Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance) (23 page)

"I'm not turning this off because I want you to see his face when he realizes the Tithe is broken." She smiles and saunters over to me.

I am fuming and think naively that whatever she's about to do won't hurt because of how furious I am. Once again, I am woefully wrong.

Strangely I find myself watching Trinity's expression. I'm not screaming because that would take energy that I no longer have. I'm hanging by my wrists now, unable to stand on my own two feet.

"No! Stop hurting her!" Lucan is crying harder now. "Please stop!"

Trinity is trying to concentrate and answer questions that are being asked by a variety of medical experts and politicians, but he knows something is wrong. And I wonder if he's trying to speak to me.

"Mom!"

Iris turns from me momentarily to speak to Lucan, "Sweetheart, this is the way it has to be. I don't expect you—"

Lucan forcefully interrupts her, "I wasn't talking to you,
Iris
.. You can go to hell for all I care!" He tries to keep the mean look on his face but his cries soon overwhelm his bravery and he falls apart.

My ribs give way to the force of whatever she's wielding. I can't tell what it is, just that it's pretty fucking solid. I feel it coming, the final blow. My sight starts to fade a little around the edges. On the television, Trinity jumps from his chair, his hand grazing his chest like he's having a heart attack. And I know the Tithe is broken.

Iris laughs, pausing long enough to fully take in Trinity's panic. He excuses himself from the newscast and disappears from the camera.

"What a shame," Iris sighs. "I thought that was far more interesting than all of his bullshit about saving mankind."

"He will save them! And he'll save us!" Lucan screams.

Iris laughs, "No, no. Trinity isn't trying to save mankind. He's going to trade their lives, some of them anyhow, for an army of undefeatable soldiers. Too bad he doesn't know that they'll only obey me."

She turns abruptly, tilting my head up with the point of a blade, and says softly, "Goodbye, dear sister of mine. Trinity will be devastated to know that it was his Blood Tithe with you that made you vulnerable enough to kill."

The last thing I see before dying is my sister as she leaves the room.

Blake said it wasn't a sure thing.
The odds of death are greater than the odds that I will come through this, but as the darkness closes in, a single phrase repeats in my head:
I will live.

There is nothingness for a time.

Then a light appears in the distance. It shimmers like polished silver.

I will live.

The light explodes, becoming a hundred glittery squares beneath my feet, a chessboard of black and silver.

I will live.

"Jessica, you have come home," a voice says softly.

I watch as a figure materializes, dressed in armor the color and pitch of night. He lifts his visor and though I don't know how—I know him.
Father.

He takes me into his arms and for several long moments I breathe in his scent.

"It is time," he says.

I pull from his embrace. "No. I can't—"

My father smiles sadly, "It is too late, my child. You have drawn your last breath."

No!
"Iris—"

"Iris has given herself to the darkness. It is not the same. Do you not see this blessing for what it is? Iris will use her power for vengeance and the world that you think you love will suffer for it. Come, before it is too late."

I take another step back. "No."
I will live.

The being who I believed to be my father morphs into a creature no mortal nightmare could bear. Ten feet tall, a red cloak sits ragged on his shoulders, his face a black void beneath his hood. Great wings stretch wide and then fold as he takes a seat upon his throne. A hand stretches out, thin-fleshed and raw, and points at my chest.

His voice is dark and chillingly detached. "Why do you insist on carrying a burden that is no longer yours to bear?" That's when I realize this is not merely a horrific creature; this is one of the guardians.

"I'm already changed. I'll never be who I once was and I don't care how much pain I suffer or what is done to my body. Take my life instead of theirs. Take my soul!"

He laughs, but it is a sad and sympathetic sound, almost compassionate. "Child, the offer you make is endearing. But your soul is of no use to us. Come into the light and be free of your pain. You will not win against Iris. You cannot win."

Tears fill my eyes. "What is your name?" I ask.

I am greeted by a long silence before he finally says, "Caen. Why do you wish to know?"

I approach him and though it chills me to do so, I press my hand over his. "Because there's power in a name, Caen. My son's name is Lucan."

