground. The door closed softly behind the four men.
Cigarette smoke wafted past my head. I looked over my shoulder.
‘He’s a scary man,’ said Ashely, strolling down the stairs.
Godard sighed. ‘He needs to be. He’s the future leader of the Schwatzs.’
An hour later, footsteps rose outside the study. The door opened and Gabriel strode in.
‘This is taking too long,’ he said, frustration evident in his tone. He rubbed the bloodied knuckles on his right hand absent-mindedly.
Sheila looked away, a muscle twitching in her jawline.
‘Can we help?’ said Ashely mildly.
Gabriel looked at us. His gaze focused on me. ‘Yes, I think you can, actually,’ he said after a moment.
The cellar under the mansion was large and cool. Racks of dust-covered wine bottles occupied a generous portion of the extensive floor and bare light bulbs cast a yellow glow on the brick walls.
Pinchter sat tied to a chair in front of a table at one end of the vaulted space. Bruno stood silently behind him. Anatole leaned against the wall to the side, a frown darkening his normally jovial countenance.
Pinchter’s face was a bloodied pulp. His nose was broken in at least two places and his left eye was swollen shut. His right wrist was twisted at an odd angle.
Undaunted, the little man spat out a broken tooth and sneered.
‘What now, Gabriel? You’re going to set the rest of your dogs loose on me?’ He glared at us out of his bloodshot right eye.
‘Just let me shoot him,’ muttered Anatole.
Gabriel shook his head. ‘No, that would be far too easy. I have a better idea. I’m going to leave you in the hands of the “half-breed”, as you like to call him.’
My eyes narrowed at the Schwatz noble’s words.
Pinchter’s widened. ‘You wouldn’t dare!’
Gabriel smiled coldly. ‘Oh but I would.’
Pinchter glanced at me and snorted. ‘He couldn’t do anything even if he wanted to. Look at him!’ An ugly grimace crossed the man’s lips. ‘You know as well as I do that he has never attacked an immortal in cold blood. All he ever does is run!’
Ashely took a step forward. I put a hand on his arm and felt the rigid tension running through him.
‘It’s all right,’ I said quietly, my eyes never leaving Pinchter’s battered face.
The little man smirked. ‘See? Your half-breed is nothing but a coward! Every Hunter knows it. How such a weakling could come from the bloodline of Tomas Godard—’ He broke off abruptly.
A hush fell across the cellar.
‘The tip of this blade is exactly an inch from your heart,’ I explained in a low and measured tone.
Pinchter gulped. His frozen gaze drifted to the wakizashi partially embedded in his ribcage.
‘I believe you’re aware of my abilities?’ I added in the same neutral voice.
The little man nodded frantically.
I was surprised at how calm I felt. The anger that had been burning inside me for days had all but melted away.
In its place was another, stronger emotion.
‘You’re right,’ I stated, more to myself than to him. ‘So far, I have only ever killed to defend myself.’ I watched understanding begin to dawn on the man’s startled face. ‘I think I’m beginning to grasp why Santana wants me out of the way.’
I nudged the blade slightly. The immortal gasped. Blood seeped onto his shirt.
‘It’s because I truly am the only one who can stop her. I believe that’s what Mikolo meant when he said those words to me.’
The expression in Pinchter’s eyes confirmed my suspicions. I leaned forward. Pinchter moved back in the chair as far as his bonds allowed him.
‘Thank you. It makes sense now. I’ve
been running for a long time.’ My voice hardened. ‘I won’t anymore.’
Minutes later, Ashely and I followed Gabriel into the study.
‘Well?’ Godard observed our grim faces anxiously.
‘Santana is gathering all the Crovir Hunters,’ Gabriel announced flatly. ‘They’ll be in Europe tonight.’
Chapter Sixteen
Roman Dvorsky was an older and thinner version of his son. Though disease had ravaged his immortal body and added lines to his face, he walked with a confident step born of a natural leader.
‘Gabriel.’ He crossed the foyer and hugged his son.
‘Father,’ Gabriel murmured back.
The Head of the Order of Schwatz Hunters looked around the foyer. ‘It’s good to see you looking so well,’ he told Godard. His gaze shifted. ‘And this must be your granddaughter.’
