“Why are you out here?” Pierce asked, rubbing his bare arms before folding them.
He wished he’d brought his coat and remembered to wear his boots. The cold, dew-drenched grass irritated his naked feet.
“Because it’s where I can be for a little while,” Joaquin explained. “This place holds great spiritual power.”
“Ah, praying some more, eh?”
“No.”
Pierce cocked his head sideways and arched an eyebrow. “Erm. All right.”
“Isn’t it beautiful here?” Joaquin pointed out in an off-handed manner.
Pierce glanced around their misty surroundings. He had to admit, it held a certain natural Gothic magnetism to it.
“Aye. S’pose. So, how much did you drink?”
Joaquin snorted. “Plenty. It was a grand night. I got to lay with a lovely elf woman.”
“Oi, that attractive golden-haired lass with the fiery eyes? Taisia said she’d seen her before.” He smirked. “How was it?”
“The best I ever had,” Joaquin admitted with a playful grin. “Better than the witch who took me and became the mother of my child.”
Pierce blinked several times. “Sorry? Mother of your what?”
“My child. She’s nearly thirteen now, it turns out.”
Utterly shocked by this news, Pierce gawked before any more words could escape. “You have a daughter? Ho-how long have you known this?”
“Grandmother Fey told me last night. Vela is her name.” His proud expression fell into despair. “Pity I won’t meet my own daughter. She most likely doesn’t know who I am.”
“Bollocks,” Pierce retorted. “The hell with this witch. We have Grandma on our side. We’ll find a way to—”
“No, Pierce,” he interjected, raising his hand. “It’s too late for that.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’m sorry this has happened on the day after your wedding, little brother. My body can no longer hold out.”
Pierce flushed with panic.
“Are you . . . are you saying you’re still dying? No, that can’t be. We got the demon blood out of you.”
“Aye, but the damage to my stomach was irreparable, I’m afraid. Extracting the blood only prolonged my life a bit.”
Pierce recalled the blood he had spotted in Joaquin’s urine.
“Take heart, I’ve been suffering very little. Faolan helped with that by cutting off the signals to my brain that register pain. Quite a talent, I must say.”
“Wait. You knew this entire time and you didn’t think to mention it?”
“I didn’t want our final days together to be met with sorrow. I wanted them filled with what we have shared. We’ve experienced a fairly wonderful return trip, yeah?”
Pierce bowed his head and uttered softly, “Aye.”
“And I wanted to see you married off before I left.”
“Stop talking like this,” Pierce snapped, raising his sights to him. “All right? Just shut it. It’s not too late. You’re not gone yet. We—”
“Shush, Pierce.”
From within the fog, figures appeared. They stood around them, holding unlit candles. Soon, each wick burst into bright flames. Pierce wondered if they were the same spirits he had seen in his dream, which were warning him about Taisia.
“No,” Pierce gasped, feeling his stomach bottom out. “You can’t be.”
“I can and I am, baby brother. As I told you before, this place holds power. Once I leave this circle, I shall move on to the afterlife.”
Tears fell instantly down Pierce’s face.
“I suppose it’s partially the reason why Grandmother Fey wanted to meet here,” Joaquin added. “And I’m glad for it, because it gives me this chance to speak with you.”
“Grandmother Fey knew?’
“They all did. I told them in my letters.”
Pierce shook his head slowly, refusing to believe it. “Joaquin, no. You can’t leave.”
“I must.”
“But we were going to begin a new life. All of us—together.”
“And we are. Only, I shall be taking a different route.”
Pierce searched for another argument to throw at him, something that would convince him to stay. After so many years apart, the Landcross brothers had finally been reunited. Better yet, they had made amends. They were truly brothers once more.
“It’s not fair,” Pierce said, unable to think of anything better. “It’s not bloody fair.”
Joaquin took hold of his little brother’s shoulder and held it firmly. “That’s the way it is sometimes.”
“After everything we did. After all the shite we went through. In the end, I couldn’t save you.”
“You did,” Joaquin argued. “You have to believe that.”
Pierce grasped his arm. He felt as solid as any other living person.
“You were always meant for great things, Pierce. I’m proud of you.”
Pierce sensed their time was drawing to a close.
“Don’t go,” he begged.
“Consider this not farewell, little brother, but rather—see you around.”
Pierce had no words, and before he even knew it, he was in his brother’s strong embrace. Joaquin pried himself off and backed away.
“See you around.”
He walked away, slowly allowing the mist to consume him.
“See you around,” Pierce whispered hoarsely.
His brother slipped from his sights forever. The candles flickered out flame by flame, leaving everything grey once again.
* * *
“Pierce,” came a voice in the dark. “Pierce, wake up.”
He opened his eyes. When his vision cleared, he saw Taisia’s grim face staring down at him.
“You need to come outside.”
His gut twisted as he grabbed his shirt and followed her out of the tent. They headed for Stonehenge, where the family—including Archie, his wife and his sister—stood within the circle. As Pierce approached, Archie rested a hand on his own chest.
“I’m so sorry.”
Pierce said nothing as he walked by.
