Fall From Grace, page 14
part #9 of the Preternatural Chronicles Series
The key to saving Magni.
—AS & BT
“Who’s AS and BT?” I asked, pointing at the bookmark.
“Doesn’tmatter,” Locke got out as a single word, completely dismissing my question. His eye never left Russell, awaiting confirmation on the location of the item on the page.
“Is it there?” Locke asked, pushing the book ever closer to the troll’s face.
Glancing at the page, I saw a true-to-life drawing of a shiny chain. It looked to me like a gaudy accessory that would adorn an extravagantly dressed member of royalty to a fancy-schmancy ball or something.
Russell’s tense face looked at the page again, and then suddenly relaxed as excitement replaced his features.
“Yes! It’s there!” Russell exclaimed. “But it’s not in the armory.”
“Where is it?” Locke demanded, slamming the book shut and letting it disappear into black smoke again.
“King Taylor’s safe.”
“How do you know for sure?” Locke continued his line of questioning.
“Because…” Russell became hesitant again, like he was going to get in trouble if he told the truth.
“We need to know!” Locke doubled down, his voice harsh.
I could see Russell clam up.
“Hey, buddy,” I said in as friendly a tone as I could. “You aren’t going to get into trouble. Heck, we won’t even tell Taylor you know how to get into his safe. We just want to save Magni. And Locke, here, thinks that fancy chain can do it. So can you help us out? Please?”
Russell absorbed my words but didn’t relax his posture.
“Not just Magni, but all of Faerie,” Depweg added. I shot my attention toward Depweg, and we locked gazes for a split second. In that infinitesimal moment in time, Depweg wordlessly suggested Russell didn’t care about Magni.
I just went with it, turning my focus back to Russell, who was visibly relaxing at Depweg’s words.
“Ghle would show me some of the things her uncle kept in there. And we would pretend to be king and queen…until Magni came along.”
I made an ah expression as I understood what Depweg had explained to me with a simple look.
I thought about the bookmark again, and groaned to Locke, “Hey, why did your helpy-helpersons straight up tell you how to save Magni? Why come no cryptic bullshit like I usually get? Hmm? Why come?”
Hecate’s words came to mind, and I continued to bitch.
“I mean, I was told to use my head or something stupid to save the day. Like, what, am I supposed to headbutt him? Come on!”
“Can we discuss this later?” Depweg interjected as he folded his large arms over the acreage of his muscular chest.
“Fine,” I hissed, throwing my hands up in defeat. The storm outside started to build, creating a muffled white noise of rain on the roof.
“We have a plan,” Locke told the group, and I could almost hear epic orchestral music in the background with thumping timpani and powerful brass and stringed instruments belting out whole notes. It was a theme song for heroes as they faced certain death to save the day.
“Russell, can you sneak me through the tunnels to Taylor’s safe?”
“How are you going to fit—” I began to ask Locke before looking him up and down. He was tall at six foot four, but he was also lanky and lean, like a ruler. “Never mind.”
“Yes,” Russell croaked nervously. It was one thing to be asked by the adults to do some grown-up stuff, but actually doing it was another thing altogether.
“John, Depweg, draw Magni’s attention away from the castle if you can. I can only assume he will have sentries in place, and I want to give Russell and I as much time as possible to get to a safe spot and hide.”
“Got it,” Depweg and I said in unison.
“What about me?” Meli asked, looking between Locke and Depweg for an answer. I scowled at my exclusion from her request for direction.
“We need you to help save any citizens who might be hiding outside the castle walls. Russell and I will help anyone who might be trapped inside the castle.”
“Got it,” Meli replied.
“What about Ben?” Depweg asked.
“No. Let him rest. He’s still pretty banged up from Germany,” she answered like the protective sister she was.
There was a brief moment of silence as we each considered our mission.
Locke spoke up as he turned to face me.
“What if Ulric shows up?”
