Blood Ties (17 page)

Oliver was distracted by a distant sound and turned to see Emalie shouting in his direction. Oliver peered at her through the vortex, but couldn't make out what she was saying. “What?” he shouted.

She pointed toward the stairs.

There was Sebastian bounding down the steps of the temple toward him, the thin steel Stiletto in his raised hand.

“Quickly, you must release me!”
said Selene.
“Then hide the collar!”

“But—” Oliver glanced at Sebastian. “You have to tell me how to undo the prophecy! What about the choice?” Oliver hadn't even asked about Emalie's mom yet.…

“Please, Oliver … you can summon me again later!”

“Okay, but…” Oliver hesitated. Would he have another chance?

Sebastian was almost to them, Stiletto raised. Oliver could hear him shouting now:
“Morchesss!”
It meant
death
.

“Oliver!”
Selene cried.

“I release you—” Oliver shouted.

“Aaaah!”
Selene screamed. There was a searing flash as Sebastian plunged the Stiletto into the fireflies. The scream tore at Oliver's ears—

Suddenly Dean slammed into Sebastian, knocking him to the ground. Selene's scream was cut off and the fireflies scattered wildly into the trees and rocks.

“Tsssss!”
Oliver heard his father's cry and saw him lying curled in pain and clutching at his ragged sleeve. The Stiletto, as well as Sebastian's hand and forearm, were gone.

“Dad!” Oliver screamed.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Oliver turned to see Dean standing right beside him, staring at him blankly. “Wielders of chaos, guide my hand,” he mumbled.

“What?” Oliver asked, his brain spinning. That phrase was familiar.… Oliver remembered Dean saying it on the ferry, but he also seemed to remember hearing it somewhere else—

But he couldn't finish the thought, because Dean's fist slammed into his face.

Oliver felt a blinding crack in his jaw and his entire body was lifted into the air. He sprawled to the ground and watched, dazed, as Dean grabbed the cat's collar from his hand and ran off.

Chapter 13

A Master Revealed

“
OLIVER
?”
HE SAT UP
to find Emalie running toward him through the few remaining fireflies. “Are you okay?”

“Where is shee?” Oliver slurred. His jaw seemed to be fractured. He got up and his head throbbed dully, but he shook it off. The jaw would heal soon enough.

“He—he ran that way,” Emalie stammered, pointing up the hill. “Why would Dean—”

Unfortunately, Oliver thought he knew. “His master,” said Oliver, “orders from his master.” Oliver glanced up the slope, but then his eyes fell on his father, lying on the ground, his arm gone below the elbow. He rushed over as Sebastian slowly sat up. “Dad, are you all right?”

Sebastian's eyes glowed amber. “
Tsss
… I failed,” he said, wincing and clambering to his feet. “Where is Selene?”

“Dean took the summoning charm,” Oliver began, then paused, thinking,
Don't say any more,
but he went ahead and said it, anyway, realizing that another long lie was at its end: “I think he did it under orders from his master.”

“His master…” Sebastian said distantly. Oliver expected the detached, disappointed gaze, but Sebastian nodded and gazed seriously up the hill. “You need to stop him. I'll—”

“Seb, are you down there?” Oliver recognized Tyrus's voice, calling from above.

Sebastian turned to Oliver. “Go, before they see you.” Oliver saw something in Sebastian's eyes—was it uncertainty? Worry?

“Dad—”

“I'll be fine, Ollie. Go find Dean and get that charm back. I'll be along.”

Oliver nodded. “Okay.” There was entirely too much to sort out right now, but yes, getting Dean before he delivered Selene to his master: That made sense. And he
had
to talk to Selene again.

He and Emalie ran to the side wall and scrambled over. Ducking low, they started up the rocky slope toward the ridge.

“Did you hear all that back there?” Oliver asked.

“You mean the part about how you're going to end the world and kill us all?” Emalie countered gravely. “Yeah, got that. But how could Dean do this?”

“He probably doesn't know what he's doing,” said Oliver. “I should have seen it coming, but I just.… He seemed so normal.” Oliver wondered what else Dean might have done, secretly, at any point, under the sway of his master, and kicked himself for trusting Dean as much as he had.
I was stupid to just think of him as a friend
.… No! Oliver hated that thought. Dean was still his friend.
But can I ever trust him again?
He would worry about that later.

