CHAPTER SIX
D
ec was swimming in an oily black sea, his lungs screaming for air. He couldn’t move his arms and legs. He tried to open his eyes, but it was impossible. He tried to say Galena’s name, but his tongue and lips wouldn’t obey.
But he could see her face in his mind, wide green eyes fixed on him. Trusting him to protect her. With that thought, he fought to find the surface, to draw a single lungful of precious air. He struggled to raise his head.
“Dec,” she whispered. “Please.”
I’m trying.
His muscles tensed. She needed him.
“Dec,” she said again. But she sounded different this time. Differen
t . . .
but familiar. “Can you open your eyes?”
“Aislin?” The word came out thin and shredded, but he was rewarded by a squeeze of his hand. It was enough to bring him back. His eyelids fluttered open. Blue-and-green wallpaper, custom blown-glass light fixture.
Rylan’s office.
He bolted upright.
His older sister, the Charon, sat in a chair next to the couch where h
e’d
been lying. She was wearing a pale-blue suit that matched her eyes. Her platinum-blonde hair was in its usual elegant twist. Her hand, fingernails perfectly manicured, stroked his hair. “You’re safe, Declan. Calm down.”
Dec relaxed a little as he reminded himself that Aislin was in charge now. This was her office at Psychopomps headquarters, not Rylan’s anymore, and before it was his, it had been their father’s.
But how did he get here? He looked around. He and Aislin weren’t alone; in fact, the room was pretty crowded. Tamasin and Nader stood near one of the windows, looking more human than h
e’d
ever seen them. Moros himself stood next to them, millennia old but looking no more than thirty-five, dressed impeccably in a suit, his dark hair slicked back, his eyes metal gray. Cacy was sitting on the couch across from Dec, still wearing her paramedic uniform. Eli was next to her, covered in dust and blood, probably from the explosion he and Cacy had responded to.
Eli’s arm was around Galena, whose hair was gray with dust. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her cheek was scraped and swollen.
“Are you—?” Dec began.
“A little bruised,” she said quietly, grimacing at the rasp in her throat, “but not hurt.”
“Because of you, Declan,” said Nader, his hard-edged voice slicing through the room. He bowed his head. “Only because of you.”
Tamasin bowed her head as well, but not before Dec caught her glancing anxiously at Moros’s gloved hands. His touch meant doom, and all the Kere feared it. Hell, everyone feared it.
But Moros merely shifted his steely gaze from Galena to Dec. “It seems we owe you our gratitude, Declan. How is your head?”
Dec frowned and ran his hand over the top of his head. “Fine. I think?”
“You had a depressed fracture to the parietal,” Eli said, then he looked down at his hand, which Galena was gripping tightly.
“In other words, you got your head bashed in,” said Cacy. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I went to Galena’s lab to let her know her research volunteer had been killed,” Dec said slowly.
“You should have let me know immediately,” Aislin interjected. Her pressed lips conveyed pure disapproval.
“With all due respect, Ms. Ferry,” Galena said, her voice faint and difficult to catch, “I really appreciate that he came to tell me in person.”
Eli shifted in his seat and gave Cacy a sidelong glance. “So do I. Especially because Galena wouldn’t be sitting here if sh
e’d
been there alone when the bomb went off.” An explosion wouldn’t have killed her unless she were Marked. But it might have put her into an irreversible coma, her brilliance destroyed, her body broken.
Dec tried to recall exactly what had happened, but all he came up with was a rush of heat and a deafening roar. His gaze met Galena’s. “Your lab.”
She didn’t look away. “Gone. Everything is gone.”
“Not everything,” he said, fighting the urge to cross the room and take her hand. She seemed beyond tears, shell-shocked and almost numb. “You’re still alive.”
She tucked her head against Eli’s shoulder and nodded, but it was clear Dec’s words had done nothing to comfort her. It bothered him more than it should have.
Moros stepped forward. “Obviously and unfortunately, there is another rogue Ker, possibly more than one.” The glint of red in his eyes faded slightly as he looked at Aislin. “I will do all I can to determine who is responsible.”
“So will I,” Aislin replied, holding her head high. The ornate Scope of the Charon glinted at her throat. “Tonight has been costly. None of the deceased were sanctioned Markings.”