Joaquin was lying on his back upon a fallen stone slab. His arms rested at his sides as though he had simply lain down and died. Perhaps he had done just that. Nona was clutching her dead son’s hand in both of hers and pressing it against her cheek. Pierce came up alongside the stone and switched his attention to his father, who was kneeling beside his grieving wife. Neither of his parents spoke, not even Grandmother Fey, standing beside Durothil, who was holding her close against him. Indigo stood the farthest out, but his painful expression was clear to see. Taisia joined Eilidh and Clover, their eyes glossy with sorrow.
Pierce looked upon his brother. He came closer and placed a hand upon Joaquin’s forehead. His cold skin forced him to believe he was truly dead. Pierce kneeled, folded his own arms over Joaquin’s chest, and then rested his head on them.
He cried heavily.
* * *
That day, they prepared for a wake. The elves returned, bearing more food and wine. In the evening, they built a bonfire and the family gathered. Pierce stood with Taisia by the fire, holding each other and watching the flames dance. A hand touched his shoulder. He was in such a deep state of mourning, he didn’t even notice anyone approaching.
“Pierce,” Grandmother Fey said soothingly. “May I have a word?”
“Erm, sure, Grandma.”
He looked to Taisia, who smiled lovingly at him before kissing him tenderly on the cheek. She left him alone with his grandmother. He knew he’d never love another woman the way he loved her.
“She is special,” Grandmother Fey said. “Is she not?”
“Aye.” He turned to her. “I thought she died in Edinburgh. Gunned down. It was a trick. I never felt so much pain—not even now, after Joaquin. Is that wrong of me?”
“Not at all. Your grief for your brother is strong, there is no doubt about that. However, it measures differently. Take your
parents, for instance.”
He looked over at his folks, sitting together, wrapped in a blanket and holding each another. Their grieving expressions were the most heartbreaking images he’d ever seen.
“They lost their child. It is a pain that weighs on the soul unlike any other loss.”
“Was there anything we could have done to save him?”
She bowed her head and shook it.
“If there was, I would have done so. His body was too broken. A humble wise woman like myself could not have repaired him, even though he no longer abided by his fate string.”
“Fate string, eh? Talkin’ about the Fates? Charming ladies.”
She looked very shocked to hear this.
“You’ve seen the Fates? How?”
“I died once.”
“Quoi?”
“Shot,” he answered, pointing to the areas where Tarquin’s bullets had ripped through him. “Here, here, and here. It happened before I found Mum and Dad.”
“This can’t be. How is it that you’re alive?”
“The Fates. They repaired my thread and I came back.”
“Do you remember what happened after you were shot?”
Of course, he remembered. Vividly, in fact.
Shortly after Tarquin learned Indigo’s journal was a forgery Pierce had made, the bastard opened fire on him.
Afterwards, Pierce had the terrifying experience of watching a ten-year-old girl come to his defense, only to be gunned down by the same man—her own father.
Not their time, the Fates had proclaimed before they restored his and Clover’s lives.
“This means your thread is invalid.”
Pierce could’ve sworn he had heard this before. “What does that mean?”
“You may have been spared, but your thread has been damaged. Thus, you are exempt from the timeline the Fates have granted you.”
He might as well have been asking an ancient Mayan, for he understood little of what she was telling him. “I’m not following.”
“Pierce, unlike most, your death can come at any time. You’re completely vulnerable. I can’t believe Freya has been able to do this.”
“Freya? She’s this witch everyone keeps talking about, yes?”
“Oui,” she answered sorrowfully. “There is a plan that has been set in motion that involves our family—past, present, and future. Do you remember what I told you in the forest about dangerous curses that can be brought about using people with a mixture of strong bloodlines?”
“Aye. What does it have to do with anything?”
“Freya wants you dead for some reason.”
“Wants me dead?”
A flash of memory came to him. Grandmother Fey told his parents at Indigo’s cottage that she had cast out a girl name Freya who was dangerous. She then glanced squarely at him, but Pierce had given it little thought until now.
“Oui. And I’m sure you’re not the last of our family she will go after.”
“What do you mean?” He mulled it over. “Are you talking about children? My children?”
“Perhaps Joaquin acted too soon in trying to kill you.” She touched the scar on his throat. “An attempt to damage your thread wasn’t supposed to be made until after the birth of your firstborn. I am not certain about that, though.”
“I don’t have any youngsters. Not yet, anyway.”
“Then it only leaves the offspring you will have.”
“What exactly does my and Taisia’s little ones have to do with this?” he asked, straining to keep his voice low.
“I’m not completely sure. It depends on what she plans to do. Your child may be a great part of this.”
Pierce looked toward Taisia, and a certain gloom settled over him. He wanted children—with her. But it seemed if he did, something horrible might happen to them.
“I’ll do what I can to protect you, Pierce,” Grandmother Fey promised. “And your children, as well. Do not despair.”
“I know about Joaquin’s daughter, Vela. What’s to happen to her?”
Her face darkened. “She shall remain with her mother. It would be unwise for anyone to try and take her from Freya.”