“Ulric?!” Depweg barked in surprise. “Why the hell would he show up?”
Depweg seemed to consider his own words, and then absentmindedly began running his hands up and down his arms as if a million tiny spiders were crawling on him.
“Are we expecting him?” Depweg asked flatly as he forced his hands to drop to his sides.
“We’ll cross that bridge when, and if, we come to it,” I decreed, showing no signs of hesitation to my friends. “All you need to know is Lily might have worked a deal out with him to save Faerie, and the world.”
“That doesn’t sound like him,” Depweg countered with narrowed eyes.
“Dude, just trust me right now. Okay?” I exhaled, bringing a hand up to rub at my eyes. I simply did not want to have a conversation about trusting Ulric when I didn’t even trust the bastard myself. Convincing someone to do something you weren’t confident in yourself was beyond frustrating.
I continued.
“For now, if—and I mean if—Ulric shows up…just don’t freaking kill him outright. We might actually need his help against Magni.”
Something bothered me, and I stumbled to get my words out as thoughts on how to structure the sentence formed.
“And-and-and can we, like, stop referring to Magni as-as-as our enemy? It’s the freaking Ether, man. We are going to defeat the Ether, not Magni.”
Everyone agreed to my request with silence.
“Oh, what about the time dilation thingy?”
“Right. Good point,” Locke said, glancing at the necklace that hung low around Depweg’s neck. “May I?”
Depweg shrugged as he took it off and handed it to him.
“Hmm,” Locke hummed as he eyed the artifact. “I believe I can make a duplicate of this, though it’ll only last twenty-four hours.”
“That should work,” I said.
As if performing a magic show, Locke pulled an identical crystal free from the first.
“Neat!”
Locke handed the copy to Meli and the original back to Depweg.
“What about you?” I asked.
“Don’t need it,” Locke said, tapping his cloak.
“Ooooohhhh,” I breathed out, understanding taking hold. “That’s why everyone has some type of robe on while in the In-Between?”
“Mostly. The Elders don’t need them, as their power is leaps and bounds beyond mine. But the rest of us, we have to keep these on. We could cast glamours if we wanted to, though.”
“Coolio,” I said, nodding my head in approval.
Putting on their necklaces, we were all now shielded from the effects of time dilation.
Locke spoke up, taking control over the situation and resembling a certain heroic comic book captain.
“We all have our missions. Good luck, and Godspeed.”
The group stood in a circle and locked hands. All eyes were upon me, making me instantly nervous at what I had to do and had never done to this degree.
I said a silent prayer, asking that no one was about to die because of me, focused on the field where Lily and I had lay in the lush grass just outside the castle, and shifted the five of us to Faerie.
From one of the guest rooms inside the mansion, Ben opened sleepy eyes at the sounds of the raging storm banging away outside.
Moaning in pain from the numerous wounds sustained while in Germany, Ben pushed himself to a seated position before grunting up on unsteady, sleepy feet.
Something broke in the attic above, sounding to Ben’s sharp ears like an old building being demolished by a bulldozer. It might have been the actual roof, considering Ben was on the second story.
Looking up with eyes that were now awake and scowling, a single drop of water slipped through a small, growing crack in the ceiling to splatter on the tip of Ben’s nose.
20
LILY
Passing through the portal, Lily was washed over by cool air filled with the scent of burning wood. She hadn’t realized how hot the streets of Tartarus had been until it had been removed from her presence. For a vampire to notice any change in temperature suggested the difference was vast, like a mortal walking through a parking lot in the peak of a blazing summer and into a grocery store with the AC on max.
“Set him there,” Ulric instructed with an almost bored indifference to Greg’s state while also casually gesturing toward a dark leather couch. It was taller on one side, with the armrests and back supports not matching in shape or height.
Lily carefully placed Greg on the higher end, which seemed to offer more area for him to lean on.
Seeing his normal, bearded face reminded Lily that Greg had dropped their glamours during his shift. She reached up to where the illusion-cutting glasses had been. They were gone.
