All You Desire

by Kirsten Miller

  “No, you will not,” Phoebe said. “We have Beau Decker, and we can keep him as long as we like. Or we can put him to death. You saw what Chandra and Cleo did to his face. I believe they quite enjoyed themselves.”

  “You so much as touch Beau again, and I’ll have Adam kill your son.”

  Phoebe didn’t flinch. “That’s a sacrifice I’m prepared to make,” she said.

  The other Horae shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Virginia Morrow stared at her sister with undisguised shock.

  “Phoebe?” Vera whispered, only to be ignored.

  “You’re disgusting,” Haven sneered.

  “I’m a realist. One can’t battle chaos with daisies and sunshine. So tell me. What has Miss Frizzell seen that has left her so ill?”

  “She’s seen your plan come to fruition. But we’re here to stop you.”

  “Our plan?” Phoebe rose and walked to the spot by the fire where Leah was lying. “Tell me about your visions,” she said.

  “There’s a horrible sickness. Something bad is in the air. Everyone dies. The whole city is dead,” Leah told her.

  “When?” Phoebe asked.

  “Five years from now.”

  Phoebe spun around to face Haven. “And you think we will be responsible? This is what we’ve been working to prevent, you fool. The magos has spread sickness before. It’s one of the tricks he employs when he wants to seize power. Seven hundred years ago, he brought the Black Death to Europe from the steppes of Asia. We tried to stop him. But we needed Beatrice’s help, and you betrayed us. You fell for the magos’s lies and succumbed to temptation. Because of you, most of Florence died. Because of you, half of Europe perished.”

  Haven remembered the corpses littering the streets of Beatrice’s city. Could a single being have been responsible for such destruction? “Even if Adam did bring the plague to Europe, he isn’t responsible for the disease that will hit New York,” Haven argued. “Leah sees a girl in her visions.”

  “The magos is behind it somehow. I can assure you of that.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust you?” Haven spat.

  “You’re the one who shouldn’t be trusted,” Phoebe stated flatly. “You are the reason we were forced to kidnap your friend. We needed your cooperation to rid the world of the magos. You’re the only creature for whom he’ll let down his guard. But I knew that in the time it took you to win his confidence, the magos would be able to win your heart. We took Beau so you would have no choice but to pay us one final visit.”

  “Well, it’s over,” Haven said. “I’m not going to help you. Maybe you don’t give a damn about Calum, but you’re going to release Beau or I’ll tell Adam exactly where to find you. And I’ll tell him to do whatever he pleases.”

  “You’ll tell him? You pathetic little creature. Do you honestly think the magos obeys your commands?”

  “Adam will do anything to please me. He believes I was sent to earth to humble him. He told me himself—I’m his only weakness. You know it’s true or you wouldn’t be so desperate for my help.”

  “You are his weakness, Haven. But the magos knows you have a weakness as well. The Greeks called it hubris. He flatters you, strokes your ego, tells you how very special you are. He lets you imagine that you’re in control. That he’d turn himself into a saint just to be by your side. And all the while, the magos goes about his business as usual. But you’re too blinded by your own pride to see it.”

  Was it true? Haven wondered. Had Adam been up to his old tricks while she wasn’t watching? Haven had to admit it was possible. But she wasn’t about to admit it to Phoebe.

  “I don’t have to listen to this,” she announced. “Let Beau go or be prepared to suffer the consequences.”

  “We will release your friend as soon as your work is done. Now the time has come for you to see the truth about the creature you call Adam. There’s one more vision you must have. Beatrice was also convinced that she alone could command the magos. You need to know what happened to her.” Phoebe took a mask from the pocket of her dress and strapped it over her nose and mouth. The other Horae followed suit.

  “No,” Haven said. “There won’t be any more visions. Let’s go,” she said to Leah and Frances. But before she could reach the door, she was overcome by the odor of death.

  ONE OF THE CARTS laden with bodies rumbled through the square in front of Beatrice’s house. Throughout Florence, the sweet stench of rotting flesh was growing unbearable. There were too many corpses littering the streets to be collected each morning. Only the very rich could afford a proper burial. No one received last rites anymore.