Caen pulls his hand away. "I have no need for his name. The wall between the worlds is a living wall, composed of the souls of those who chose to sacrifice their eternities in exchange for something finite." He gestures to the inky black depth that moans softly around us. He remains quiet momentarily for me to listen to the sound. "The souls of two royal blood immortals are worth more that the souls of every being born into your world since its inception."

I clench my hand into a fist. "My son never traded anything! How can you rightfully claim his soul, or does Darkness need no reason?"

"You have mistaken us for something we are not. We are neither good nor evil. We are balance."

I am growing aware of a prickling heat that has worked its way up my back and is now licking at my neck, like the beginning of an allergy not yet fully realized. "They suffer. Listen to them! How can you hear their cries and claim innocence? You say I've been set aside, spared somehow, but from what? I can't let this happen. Give me time. I will find something of greater worth to you."

"There is nothing of greater worth," he says simply. "This suffering you hear is nothing in comparison to that which would befall us all if the balance between the worlds were lost."

I let the last of my pride slip away and I kneel before him. "Caen. Give me time. What will you lose by letting me live?"

"It is not my loss, it is yours, Jessica. If I allow you to live, darkness will covet you just like it does Iris. You do not understand. She may have won the power over the army that Lord Tristan has ushered in, but she will pay the ultimate cost for it. They will turn on her in the end and all that will be left of your world is death and agony. There is nothing left for you there."

I take his hand and lead it to my face, rest it against my wet cheek. "Don't ask how I know this, but you were different once. Have you forgotten what it was like to love someone so much there isn't anything in this world or the next that you wouldn't do to save them? Let me try to fix things."

Caen's hand trembles now and he whispers a word—a name, perhaps. "I have not forgotten." He pulls his hand away again and stands, towering over me while I remain kneeling. "You have three days before the Winter Solstice. There, at the gate, the creatures born of darkness will become visible to mankind and the final days on Earth will begin—payment will be due in full. I wish you luck."

"Thank you," I say, my words obscured through tears.

"Do not thank me, child. If you fail to escape your immediate surroundings in time, you will be in unbearable agony and may remain so until it is time again for you to meet me here."

I nod slowly, realizing that the mild heat I felt before has started to burn.
Fire.

"Are you certain?" he asks, offering his hand to me. "I can stay some of the pain of your immortal wounds, but cannot take them away."

"I will live," I whisper.

Lucan
is crying and screaming and apparently untied because he is tugging at the steel bands at my arms.

"Lucan," I have to force out his name because the pain in my chest is unbelievable, just as the guardian said it would be. I can feel everything that Iris did to me, including the searing pain that runs across my eye and down my cheek.

Lucan jumps back, his eyes wide. "You were dead. You didn't have a pulse."

I nod and draw another ragged breath. "You have to get these off me." Either that, or we're going to have to saw off my newly indestructible hands and I
really
don't want to know how that feels.

It takes Lucan a second shake himself from his shock and say, "I've looked all over the room. There isn't anything to cut the steel."

Crap. Couldn't the guardian have reminded me about this?

Despite the rising temperature in the room, I am chilled by the sound of yet another voice in my head. I have renewed sympathy for schizophrenics.
Use the power, Jessica, but use it sparingly. The more you use the dark gift, the more it will call to them.

"Stand back, Lucan." I don't have the slightest idea what for. Aren't people with powers supposed to go through training or mentorship or something?
Caen, help me out here. I don't know how to use it.

Close your eyes and pull from the energy in the room.

I do as he says and while one would expect this to go swimmingly, I haven't the faintest idea how to "draw" anything from thin air.
Um, we really don't have time for me to stand here meditating. And damn it, I hurt.

It is like drawing blood. Use your mind and focus on a central point—try your chest and concentrate. It will come to you as soon as you let go.

I try again and this time, I figure it must look pretty cool because little man seems mildly impressed.

"Holy crap! Wait, this is a good thing, right?" Lucan asks.

I open my eyes as the bands fall away. "Yes," I say. Then add as a whisper, "Unless you're Iris."
Thank you, Caen.