They reached the top of the caldera wall and were buffeted by the howling winds.

“Where now?” Emalie asked.

“Could be anywhere.” Oliver sniffed the air, but the stiff breeze told him nothing. “Probably underground, though. Let's try the tunnel back to the Well.”

They followed the up-and-down ridgeline until the shadow of the cave entrance came into view below. Scrambling to it, they headed into the tunnel. Here and there, a firefly blinked, almost like another bread-crumb trail for Oliver to follow.

Hurrying through the darkness, Oliver ran over what Selene had said.
I'm going to destroy the world,
he thought darkly, knowing it wasn't supposed to bother him. A normal vampire wouldn't have felt bad about that—maybe a little inconvenienced, but not bad.
Instead,
Oliver thought:
I have to find out how to undo that prophecy.
Which meant getting the summoning charm back.

A scent finally registered. “Up ahead,” said Oliver as they neared Hades' Well. “I can smell Dean, and…” Oliver trailed off. He smelled someone else familiar. Lilacs…

“What?” asked Emalie, noticing his perplexed face.

Oliver didn't reply, but held an arm out to stop her as they reached the end of the tunnel. They peered around the corner, onto the ringed platform surrounding the Well.

There was Dean, lying on his back, eyes closed. Kneeling over him in the eerie green light from the Well was a figure in a dark, hooded robe. The figure was whispering and checking Dean's hands, which appeared to be empty. Now the figure checked Dean's pockets, then his collar. The figure huffed and threw back the hood, revealing magenta hair.

Oliver frowned and stepped out onto the platform. “Lythia,” he called.

Lythia looked up, momentarily surprised, but quickly smiling. “Hello, Oliver.”

“That's Lythia?” Emalie asked, stepping out from behind him.

“Oooh, I heard about
that,
” Lythia said, her eyes narrowing at Emalie. “Your human, right? You are the oddest thing, Oliver.”

“I—”

Lythia cut him off, holding out her open hand. “So, where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The summoning charm, silly. But of course you don't have it.” Lythia's lips curled in a pout. She looked down at Dean. “And he doesn't have it. So who does?” She twisted around and peered across the platform.

As she did, Emalie gasped.

Oliver saw it, too. On Lythia's back, between her shoulder blades, a smoky impression shimmered over her cloak: a white handprint with clear dots at the fingertips.

“You're Dean's master!” Oliver said. He thought back and realized he hadn't seen her from behind at the casino.

Lythia turned back, smiling broadly enough to reveal the points of her teeth. Then she gazed at Dean, shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “I should take this one back to the kennel and get another.”

Oliver struggled to put these new pieces together. Lythia had ordered Dean to take the summoning charm, and yet, here she was with him, but Dean didn't have it. So what had happened? But he had a more pressing question: “What do you want with Selene?”

Lythia laughed sweetly. “Silly Oliver. What did
you
want with Selene? As much information about the prophecy as you can get, I expect. That's what we want, too.”

“Who's we?”

“Tut, tut, not telling … I…”

Lythia's smile suddenly faltered.

“Her father…” Emalie whispered. Oliver saw a red glow escaping from her closed eyes, and the scarab conduit charm in her hands. “He works for Half-Light. Malcolm LeRoux…

They're after something called the Artifact, but that's not why Lythia wants the charm.… She has some plan of her own—”

“
Tsssss
—you!” Lythia hissed. Her eyes flared bright lavender and she thrust her hands out into the air in front of her, creating a shimmering wave of forces.

“Aahh!” Emalie was thrown back, landing hard, her head thudding on the floor.

“Stay out of my mind, you vermin!” Lythia's face contorted in rage and she leaped, arcing across the room, aiming straight for Emalie.

Oliver dove into her path. They slammed into each other and tumbled to the floor. Lythia writhed, getting her boots against Oliver's chest and launching back to her feet. She screamed in a venomous hiss, “Get off me, you useless waste of our kind! I'm going to eat your bratty little blood bag!”

Oliver jumped up, eyes igniting in amber. “You stay away from her.” He lunged, shoving Lythia with both hands. She flew back, smashing through the stone railing, eyes wide. A smile began to form on her lips—“Well, now”—until her back collided with the green flow of the spirits. There was an explosion of sparks and energy. The dead spirits seemed to clutch at her, attempting to suck her into the flow. Lythia's body convulsed and her eyes slid up into her head—

But then they snapped back, aflame in lavender, and she levitated back to the platform like a diving hawk. She crashed into Oliver and her fingernails raked across his shoulder, tearing through his shirt. Oliver toppled to the ground, and Lythia pinned him with her forearm across his neck.