Nervous eyes glanced all around before landing back on the injured Greg.
Stepping behind the couch, Lily willed bloodneedles on the tips of her index fingers and swiftly stuck them in either side of Greg’s neck. When he didn’t protest, she knew he was drifting dangerously toward death.
Siphoning his blood with one hand, Lily willed it through her body, which acted as a filter of sorts, before sending his life essence back into him with renewed energy gifted by her preternatural power. It was important she didn’t inject him with her own blood this close to death for fear of turning him into a vampire and making him a doomed pawn in the chess game of the apocalypse.
Wounds began to close as bones clicked back in place and organs knitted together again.
Greg’s heart, which had been steeply dropping in strength, began to thump with renewed vigor as his rehabilitated blood passed through it.
Ulric, correctly assuming that his visitor’s attention was currently occupied, smoothly walked to a harpsichord and sat down. His twin coat tails hovered just inches off the dark stone floor, gently waving like sheets on a clothesline.
A baroque tune filled the air as Ulric’s fingers danced across the keys. Each digit possessed more talent than all the greats of history combined, though it was unfair to compare a preternatural creature to mere mortals.
“Why does…does that piano…sound funny…?” Greg managed to ask with a lolling head.
Lily ignored his question as she completed the mending process.
Just before removing her bloodneedles from Greg’s arteries, Lily snuck in an extra dose of her own energy to help fuel the shaman, should a battle be in their near future.
Greg seemed to notice this, and though his head stopped bobbing up and down, he continued to let it hang low as his faculties sharpened.
Lily removed the needles and walked to stand between the two men, crossing her arms impatiently as she did.
Ulric continued to play; his left hand created powerful chords that were ripe with emotion as his right flew up and down the keys in an articulate dance of arpeggios that enhanced the base notes.
Theatrically lifting his hands off the keys as if his arms were mimicking a wave, Ulric let his fingers slowly drift back into place as he turned to regard Lily as if for the first time.
As he spoke, his right hand played a tune that paired perfectly with his cadence of speech while his left continued creating accompanying chords.
“Lily…dear, sweet Lily…how I have missed…you.” The poignant, pointed pauses of his parlance were made even more perturbing and pronounced by the prominently and precisely parallel prancing piece.
It sickened Lily how self-assured Ulric was; how completely opposite a personality in comparison to John. And yet, a prideful part of her took notice of the confidence that exuded from him, almost palpable to the touch.
Catching herself, Lily tilted her chin upward and reminded Ulric, “Only John may call me Lily.” It wasn’t entirely true in the literal sense, but the message was the same; the relationship between Ulric and Lilith was a professional one, and nothing more.
Ulric responded by pounding a series of long, dreary chords at the bottom register of the harpsichord. The smile that stretched across his face was that of a shark. Where a Cheshire grin was more devious and subtle, a shark’s smile projected copious malice and overt destruction.
A smile; such a simple thing. Yet in that moment, the act filled Lily with a dread she hadn’t felt from Ulric before.
The air felt cooler as the hair stood up on Lily’s arms, and she understood why she felt vulnerable under the glare of Ulric’s grin; Lily had always been the more powerful one in their long-forgotten relationship. But here, in Hell, Ulric was in his element as the Grand Master Warlock, in much the same way as Lily was while in Faerie.
All of a sudden, seeking Ulric had become a very bad idea.
“May I offer you a drink?” Ulric asked as he smoothly slid off the bench and gestured toward a table against the wall that held a decanter and several crystal glasses.
Lily recognized the liquid as blood, but hadn’t imbibed it in centuries, her life energy stemming from Faerie. But now, cut off from the plane she had created, the thirst was returning.
Ulric sensed the hesitation, and pounced.
Moving swiftly to the table, Ulric selected two fine crystal glasses and removed the stopper on the decanter.