The room we're in is small but not bereft of your run-of-the-mill torture room accoutrements and it makes me wonder how I could seriously be related to someone cruel enough to arrange a room like this.

After manhandling open a steel door, opposite the direction the smoke is coming from, we exit into a tunnel. That's when it occurs to me that we're either below ground or in a mountain. There is electricity—cables are everywhere and water pipes seem to extend the length of the tunnel we're in.

"Is that dirt?" Lucan touches the wall and it crumbles below his fingers. "It is. We're like, underground."

"Yup. Looks that way. Come on." I grab him by the hand and we run for a short ways before smoke starts to catch up with us from behind. What if we're running into nothing but more earth? What if Iris blocked the only way out of here?

Lucan starts coughing, and I press him to me, trying to block some of the smoke with what little of a shirt I have left. "This sucks," he says. "When are you gonna blast us out of here?"

"I don't think it works like that." Though it's not a bad idea. Too bad my powers don't function that way. I do, however, recall Iris taking a dive out of a window. "Let's pick the pace up a little, huh?"

He nods as best he can while still hacking and we keep going, taking one turn after another until finally we come to another door. I let go of Lucan and bear all of my weight against it until it opens and we step into a shallow room with a gaping hole at the far end. I walk ahead to see that it opens up to the ocean below. Very far below. We're on the side of a cliff.

"You got wings hidden in there somewhere?" Lucan points to me.

"No," I say. Smoke has started to trickle into the small room. I shut the door and lean against it to think.

"What are we going to do?" He is really giving his best effort at staying calm, but his voice is wavering and I know he's frightened.

Iris did accomplish an unrealistic feat. Though two stories and two hundred feet are two very different things. I walk back to the precipice and look down.

"Are you serious?" Lucan asks.

I could most likely make it, but would I be able to break his fall? I sigh and wonder if telling him is a good idea or if I should do this like ripping off a bandage.

"No way," he whispers.

Bandage it is. I close my eyes to gather the guts and then, with more speed than I've ever had, I grab him and hold him tightly in my arms as I leap off of the cliff.

I twist just after we are in the air to make sure I am below him when we hit.
He's screaming and I feel bad, but then again, it was this or death. He'll thank me later.

"When I say so, I need you to hold your breath. Okay?" I yell, hoping he can hear me.

"What?" he yells, then screams some more.

"Hold your breath when I tell you."

"We're gonna die! Why am I gonna hold my breath?" More screaming.

"Lucan, you're gonna be fine. Hold your breath when I say."

"Now?"

"No, in just a second."

"Now?"

"No, just … now! Hold your breath now!" And we hit with more force than I anticipated. Since we're on that subject, I'd better stop anticipating things since I'm nearly always off.

It takes me a minute to surface and discover that being a kick-ass immortal doesn't make me immune to choking. I am spitting up water and looking around frantically for Lucan when I hear him a few feet away.

"Hey! The shore's over here! Come on!" He turns and motions to the shore, which isn't too far from where we are. It takes us about five minutes to reach the rocky beach.

I crawl onto the sand, still spitting up water. Lucan seems totally fine and is rearranging his PJs.

"Holy snot, that was sick! Can we do that again sometime?"

I laugh and then groan, laying face-first on the sand. "I am guessing from your excitement that you're okay?"

He pauses, feeling his arms and legs before answering, "Yup. Uber."

"You German now?" The pain in my chest and across my face is sharpening. I'm beginning to understand that it is going to wax and wane and that absolutely nothing I do is going to lessen it.

He laughs, sounding hauntingly like Jacelynd. "Uber means very."

"I'm so uncool for asking, I suppose."

"Nah. You're immune for a while after jumping off a cliff like that. So, what do we do now?"

A few options flit through my head before I come to the conclusion that not only do I still have no idea where we are, I don't know where the others are either. I was too wrapped up in reminiscing on the way there from the airport to pay attention. I don't even know the phone number there or any of their cells. The only one I know that would do any good is Trinity's. And that still doesn't sound like a good idea, all things considered.