  The Vettori palazzo buzzed with activity. Most of the furniture had been carted away to the family’s country estate. Trunks filled with clothing and other prized possessions were stacked in the courtyard, waiting to be collected. Grim-faced servants packed the rest, knowing only they themselves would be left behind.

  Like the rest of the city’s wealthy citizens, Beatrice’s parents were fleeing. She had begged them to stay. If Piero and Naddo were to return to Florence, they would need a safe haven. Her father demanded she abandon these fantasies and prepare to leave for the countryside. But Beatrice refused to comply. She still held out hope that she’d see Piero again, and that hope was all that kept her alive.

  The answer had arrived on a slip of paper shoved under her bedroom door. “Go see Adam,” it said. Beatrice never paused to wonder which soul had taken pity on her. She fled her family’s palazzo immediately, racing across the city to Adam’s house. If they married at once, she could stay in Florence. She knew Adam would never refuse her.

  When she arrived, she saw two men in a corpse-filled cart pull up outside her fiancé’s house. Too horror-stricken to speak or move, she watched one of the men pound on the door. A servant answered, and Beatrice expected to see Adam’s body hauled out into the street. But the men had come to make a delivery instead.

  They slid two bodies off the pile in the back of their cart and laid them out on the stones. Adam’s servant handed the men a few coins, and the cart rumbled off, arms and legs flopping over its sides. Beatrice rushed forward. Their clothes were wet and their bodies bloated, but she recognized the dead men in an instant. Piero’s skin was free of the ugly black sores that marked all who had died of the plague, but a bloodless wound stretched across his neck. Before Adam’s servant could stop her, Beatrice fell to her knees and placed her cheek to her dead brother’s chest. She couldn’t hear the inhuman scream that issued from her very own throat.

  HAVEN WOKE ON the floor. Adam’s men had killed Piero. And he had let Haven believe that she was responsible. Neither deed could ever be forgiven. Haven gagged and would have vomited had there been anything at all in her stomach. The room was thick with smoke, and through the haze, she could barely discern thirteen figures huddled together on one side of the room. Someone in the center of the circle was speaking in rapid-fire words that made no sense to Haven.

  “What’s in this smoke?” Haven heard Frances demand. “We have to get them both to the hospital.”

  “Quiet!” Phoebe ordered. “I must hear the prophecy.”

  “Leah’s sick. She speaking gibberish!” Frances exclaimed.

  “It isn’t gibberish. It’s the language of ancient Crete,” one of the Horae informed her. “It hasn’t been spoken in more than two thousand years.”

  “She has seen a young woman with an old name,” Phoebe began to translate. “She created the sickness in a laboratory, and she was not working alone. She is part of a much larger group. Its members were told they would lead the world, but they were abandoned by their patron. Now they want the power they were promised, and they’re convinced that they must take it by force. They believe the end they envision will justify their means. Their destiny is America’s destiny.”

  The room went silent. Haven pulled herself up and staggered toward the circle of women. Her own vision had taken a terrible toll, but Leah’s had been far more devastating. The girl’s e
yes were closed and her lips motionless. Frances put a hand on Leah’s chest to check for movement.

  “Oh my God, she’s stopped breathing!” Frances screamed.

  “Quickly. Get my bag,” Phoebe ordered one of the Horae. “She needs to finish the prophecy.”

  The woman returned in an instant with a black leather doctor’s bag. Phoebe pulled out a small vial of colorless liquid and filled a syringe with it.

  “What are you giving her?” Haven demanded.

  “Snake venom.”

  “You’ll kill her!”

  “I will revive her,” Phoebe sneered. “She is not one of you.”

  The venom entered Leah’s veins. She opened her mouth and drew in a long, desperate breath.

  “Flora.” The name seemed to come from deep within her. “The girl’s name is Flora.”

  “No!” Haven gasped.

  “You know the person who designed this disease?” Phoebe asked. “Where can we find her? She must die before the prophesy can be fulfilled.”

