Bloodrose (26 page)

“Why?” I asked.

“A Keeper and only a Keeper can summon Bosque and force him to reveal his true form. Shay won’t be able to banish him unless that happens.”

“How can a Keeper force Bosque to do anything?” I asked. “He’s the one who controls them.”

“It has to do with the oath Keepers make in order to get their power—a test of loyalty,” she said. “Their allegiance to the Harbinger can only be sealed when he isn’t masked by a glamour. They have to commit to the real thing—and from what I understand, it isn’t pretty.”

“Warts and all,” Connor said.

“I think it’s a lot worse than warts,” Adne said.

“With luck we’ll see that for ourselves,” he said.

“Some luck,” Mason said.

Connor threw him a thin smile. “When Logan completes the invocation, Bosque will be in his true form. It’s a means of subjugating the Keepers to the Nether, but in our case it creates the opening in the veil we need to banish the Harbinger.”

I hated the thought that we were relying so much on someone with loyalties as slippery as Logan’s. “Do we really trust Logan to keep his end of the bargain?”

“Of course not!” Connor laughed. “But we don’t have a choice.”

“But what if he changes his mind?” I shouted. “Or he decides the writing on the wall actually says the Keepers are going to win?”

“It might happen.” Connor shrugged. “Not much we can do about it.”

“But he knows where the Academy is!”

Adne shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. We took care of that.”

“How?” I wiped water off my face as a wave splashed over the side of the boat.

“Sorry!” Connor yelled. “I’ll try to find a smoother route.”

“We put a hex on him,” Adne said. “If he so much as mentions Italy or the Academy or even tries to point it out on a map, he’ll choke to death on his own vomit.”

“Like what happened to Mr. Selby in Big Ideas,” Shay said. “Anika said that hexes are something all witches can pull off pretty easily, whether they’re amateurs or the professionals, like these guys.”

“Of course, the Keepers could always figure out a way to break our hex,” Connor said.

“We don’t need your commentary, Connor.” Adne slapped him on the back. “Just drive the boat!”

“Are you okay?” Shay was leaning over Mason, whose eyes were closed as his fingers, white-knuckled, gripped the edge of the boat.

Mason didn’t open his eyes but grimaced when Connor hit another wave, soaking us.

“Sorry!” Connor shouted, though he whooped as we bounced up and down.

“Just promise me that if we win, I’ll never have to get in another boat,” Mason said. “That’s all I want. No more boats.”

“Deal.” Shay put his arm around Mason. “No more boats.”

Ren climbed over to sit next to me. “How are you doing?” He leaned close and slipped his hand over mine.

“I’ll be okay,” I said, licking salt spray from my lips. “Though I think Mason’s whole ‘no more boats’ plan is a good one.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Wolves and the ocean. Just not natural.”

“No kidding,” I said.

He bent down, murmuring in my ear. “Did they hurt you, Calla? I was worried . . . Efron . . . or my . . . Emile . . .”

I shook my head. “Just the wraith.”

He squeezed my fingers tight and I looked up at him. “I’m really fine, Ren. But Sabine—”

My throat closed. No matter how good a plan it was, I hated the thought of her being at Efron’s mercy.

Still clasping my fingers tight, he growled, staring at the island that loomed before us. “I didn’t want her to go. None of us did. We argued for a long time.”

I nodded. At least I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t comfortable with this strategy. The price seemed too high.

“I thought Ethan would kill someone,” Ren was saying. “He went crazy.”

“I’m sure,” I said.

Ren smiled at me. “Kind of like Shay and I did when they took you.”

“What happened?” I asked, blushing at the warmth in his eyes. “After the wraith attacked me.”

“There was another wraith.” His smile vanished. “Two Keepers were waiting for us in the dive shop. Connor got Adne out onto the deck. She wove as fast as she could.”

“But the wraith?” I shivered, hating the memory of its stench in my nostrils, burning through my lungs. The way it had felt like I was being flayed.

“It came at us.” Ren stiffened. “I thought at least a few of us would be dead before anyone could get out.”

His eyes moved over to Shay, who was chatting amiably with Mason. He’d managed to get the seasick wolf laughing, which was impressive.

“Connor was shouting at everyone to stay back, but Shay jumped in front of him,” Ren said. “And he pulled out that sword.”

I could see the hilt peeking out over Shay’s shoulder. “The sword stopped the wraith.”

Ren nodded. “It didn’t destroy the thing, but when Shay hit the wraith, it screamed. I’ve never heard a sound like that. I thought my ears would explode. It couldn’t get past him and he held it off until Adne had the door open and we escaped.”

He growled. “But we couldn’t do anything about you. You were gone.”

“I’m here now,” I said, pulling my hand from his grasp.

“I know.” He frowned, but leaned forward and kissed my cheek, swift and soft, despite my warning growl. “If we lost you . . . I can’t think about it. But you’re here and that’s all that matters.”

I glanced over at Shay. His eyes were on us, and while he didn’t look happy, he wasn’t lunging at Ren either, which struck me as odd. He nodded once and I realized he and Ren were gazing at each other, their faces calm and mutually respectful. What the hell?

Something had changed while I was gone. I knew I should be happy they weren’t fighting, but instead my skin prickled. What was going on with them?

“Almost there!” Connor shouted, bringing the boat’s speed down.

“Hallelujah!” Mason lifted his arms to the sky.

Shay laughed. “You realize you’re cheering our arrival at an active volcano.”

“I’ll take dry land over the sea any day,” Mason said. “Even dry land that could blow up under my feet.”