I prop myself on my elbows, my lower body still being rocked by the waves. "We need to find a gate that leads to another world. I know, don't look at me like I'm retarded. I didn't think this stuff up. So … you're a bright kid, any ideas on where we should start looking?"

"You're asking me?" He seems almost honored by the idea. "Mom … I mean Iris … used to never ask me for my input on anything."

"Well, I'm not Iris. And I know how awesome you are. I even know what kind of music you like."

"No way," he laughs. "What's my favorite band?"

"Hmm. Cross between Ben Folds Five, Flogging Molly and Linkin Park."

"Righteous," he whispers. "What's the meaning of life? No, wait, who killed JFK?"

"I don't know everything. Besides, your iPod is at the castle."

He picks up a handful of wet sand and throws it at me, hitting me on the top of my head. "Loser!"

I laugh, the pain momentarily subsiding and playfully return the sand, and we launch into a few-minute-long sand-throwing war that ends in me tickling the crap out of him.

"Uncle, uncle! Stop, I'm going to pee my pants," he giggles.

I stop and sit up as the pain returns. "I've missed so much of your life."

He remains prone. "Nah. We're immortal, remember? Besides, you don't have to fool with all the gross stuff, like potty training and diaper changes. And I've been told I had
legendary
dumps even as a baby!"

I smile weakly, then without asking his permission I pull him up to me and hug him for all he's worth. To my surprise, he hugs me back.

"You know, we look kind of silly. What we're wearing." He tugs at my shirt, which truly looks scary.

"Yeah. I have a penchant for destroying clothes. I'll have to see about getting some help with that." I laugh and tousle his hair, like I did outside of Callmadus.

"Is Trinity really doing what Iris says he's doing?"

I look at him, his green eyes so innocent; he's already been crushed once. I don't have the heart to do this right now. "Trinity loves you like you're his own son. He told me that. Sometimes people do stupid things."

"And Trinity's doing something stupid?"

"Well, he's done a few stupid things in his lifetime. That doesn't mean he's a bad person." This is as good a bullshit line as I can come up with at the present time. I just wish I believed it. "We need to make it back to where your father is."

"My father's in Ireland?" He suddenly lights up.

"Yes, and he's probably really, really, really mad at me right now, but luckily he'll be so happy to meet you that he won't think about that." I can only hope.

"What do I say to him?"

I stand and help Lucan to his feet. "Don't worry about the words. Someone really wise once told me that."

Since
I look like I just walked out of
Rocky Horror Picture Show
and little man is in his jammies, we really can't waltz into town and start browsing through the local telephone directory. That and we're in the middle of flipping nowhere.

We walk for what feels like a lifetime before finding shelter for the night. We could be walking away from where we need to be, for all I know. I build a fire and we huddle near it, though it's more for emotional comfort because neither of us is really cold.

"Do you think Trinity's worried?" Lucan asks.

To put it mildly.
"I can't imagine that he wouldn't be. When was the last time you had blood?"

He shrugs. "I dunno. Before I got here, I guess."

I bite into my left wrist and turn to Lucan, holding it out for him. "Here."

He takes me up on the offer and drinks from me. I can't help but to smooth his hair from his forehead while he does. It's all sweaty and matted, like a toddler who got too warm while he slept. He wipes his mouth when he's done.

"Feel better?" I ask.

He nods, yawning.

"Come here." I pull him to me, while moving until my back is against a large rock. We're near enough to the shore to hear the water rolling onto the beach. He curls easily against me, and just like his father, he's asleep before he can think to fight the exhaustion.

I should probably follow suit, but I'm too concerned about the future to let go and close my eyes. Iris won't know we're alive for a while—so we won't run into any Death Dealers tonight. It's the long-term scenarios that are so troublesome. I didn't get to watch the news long enough to see the things Trinity forecasted to develop, but I know they will, if they haven't already. Humans are selfish creatures at their core. They'll rob, kill and steal to get the vaccine faster. Some political activist group will start protests, claiming the government is part of some global conspiracy to kill them and turn everyone into Soylent Green and when no one is willing to listen, they'll start bombing the health centers. I smirk, but only because for once they're kind of right. This is a conspiracy. And it kind of does involve aliens, if you consider all otherworldly beings aliens.