  “You can’t kill Flora!” Haven said. “She’s only a little girl. She hasn’t done anything to anyone.”

  “She’s a child?” Phoebe asked.

  “She’s one of the kids Adam recruited,” Haven said. “She’s a member of the Ouroboros Society. She goes to school at Halcyon Hall.”

  “They all did.” Leah was speaking again, this time in English. “Everyone involved in releasing the disease once went to Halcyon Hall. Milo Elliot is their leader.”

  Leah’s eyes fluttered shut.

  “At last we know the magos’s plan,” Phoebe said, turning on Haven. “You thought his school was above reproach? This is what he’s been working to achieve. If the magos is not stopped, we will have no choice but to kill all of the children.”

  Haven gawked at Phoebe, unable to speak. The old woman grabbed her by the arm and pulled her up the stairs and into the sunroom where they had first met.

  “Now do you understand why you must do as we ask?”

  “Yes,” Haven said weakly.

  “And your own vision. Did you see what I needed you to see?”

  The horrible memory would never leave her for as long as she lived. The sight of the brother she’d loved so much, murdered by the man she had trusted. The man she’d thought she could control. She would make Adam suffer for his crimes.

  “Yes,” Haven said. “I know why Beatrice decided to betray Adam. I will help you lock him away.”

  “This is your destiny, Haven. I helped you face it, but you could not have avoided it.” Phoebe sat down in one of the chairs, her energy spent. “Over the centuries, each of my sisters has tried to cheat destiny. Virginia was the latest to do so. She infiltrated the Society as a young woman, and Adam sensed her weakness immediately. She wanted a family of her own. He made her famous and introduced her to Jerome Morrow. Soon after they were married, Iain was born, and Virginia almost forgot her true mission. I couldn’t allow that to happen, so I had Jerome give me a son as well.”

  “You seduced your sister’s husband?”

  Phoebe shrugged. “I did what I had to do. But even that wasn’t enough to bring Virginia to her senses. It wasn’t until Iain began to speak of his previous lives—and it became clear who he was—that Virginia lost her mind completely. She’d tried so hard to escape from us, only to have her own son be one of the souls we needed to find. It took a twenty-year sentence in that hovel in Tuscany for my sister to realize that she couldn’t escape her fate. You’ve had to learn the same lesson far more quickly.”

  “I have no intention of running from my destiny.”

  “I can see that now,” Phoebe said. “Until today, you’ve been searching for a way to betray us. The snake goddess has shown you what will happen if you do.”

  “Tell me what you want, Phoebe.”

  “Cleo and Chandra have visited the mausoleum in Green-Wood Cemetery. They say it will suit our purposes. There’s an anteroom with a fountain. Beyond it lies a larger room with seven doors. Six of the chambers contain a sarcophagus. The seventh is empty. It’s deep underground, and all the doors have locks. We’ve had a key made for the seventh door that will allow you to secure it. This is the room where the magos will spend eternity. I must say, it’s much nicer than some of the other options we’ve considered. He’ll be more comfortable than he deserves.”

  “You’re sure the mausoleum will hold him?”

  “Yes,” Phoebe said. “Not even the magos could escape from it.”

  “Then I will call Adam and ask him to meet me there tomorrow morning at ten,” Haven said. “Tonight, I’m going to destroy the Ouroboros Society.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  “And here comes Alex Harbridge, wearing what fashionistas are already calling the dress of the evening!”

  “Good evening, Jack.” Alex sauntered up to the handsome reporter standing at the side of the red carpet with a microphone in his hand. She looked stunning in her glittering green gown, her long red hair worn loose and wild. She might have been a young goddess who had risen from the sea.

  “Alex, you don’t enjoy a reputation as a fashion maven—”

  “And I’ll forgive you for saying so, Jack, since I know you don’t have much experience flattering young ladies,” Alex’s laughter had a razor-sharp edge, and it didn’t take a trained eye to catch the daggers her eyes shot in his direction.

  “What I meant to say is that you seem more focused on your craft than on the superficial sides of the business. And yet here you are tonight in one of the most remarkable gowns ever seen on the Oscars’ red carpet.”