“
Tssss,
” she hissed at him, but then smiled. “You're cute, you know,” she said devilishly. “If you want to keep it that way, don't follow me.” Lythia vaulted off him, landing on her feet with a sharp clack of her black boots, and glanced from Dean to Emalie. “You've got enough of a mess on your hands, anyway, don't you?” She dusted off her cloak. “Till next time, Oliver Nocturne.” She turned and started striding across the platform.

Oliver slid to his knees, then to his feet, preparing to jump. This wasn't over yet.…

Lythia's hand whipped out behind her, the fingers flying open, and her winnings from the casino scattered across the floor. Oliver froze as his brain helplessly began counting the teeth.

“Have fun!” Lythia called without looking back, and she dissolved into a column of black smoke. Lythia could evanesce? Even with a demon, that was still a lot of power. The column of smoke slithered over the railing and down into the Well.

It only took Oliver a moment to count the teeth, but Lythia was long gone.

He rushed to Emalie. “Hey,” he said, lifting her head. His fingers came away with a small smear of blood, and the scent of it made Oliver weak.
No
. He shook violently.
I am not that,
he scolded himself, but he still had to turn his head away as he lifted Emalie to a sitting position. She moaned groggily.

“Ow…”

“You all right?” Oliver asked.

“I don't like her.…” Emalie whispered.

“Oliver…” He heard footsteps beside him and found Dean standing there, groggy himself, rubbing his head. “I—”

“Not now, Dean,” Oliver muttered. He fought the urge to yell at him, and yet, he couldn't look Dean in the eye. “Do you know what happened to the summoning charm?”

“No…” said Dean. “It's all fuzzy. I came out of the tunnel and somebody jumped me. Knocked me right out. I.… I hit you, didn't I?”

“Yeah, well…” Oliver again had to suppress his anger. “We just met your master. Remember that girl from the casino?”

“Lythia? Really? Huh…”

“Mmm.” Oliver didn't know what to make of it. Now he heard the whirring of the glass elevator, rising from below.

“Oliver.” He turned to see his father emerging from the tunnel, walking slowly, the rags of his sleeve fluttering below the elbow. Sebastian glanced at Dean and Emalie in his usual quick, expressionless way, then his eyes bored into Oliver. “What happened?”

Oliver paused, realizing that he was about to tell his dad the truth, blow for blow, of what had just happened. How long had it been since he'd done that, without having to double-think about what he should and shouldn't say? “Dean's master was here,” he began. “Her name is Lythia LeRoux—”

“Malcolm…” Sebastian growled. “Did she get the summoning charm?”

“No,” Dean interjected. “Somebody got to me first. Hit me from behind.”

Sebastian frowned, his brow knitting thoughts silently.

Behind them, the elevator doors slid open, and footsteps rushed out. “Oliver, Sebastian…” It was Phlox, in a burgundy velvet dress that fell to the floor. Some might have thought she was dressed for a formal event, but this was a traditional combat dress. In her hand she held a curved gold blade, a cursed katana sword, and she had painted dark black triangles back from her eyes to her hairline.

“It's all right, Phlox,” said Sebastian.

Her face was steely, until she saw Sebastian's ruined sleeve and missing arm. Her eyes flashed wide, but she kept her composure. “Did you—”

Sebastian shook his head tersely. “Almost, but no. Selene had used transference to hide. Oliver found her, but someone else has her summoning charm now.”

Oliver could guess what this exchange between his parents meant. Remembering the conversation he'd overheard in Seattle, he understood now that, as the
“show of faith”
was Sebastian getting Selene's life force, maybe the
“sacrifice”
had meant the loss of his arm. They must have known that was a cost of wielding the Stiletto of Alamut, as enchanted weapons sometimes carried a price to the bearer. But Dr. Vincent would likely be able to regrow Sebastian's arm, so they hadn't been talking about making a new
son,
they'd been talking about a new
arm
. Thinking it all through now, Oliver felt great relief. He couldn't believe how wrong he'd been.