What concerns me most of all, aside from the positively terrifying probability of Starbucks going under when mankind ceases to exist, is the thought of losing my son and my husband. Both of their souls have been tethered to a world I can't even reach. A world I know nothing about. It's different when you are given a brief on your target. You're told where they hang out, what their routines are. What their weaknesses are. Now, I have nothing. I don't even know myself anymore.

I look down at my arms as I hold Lucan tightly to me. My skin used to be riddled with small scars here and there and now there is nothing. No physical trace remains of my life as an assassin. Imagine having freckles and then suddenly having none. I would say it was like discovering you aren't human anymore, but I never was.

And, there is an itsy, bitsy part of me that hears the grief in Trinity's voice as he screamed for me to drink from him at Callmadus. I had thought him responsible for what Iris had clearly done and I will never be able to wipe from my memory the look on his face as I asked him why he had done that.

And I find myself wondering about a world where things had been different for him. What if he'd never gotten involved in his father's political dealings? What if he'd had no part in the murder of Jacelynd's family? What if he and Quinn had been friends and he was one of us? At some point he made a decision, a single decision that mapped out the course he would take from then on; a course that would bring him here. What if he'd made another choice? A different picture begins to paint itself in my mind of a man I thought I knew.

Lucan is so young, as Trinity once was. Did Trinity ask his father the kinds of questions all sons ask? Did he look to a man with no conscience for a moral compass and leadership? What if he'd never been given the chance to do so? What if he'd been raised away from his real parents and instead fostered by ones who, like Jacelynd's family, cared for him and encouraged the right things? Would he have turned out the same? The part of me that is angry with him for hurting me wants to say it wouldn't have made a difference. He is like his father, corrupted from birth. But, the other part of me, perhaps the one who still remembers what encouraged me to address that final letter to him, thinks he would be changed.

He's
been on my tail for an hour now, but these woods are thick and I know them like the back of my hand. I don't care if I'm on his land or that he's the son of a king. He's easy enough to lose.

Lady Gray, my mare, tires and eventually I find a place for us to rest and for her to get some water. I sit down and lean against a tree to close my eyes. I stretch out my legs and cross them at the ankles. I'm wearing pants and riding boots, not common attire for human women. Then again, I'm not human. And riding in a dress is positively miserable.

I hear approaching footsteps and fight to keep the smile from my face. He probably thinks he's sneaking up on me.

"My lady, for a trespasser you're unbelievably knowledgeable of these woods," he says. He's out of breath.

With my eyes still closed, completely untouched by his arrival, I say, "For someone who ought to know how to take a person by surprise, you're unbelievably loud."

I open my eyes. He's tall, with broad shoulders and is likely a formidable opponent. His build is muscular and though I'm loath to admit it, somewhat intimidating. This does not at all detract from his being devastatingly handsome.

I lift my arms into the air and nonchalantly stretch.

He leans into the tree with a palm on the trunk and peers down at me. "You don't fear what they'll do to you if they catch you here?"

"Well, considering who
you
are, it would seem as though I'm already in that predicament. Wouldn't you say?"

His cheeks flush, which only serves to highlight how spectacularly unusual his blue-green eyes are. His smile widens as he asks, "And who exactly do you think I am?"

"That's a cheeky way of getting me to address you by your full title, but if you wish to hear it that badly, Prince Jacelynd." When he doesn't immediately respond I continue, "Begotten of King Nuada and Queen Elatha of the—"

"Stop, stop … I am woefully familiar with my ancestry." He's laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes and I get the impression he's used to women falling all over themselves in his presence. "Will you grant me the pleasure of having your name?"

"What, no beheading? Or do you want my name so that you can sentence me properly? I suppose I should at least rise. Being condemned to death while on my rear-end seems a tad … improper."

He reaches for my hand, seemingly at a loss for words, and helps me to my feet. Once I'm standing, I see I'm at least a foot and a half shorter than he is. I mirror his actions and lean against the tree with my hand a few inches from his. He still hasn't let go of my other one.