“Incorrect,” said Moros. “The Marking of Jian Lee, one of Dr. Margolis’s assistants, was authorized.”
Galena raised her head. “What?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Jian’s dead?”
Moros tilted his head. “Mr. Lee was Marked by Trevor. He committed suicide by jumping into the Charles.”
Galena’s shoulders hunched forward, like sh
e’d
been punched in the chest. But then she went very still, and her brow furrowed. “Did he leave a note?”
Moros’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t know, as that is a mortal concern, one for the police and the young man’s family.”
Galena shook her head. Dec wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was. Jian looked awfully guilty from where he was sitting.
“Despite Mr. Lee’s sanctioned death,” Moros continued, “it is true that we have a crisis on our hands. Not only because of the unauthorized Markings.”
“No, because someone was able to plant a bomb in Galena’s lab,” growled Eli.
Nader and Tamasin stepped a little closer to one another, huddling. “We were within thirty feet of Dr. Margolis at all times,” Tamasin said. “We couldn’t have seen anyone in her lab beforehand—we weren’t there until she was.”
“And our guards dropped Dr. Margolis off at the door of the building, thinking she was well protected,” said Aislin.
“If Dec hadn’t shielded Galena with his own body, that would have been it,” said Cacy.
Dec shuddered. He could heal, even if his skull was caved in. But Galena couldn’t. “We need to do a better job,” he said. “We were lucky tonight.”
“What if I quit?” Galena said.
All eyes in the room fell on her, and she shrank back a little but kept her head up. Dec could see that her eyes were shiny with tears. “What if I halted my research?”
“That’s not an option.”
“I don’t want anyone else to die because of me!” She rose from the couch, shrugging off Eli’s protective arm. “I’m serious. Seven innocent people died tonight. And whoever killed them made sure each of them knew it was because of my work. I had to listen to one of them take her last breath, knowing she was in terrible pain and I couldn’t help her.” Galena swiped her hands across her cheeks to wipe away the tears. “I’ve had enough of people coming after me, after my family”—she put her hand on Eli’s shoulder—“and after the people I work with. I can’t do this.”
Moros cleared his throat. “Galena, my dear, you cannot turn away from what fate has in store for you. In the scheme of things, seven deaths is nothing compared to the millions of lives you will save.”
Galena rounded on him. “They weren’t nothing to
me
, Mr. Moros.”
Eli stood up and took her hand. “G, we know that. But I know you. You’re upset tonight. You’ve been through hell. You’re hurting. Tomorrow when you wake up, though, you’re going to want to continue your work.”
She pulled her hand away from him. “With what? My lab has been destroyed. All my equipment, all my samples, all my trial serums.
Gone.
”
“But your data wasn’t destroyed with your computer, right?” asked Cacy. “Wasn’t it saved to the cloud?”
“Some of it,” admitted Galena. “But some of it was so sensitive that it was stored in servers on-site.”
“You should call Dr. Cassidy first thing tomorrow,” said Eli. “She’ll know how the salvage operation is being handled. And I bet she’ll be glad to know you’re all right,” he added softly. “She really seems to care about you.”
Galena bit her lip and looked away. “I know, bu
t . . .
” She grimaced.
Dec’s brain was a sea of conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, it would be an utter tragedy for Galena to give up her research, not only for her, but for the world. On the other han
d . . .
“Getting back her data doesn’t help us with the fact that someone tried to take Galena out tonight,” he said. “The Kere couldn’t keep her safe. Neither could our guards.”
None of them said it aloud, but Dec was sure all the immortals in the room were thinking the same thing: as an ordinary human, Galena was painfully vulnerable. Sooner or later, the enemy would get to her.
Cacy looked up at Galena from her position on the couch. “There may be something we can do about that.”
“If you’re planning to lock me up in some—”
Cacy put up her hands. “I’m not suggesting that at all.”
“Then what
are
you suggesting?” asked Aislin. “Because despite what Moros just said”—she tossed him a cool, assessing glance—“ultimately, it is Galena’s choice whether she continues her research.”
Moros gave Dec’s eldest sister a knowing look. “And wouldn’t it be convenient if she didn’t, my dear?” he said quietly.
Aislin glared at him.
“I have something to propose,” Cacy said. “We could make her a Ferry.”