Sheila nodded an acknowledgment and returned the older man’s stare steadily.
The dark eyes so similar to Gabriel’s finally fell on me. I was subjected to a long and penetrating stare. ‘Adam Thorne.’
I frowned at the name. ‘I prefer Carpenter.’
Stony silence descended on the lobby. Roman Dvorsky watched me with an inscrutable expression. ‘Carpenter it is then. I guess I owe you a long-overdue apology.’
Gabriel’s father had not travelled alone; the Dvorskys’ estate was swarming with Schwatz Hunters. They arrived in a large convoy of transporter vans and SUVs earlier that day and were busy setting up a security perimeter around the grounds.
I had been receiving guarded looks for most of the morning.
‘Bet they make you feel twitchy, huh?’ said Ashely.
He leaned against the window frame next to me and gazed outside. We had retired to the study while Roman Dvorsky and the other members of the Schwatz First Council gathered in the kitchen for a meeting. The lawn in front of the mansion was crawling with immortals.
‘I guess they’re on our side now,’ I said.
Ashely shifted and stretched his wounded arm. ‘Well, they do say the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’
I had a feeling the majority of the Schwatz Hunters out there would not be subscribing to a similar viewpoint.
‘How’s your chest by the way?’ I glanced at the outline of the dressing beneath his shirt.
‘Much better than I thought it’d be,’ said Ashely. ‘The doc said I’m healing fast.’ He made a face. ‘Though she still hasn’t given up on getting me to stop smoking.’
I smiled.
The door opened behind us. Bruno appeared on the threshold.
‘The boss is asking for you.’ He hesitated. ‘Mr. Roman is who I mean.’
I looked at Ashely. He shrugged. We turned and followed the bodyguard to the back of the manor house.
Several Hunters stood to attention next to the windows and doors of the kitchen. A couple of them visibly stiffened when I entered the room.
The Godards and the Dvorskys were already seated at the table. A number of unfamiliar faces occupied the chairs around them.
‘I’ve updated the Council members about recent events,’ said Gabriel. He indicated the empty seat at the end of the table. ‘Come, join us.’
I crossed the floor and took the chair. Ashely leaned against the wall next to me. He folded his arms, nodded amiably at the Hunter beside him, and assumed a bored air.
An uneasy hush filled the room.
It was broken by a stout man with the expression of a bulldog.
‘Look here.’ The immortal turned to Roman, distaste twisting his lips. ‘Do you really expect us to work together with this—half-breed?’ He gestured vaguely in my direction.
Godard went rigid. Sheila placed a hand on his arm. She was also frowning.
‘I will not have you speak so of my grandson,’ said the former leader of the Schwatz Hunters.
‘I mean you no disrespect, Tomas,’ said the stranger coolly. ‘However, you have to admit that your grandson’s existence flies in the face of the conventions of our society.’
A sigh left Roman Dvorsky’s lips.
‘All right, everyone calm down.’ He turned and addressed the man with the bulldog face. ‘We’ve already gone over this, Costas,’ he said in a patient voice. ‘Carpenter came off our wanted list a long time ago. We have no grief with him.’
‘Still, to have someone like him share a table with the most senior members of the Schwatz Councils is deplorable, not to mention a clear breach of our rules,’ grumbled the man named Costas.
There was a grunt beside me. ‘Who made those rules?’ said Ashely.
Costas’s gaze shifted past me. He scowled at my partner. ‘And you are?’
‘A friend,’ said Ashely. ‘For now.’
‘The affairs of immortals do not concern you, human,’ the Schwatz immortal stated dismissively.
Ashely struck a match and lit a cigarette. He ignored Sheila’s glare and nonchalantly blew a couple of smoke rings toward the ceiling.
‘Correct me if I’m wrong,’ he drawled, ‘but it seems to me that the “half-breed” and the “human” pretty much saved your immortal asses in the last few days.’
Costas snorted. ‘I heard you nearly got yourself killed.’
‘Well, I gotta admit, when it comes to dying, you have the advantage over me,’ Ashely said steadily.