Pierce considered that. If it was only him, he’d most likely give it a go and at least attempt to talk to his niece. But he had a wife now, and he aimed to protect her from danger.
Pierce Landcross’s adventurous days were behind him.
“Having said that,” Grandmother Fey continued, “it would be wise for us to get as far away from England as possible. You have a place in mind, non?”
For the first time in hours, Pierce chuckled. “I do, but I’m afraid that ship has literally sailed.”
“Has it?”
Pierce barely noticed her question. He was looking toward Stonehenge where Joaquin’s body still lay on the stone slab, surrounded by the same soft orbs of light the elves had given them.
“I saw him,” Pierce whispered. “Joaquin came to me. Shortly after he died, I reckon. He told me goodbye.”
Grandmother Fey kissed him on the forehead. “You are fortunate, Grandson. Most of us do not get that chance.”
* * *
Early the next morning, the family held Joaquin Landcross’s funeral. Durothil and Archie dug a proper grave by a single tree standing alone in the wide-open field. The elves prepared the body and wrapped it with a lace shroud. After Joaquin was placed in the ground and buried, some words were said. The elves took their leave soon afterward, and the group traveled south. Eventually, Archie, Clover, and Eilidh bid them goodbye.
That evening, the family reached Indigo’s cottage. While dinner was being prepared, Pierce went outside to the brook to fetch the water needed for the stew broth. As he collected the water in a bucket, an overwhelming sense of danger suddenly crept over him. He rose to his full height and looked behind him just before his feet were lifted right off the ground by an invisible force. He was carried clear across the stream and slammed against a tree trunk so hard, he thought perhaps his spine was broken.
“Good morrow, Landcross,” a dreadfully familiar voice said.
“Robin,” Pierce gasped in terror.
Shite! Robin of Locksley had come to collect on his debt.
The evening was young, allowing just enough light for Pierce to see Robin through its violet veil. Robin was beaming with delight, showing off long fangs in his wide smile. He placed his deathly cold hand upon Pierce’s chest where the stater coin once hung.
“Lose something?”
Robin pressed down hard, making it difficult to breathe. His great strength kept Pierce hopelessly pinned to the tree. He was only grateful Robin hadn’t clutched his healing knife wound—although, that might not matter much longer.
Despite being in plenty of life threatening situations, Pierce really wasn’t one to beg for mercy. But despite the loss of his brother, Pierce had more to live for than ever before. He had his family and a wife who actually loved him as much as he loved her. He didn’t want to lose any of that.
“Robin, please. Don’t kill me, mate. I know I did you wrong, but—”
“Kill you?” the vampire said. “Whatever gave you that impression?”
That took Pierce completely aback. “You’re joking, right?”
“If I wanted you dead, there are plenty of other ways I could have done it.”
“I figured you wanted my blood.”
“I do, but not because I wish to take your life, silly boy. I want you to be my companion.”
Pierce honestly thought he couldn’t be more gobsmacked.
“Want me as your companion? You mean—?”
“Turn you into a vampire,” Robin clarified. “Think of all we could do together. Travel the globe, feeding on the wicked. We are a lot alike, you and I.”
The offer appealed to Pierce, actually. To become an immortal with the strength to protect himself from anyone aiming to do him harm? Not to mention, he’d have the chance to roam the world with the infamous Robin Hood! The e
ndless adventures they could share together made his head spin.
“I wanted you to join me for a long time,” Robin admitted.
“Why didn’t you say so instead of leading me to believe you wanted me dead all this time?”
“Because, in the beginning, I did want you dead. You did burn my face, remember?”
Pierce cringed. He wished Robin would take his hands off him and allow him his own space. But it seemed he was reluctant to do so, as if afraid Pierce might vanish if he let go.
“Besides, I’ve rather enjoyed watching you be so fearful.”
Pierce huffed petulantly.
“Initially, I thought you were another vagrant,” Robin continued. “A vagrant the world would benefit from not having. Then I learned many things about you throughout the years, such as returning the babe to her parents when you could have abandoned her to die.”
“Oh? Erm. S’pose that’s a good thing, eh?”
Robin nodded. “It’ll hurt for only a few moments.”
He stretched his mouth, exposing those horrifying fangs of his, and leaned in.
“I can’t, Robin,” he blurted out. “Things are different for me now. Please, let me go.”
Robin drew back with a cross look on his pale face. “I’m not asking you, Pierce Landcross. You will become a vampire.”
In a blink, he sank his teeth in.
“No! Don’t!” Pierce shrieked.
The puncturing pain paralyzed him in place. He wondered if this was what a rodent felt when a venomous snake bit into it. The pressure to his neck turned into a strain on his skin as the blood was sucked out of him. His veins felt as if they were being uprooted through the holes the vampire’s fangs had created.
“Pierce?” called Taisia. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Tai,” he whispered faintly, suddenly feeling very weak.
The pressure was relieved when Robin drew back. He looked over to her while she was searching the yard. Pierce watched her, as well. A tear rolled down his cheek when he realized this would be the last time he would ever see her.
“Who is she?” Robin asked.
The Underground Page 29