Dec’s heart seized in his chest, so tight he couldn’t speak. She couldn’t be serious. Aislin looked like she felt the same way he did, but probably for an entirely different reason.
“You can do that?” Eli asked, his voice suddenly full of hope.
“It’s not that easy,” Cacy said, giving Galena a hesitant look. “Since she wasn’t born a Ferry, sh
e’d
have to be married into the family.”
Galena took a step closer to Eli. “What?”
“If you marry into the family and become one of us,” Cacy replied, “you will be officially protected from being Marked or harmed by a Ker.”
“That won’t stop a rogue from attacking,” Eli argued. He turned to Moros. “Would it?”
Moros ran his tongue over one of his unusually sharp canines. “It wouldn’t. Though when I discover the identity of the rogue, his or her existence is over.”
“But that might be too little, too late,” said Eli.
Cacy put her arm around his waist. “But Eli, remember that Ferrys heal.
Really
quickly. We can’t be killed unless the Charon wills it. I mean, look at Dec. Two hours ago his head was cracked open, and now he’s good as new.”
Dec ran a hand over the back of his head. His hair was crusted with his own blood and dusty with chipped plaster and grit. He couldn’t wrap his barely healed brain around what Cacy was suggesting. Couldn’t accept it, and couldn’t understand the ache in his chest. He looked over at Galena, expecting her to turn the idea down cold, and was shocked to see her looking at Cacy with her eyebrows raised, interest and hope in her eyes.
“That’s all I have to do?” she asked. “If I marry into the Ferry family, I can withstand a complex depressed skull fracture and go on with my research the next day?”
Moros chuckled. “Perhaps one of these esteemed Ferrys should explain some of th
e . . .
complexities.” He was looking right at Aislin, a distinctly amused glint in his eyes. Aislin remained silent, her arms folded at her waist and her lips pressed tightly together.
Galena turned away from them to look at Dec. His gut clenched. He could read the request in her eyes. She wanted
him
to explain it. He cleared his throat. Galena deserved to know everything before she considered this path. Dec just wished he could figure out whether he wanted her to take it or not.
It was true that it might save her. It might enable her to complete her research.
It could also destroy her. Maybe not physically, but certainly emotionally. And wouldn’t that be the same thing as killing her?
“There are two rituals,” he said slowly. “One formal and on
e . . .
informal. But both are mandatory for becoming a true Ferry.” He ran his hand over a smear of blood on the thigh of his uniform, feeling everyone’s stares. “The first is the Mark of the Ferry. It goes on your back. You’ve probably seen Cacy’s.” At the Harvard fund-raiser, sh
e’d
worn a dress that had put it on full display, much to Aislin’s chagrin.
“Yeah,” Galena said quietly. “A raven.”
Dec nodded, keeping his head down. “Accepting the Mark and the Scope allows you to walk in the Veil. Regular humans are only shadows there. Ferrys are solid, able to enter and leave it at will, using their Scopes. Able to open a window to Heaven or Hell when it’s called for. So that’s the formal ceremony. Our version of a wedding.” He licked his lips. His mouth was so damn dry.
“So what’s the informal ceremony for?” she asked.
He couldn’t look at her. His chest and face suddenly felt very hot. He couldn’t push Moros’s words out of his mind, when Moros had told Dec what had happened to Galena a few years ago. But he forced himself to keep talking. “The informal ceremony is what makes the person truly immortal, and what makes a regular human body able to heal quickly and completely under most circumstances.”
“Sounds important. Why is it informal, then?” Eli asked.
Dec raised his head. “Because it’s very private.”
Eli became very still. “Private?”
Dec nodded. He couldn’t go on, and Aislin seemed to sense that. Her voice was smooth and merciless as she explained. “We do not marry for appearances. You would have to commit to the choice with body and soul.”
“Body and soul?” Galena’s eyes had gone a little glassy. It was clear that marrying “for appearances” was what she had been hoping for. “So what you’re saying is—”
“The marriage must be consummated in order for the ritual to be complete,” said Aislin.
“Oh,” whispered Galena. She slowly sank onto the couch cushions. Her lovely face glinted with pinprick beads of sweat.
“Is this something you would sanction?” Moros asked Aislin. “After all, you are the Charon.”