‘It’s okay,’ I said quietly. I turned and observed the faces around the table. ‘Let’s get something clear,’ I said, making no attempt to hide the coldness in my voice. ‘I have no love lost for you or most other immortals, be they Crovir or Schwatz. As far as I’m concerned, you can continue to have your petty disputes for the rest of eternity.’ I frowned. ‘Unfortunately, the current situation concerns us all. This is a matter of survival, pure and simple. You need me. And for the time being, as much as I hate to admit this, it appears that I need you.’
I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table.
‘Whatever Christie Santana is plotting, she believed that I was the only one who could stop her. That’s the reason the Crovir Hunters have been after me for the last two weeks.’ I glanced at my grandfather. ‘And I hear that for Amos Thorne to personally come out on a Hunt is practically unheard of.’
The man next to Roman stiffened. ‘Thorne is here?’
‘Yes,’ Gabriel’s father replied wearily. ‘He killed Carpenter a few days ago, outside the safe house in Vilanec.’
‘And it was his seventeenth death at that,’ Anatole said cheerfully. His eyebrows rose at Gabriel’s expression. ‘What?’ he asked with an innocent shrug.
Bruno sighed and shook his head.
‘We were trying to keep that fact a secret for as long as possible,’ Gabriel explained stiffly.
‘Oh.’ Anatole pulled a face. ‘Sorry boss, but half the men out there know about it already.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Won’t be long till the other half finds out either,’ he added under his breath.
Costas had gone red in the face.
‘Impossible!’ The Schwatz noble shot out of his seat, the chair clattering to the floor. ‘You’re lying! There’s no way he could have survived his seventeenth death!’ He turned to Roman. ‘This is a grotesque farce, Roman! I demand that you—’
‘Costas is right,’ the man on the other side of Tomas Godard interrupted. ‘No immortal has ever lived beyond seventeen deaths.’
‘Carpenter did,’ said Gabriel above the furor that followed. Dvorsky’s voice had an edge of steel to it. ‘I was there.’ He waited until the rumble of voices died down. ‘And you forget. No one in our history has the ability he has.’
The other Council members shared guarded glances.
‘How is that possible?’ said Costas finally.
One of the Hunters pulled his chair up.
He sat down slowly, a stormy expression still clouding his face.
‘No one knows the answer to that question,’ said Gabriel. He glanced at me and hesitated. ‘Bu
t I think we should hide this fact from the Crovirs for as long as possible. If they believe Adam is out of their way, they will get bolder. And they may let their guard slip.’
The man next to Roman leaned forward. ‘What do you have in mind?’ he said, eyes shining.
The Council members stared at Gabriel expectantly.
He looked at his father. The leader of the Schwatz Hunters nodded.
‘First and foremost, we must protect Sheila Godard,’ said Gabriel. ‘She appears to be a crucial component to Santana’s plan. We cannot let her fall into the hands of the Crovirs at any cost.’
Sheila stiffened at his words. ‘Wait a minute. That’s going a bit far!’ she protested.
‘My dear, as much as I dislike admitting it, Gabriel’s right,’ said Godard. ‘I would hate to think what that woman would do to you if she had you in her grasp.’
‘So what, I’m just supposed to hide and let others get killed because of me?’ Sheila retorted. ‘That makes me feel so…useless!’
‘You’re not,’ I said quietly. ‘If we find out what Santana is up to, you may be the only one who can put a stop to it.’
With Sheila’s knowledge of Strauss’s research, I was confident she would get to the bottom of what the Crovirs were plotting and find a solution to the problem. As I was rapidly discovering, she was too stubborn to resist a challenge.
‘All right,’ Sheila muttered. ‘But no pointless heroics, okay?’
I smiled in response.
‘That’s not the entire plan, is it?’ said Costas incredulously. ‘Surely we do not need the whole Order of the Schwatz Hunters just to keep one woman safe?’
‘No,’ said Gabriel. ‘There’s more.’
‘Santana arrived in Prague last night,’ said Roman. ‘She wasn’t alone. Almost the entire Order of the Crovir Hunters came with her.’
Shocked murmurs broke around the table at this news.
‘The Crovir First Council will be meeting this evening at Kazimir Benisek’s mansion,’ Roman continued. ‘Gabriel and I are intending to drop in for a visit.’
Stunned silence followed this statement.
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