  “Thank you. It was made by a young designer I discovered myself. Her name is Haven Moore.”

  Jack cocked his head. “Where have I heard that name?”

  “She designed Lucy Frederick’s dress as well.”

  “Ah, that must be it,” Jack said. “Well, I imagine her name will be on everyone’s lips tomorrow morning. Now that you’re with us, Alex, I know the folks back at home would love to hear your thoughts on some of the things that have happened in the past few days.”

  Alex frowned. “I’m just here to—”

  “Your friend, television actor Calum Daniels, was arrested this morning on kidnapping charges. What can you tell us about this strange turn of events?”

  “It’s all a terrible mistake. I expect the charges to be dropped any minute now.”

  “And what do you have to say about the recent reappearance of Iain Morrow?” Jack added quickly before Alex had time to make her escape. “You two were an item back in the day. How does it feel to hear he’s returned from the dead?”

  “I wish Iain nothing but the best.”

  “So you don’t believe he was responsible for the murder of the musician Jeremy Johns two years ago?”

  “This is America, Jack. Last I heard, we’re all innocent until proven guilty,” Alex said with an angry smile.

  “Turn the television off,” Haven demanded, and Alex’s pretty face faded to black.

  “Sorry,” Frances said. “I thought it might take your mind off tomorrow. I didn’t know—”

  “It’s okay,” Haven assured her. She hadn’t meant to snap, but the sight of Alex Harbridge had ripped open a wound she was trying to ignore just long enough to do what needed to be done. “I’m going to lie down now.”

  “Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” Frances asked. “Iain should be back soon.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to sleep,” Haven said. She doubted she’d ever be able to sleep again.

  Instead Haven lay on the bed in Constance Whitman’s room, staring at the ceiling and thinking of Beau. Even as a boy, he couldn’t stand to see Haven unhappy. Whenever he discovered her looking miserable, he’d stop at nothing to make Haven laugh. Once, when Haven’s grandmother was making life unbearable, Beau had stayed up all night sewing a giant replica of one of the old lady’s dresses. He’d appeared beneath Haven’s window the very next morning to deliver a lecture on the importan
ce of shunning homosexual football players. The performance had made Haven’s grandmother despise Beau with a passion, but it had sent Haven sprinting to the bathroom before she peed her pants laughing.

  This time Beau could do nothing to lift Haven’s spirits. He was still in the Horae’s hands, and it was all Haven’s fault.

  The bedroom door opened, and Iain entered.

  “Did you find Padma?” Haven asked.

  “She was back at that rat hole on the Lower East Side. She thinks I’m the only one who knows she’s there, and I really hope she’s right.”

  “Did she agree to release the files?”

  “She did.”

  “How much did she want?”

  “All of it.”

  “All of it?” Haven’s heart sank a little.

  “Every last cent of the Morrow family fortune—the second we’re able to give it.”

  Haven nodded solemnly. “It’s worth it.”

  “I know,” Iain said.

  “So what’s going to happen now?”

  “Padma will speak to the newspapers tonight. She’ll be on a plane tomorrow. The story will break the next day. We’ll wire the money to a Swiss account once we have it.”

  “And then?”

  Iain sat down beside her. “And then no one will go near the Ouroboros Society again. With no leader left and a scandal hanging over the club, the doors should be sealed for good. There won’t be any money to fund Adam’s school. Flora will grow up to be an ordinary doctor. Leah’s prophecy won’t be fulfilled.”

  “Thank God,” Haven said.

  “There’s more. Padma says she’ll admit to the papers that she ordered Jeremy Johns’s murder. And she’ll give the police the name of the gray man who did it. We’ll finally be free to go wherever we want.”

  “We?” Haven asked miserably, no longer able to hold back all the horrible thoughts that had been multiplying in her head. “Are you sure you want me to go with you? I mean, think about it, Iain! I’m cursed! Adam and the Horae will follow me wherever I go. I’ll ruin all your lives. As long as you’re with me, you’ll never be free of them.”