Smooth, almost iridescent crimson flowed into the containers, making Lily’s mouth water.
Mentally shifting her focus to thoughts of Greg, Lily understood, all too late, that she had given the hurt shaman more of her energy than she had intended.
It had been several lifetimes since Lily had felt the thirst, and it was almost intoxicating with its surge of remembrance.
Forcing her will to suppress a feeling she hadn’t had to focus on since the creation of her beloved Faerie, Lily stilled her emotions and silenced her thoughts.
Whether or not Ulric noticed was irrelevant, given that Lily knew part of his dark gift had been the ability to read the minds of those around him. It had never been a problem for her before, but now, Lily wasn’t so sure she could block him here in Hell, where Ulric was second in command, so it was best to take precautions.
Ulric’s grin widened in such a way as to be barely perceptible, but to Lily, it might as well have been a big flashing sign that confirmed he could, indeed, sense her thoughts.
Bringing the glasses to Lily, he extended one out in a polite gesture.
When she hesitated, he sweetened the pot with a low, almost sultry voice.
“Have you ever tried angel?”
Lily’s eyes widened as she stared at the glass that was extended out to her.
“On-only Samae—”
“Shh-shh-shh!” Ulric interrupted, lifting his pinky finger to point at her as his smile faded.
An idea came to Lily, and confidence swelled in her chest. Reaching out with a graceful hand, Lily accepted the glass and held it up in a gesture of cheers.
Ulric’s smile returned as the two clinked glasses and brought the liquid to their lips.
Lily had to restrain a moan of pure pleasure as the angel blood glided down her throat. Then she remembered why she had come, and intensified her moaning rather than suppress it.
Her free hand ran down her chest to rest on her stomach as she made a show of enjoying the blood, all while shielding her true thoughts in a Faraday cage of sheer will.
Ulric’s smile shifted from a predator stalking its prey to an alpha male sensing a female in heat.
Downing the rest of her drink, Lily held out the glass and purred, “More.”
Taken aback, Ulric quickly swallowed the remainder of his own in one gulp before taking Lily’s glass and returning to the table.
As more liquid flowed from the decanter, Lily risked a glance toward Greg, who had barely lifted his head enough to see better. He wore a look of doubt, though it was diluted by his confidence that the Mistress of Faerie knew what she was doing.
With an expression of oh shit, Greg lowered his head back in place. Lily returned her attention to Ulric as he replaced the top on the crystal decanter.
Stepping toward Lily once more, Ulric appeared more comfortable at his guest’s change in demeanor.
Still behind the Faraday cage of unbreakable will, Lily reminded herself that Ulric was the type of man to change his situation to better fit his needs, and being second in command of Hell would never do with the throne so close to his grasp. Lily appearing to be a more cooperative guest clearly relaxed Ulric.
“Shall we?” Ulric suggested as he gestured with an open hand toward his desk. It was etched in symbols belonging to his country, and looked old enough for the wood to have become petrified.
As he moved, Ulric’s long suit jacket vanished with a puff of smoke, apparently not wanting to sit on the tails.
Behind the desk was a red velvet chair with a back that rose above the occupant’s head, while in front sat two similar chairs, though not as elegant or ostentatious.
To Lily’s surprise, Ulric chose to sit alongside her in one of the chairs reserved for guests instead of the throne that all but screamed superiority to those who sat across from it.
“It has been too long,” Ulric admitted with a sigh, leaving out his normal cadence of dramatic pauses and emphasis. It was still there, but it accented the words rather than define them.
Lily nodded in agreement as she took a sip of her drink, content to let the man speak freely.
“The end is nigh, and all I can think about…” His voice trailed off as he looked into Lily’s eyes.
Catching on to the unfinished words, Lily softly said, “Two of us will die.”
Ulric, without any semblance of a smile, simply nodded slowly.
“And John is the only one not under his power,” she continued.
He didn’t nod this time, but even his lack of agreement signified affirmation.