As we closed in on Whakaari, the ocean swells calmed in the shelter of the island resting on the edge of New Zealand’s Bay of Plenty. The engine purred as Connor navigated the coast, beaching us on a narrow strip of sand amid bleak volcanic rock that sprawled across the landscape. The only signs of life were the birds that swooped in the air above us. As I jumped onto the sand, I was struck by the strange mixture of colors that painted the island. Dark gray and brown stones contrasted with the slices of lime green and yellow crystals that grew among them. At intervals rivers of rust-colored rocks appeared, as if Whakaari had wounds that bled freely.

Steam rose from crevices in the island, filling the air with noxious gas.

“I take it back,” Mason said, covering his nose. “The water is better than this smell. Why do we keep doing things that make me want to throw up?”

“Almost forgot.” Connor tossed gas masks to each of us. “In case the fumes get too strong.”

“Where are we headed?” Shay asked.

“Just east of here.” Connor climbed out of the boat and began fumbling inside his jacket for something. “It’s a little ways up the slope. Not far, though.”

“And we don’t know what’s waiting for us?” Ren asked.

Adne shook her head. “Anyone who’s been sent here hasn’t come back.”

“Do you guys ever have good news?” Mason said. “Or have you heard of the power of positive thinking?”

“I’m too honest to be positive.” Adne threw him a wicked smile.

“What are you doing?” Shay peered at Connor, whose back was turned to us. “What is that?”

Shay grabbed Connor’s arm, turning him around to reveal a small notebook tucked in his palm.

“Hey!” Connor shouted. “I was in the middle of a sentence.”

“Are you . . . taking notes?” Shay asked.

Connor cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. “It’s just . . . I thought that . . . you know . . . Silas.”

Adne walked over to Connor, stretched up on her tiptoes, and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re a good man after all.”

She smiled sadly, beginning to turn away, but Connor slid his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet. The kiss he crushed onto her mouth was anything but chaste and lasted so long that soon we all turned away, blushing.

When he finally set her down, his voice was thick. “I give up. I love you, Adne. I am goddamned crazy in love with you.”

Adne threaded her fingers through Connor’s, squeezing his hand. “Just don’t die in there. Okay? We have lots to talk about after all this is over.”

“I’ll do my best.” Connor almost fell over when she threw herself at him, kissing him again. Mason whistled and started clapping.

We all gazed at each other—our silly grins momentarily washing away the tension of an impending fight. Only Ren wasn’t smiling. He was eyeing Connor suspiciously.

“What?” Connor asked, frowning at the alpha.

“That’s my sister,” Ren growled.

Connor stared at him. “I know. And I love her.”

“Great,” Ren said. “But what are your intentions?”

“My intentions?” Connor looked from Ren to Adne, frowning.

Ren grinned, showing Connor his sharp canines. “When all this is over, you and I have a lot to talk about too.”

CONNOR LED THE WAY
as we scrambled over rough rock that cut into my paws. It wasn’t a long climb, but it was tiring. We had to avoid deep punctures in the earth where bursts of steam or poisonous gas could spew up without notice. Unlike the vibrant forest of the coast, Whakaari was devoid of life, an utterly alien environment. Though breathtaking, the landscape was far too ominous to be beautiful, its very appearance serving to warn away intruders.

“It’s here!” Connor called, waving us forward. We’d reached a point where the slope pitched up suddenly. Straight ahead was a gash in the rock face. Tendrils of steam slipped from the crack, dancing like silk ribbons carried off by the wind.

Drawing closer to the opening, I could see the way the steam caught light flickering within the cavern. Its colors moved from silver to crimson to gold as it fled darkness to dissipate in the air above our heads.

Mason trotted up to the entrance, sniffed, and pawed the ground anxiously. Connor raised his eyebrows and Mason shifted forms.

“You want us to go in there—seriously?” He stared at the cave. “It smells like death. Horrible, farty death.”

“Is there any other kind?” Connor asked.

“He’s right.” Adne covered her mouth and nose. “It smells nasty.”

“Are we all going to make nosegays or just get this over with?” Connor pointed to the cavern.

“Do you really know what a nosegay is?” Adne laughed. “I’m impressed.”

“That is impressive,” Mason said. “Very nineteenth century of you. Not very manly, though . . . nosegays.”

Adne put her hands on Connor’s chest. “Don’t listen to him, sweetie. I still find you very manly.”

Connor swore and ducked into the cavern while Adne laughed.

“You’re not going to ease up on him after what he said to you?” I asked her.

“Explain to me how that would be fun,” she said, grinning at me.

“You’d better keep him on his toes,” Ren said as he followed Connor. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“And I wouldn’t want to let my big brother down.”

“Good girl.” He flashed her a smile and disappeared into the cavern.

I squeezed my way into the cave. The air was hot, close, and smelled awful. I began to sweat immediately. Noxious gases seeped into each breath, unpleasant but not harmful enough to merit donning our masks. The tunnel was narrow but not too cramped; we could move along without stooping. Subtle, flickering hues that mimicked firelight illuminated our path. The gentle slope of the earth told me we were slowly making our way into the belly of the volcano.

Connor suddenly stopped, dropping to his stomach and squirming forward. As I got closer, I saw why. The tunnel had opened up, revealing a broad ledge. Connor had crawled to the edge, peering over it. One by one we bellied up alongside him. My breath caught at the sheer drop off the side. The path continued beyond the ledge, where it cut down sharply, transforming from a straight line into a tight, steep spiral.

More than a hundred feet below, I could see an open space, carved in a broad circle out of the volcanic rock. Its smooth surface was broken only by the occasional crevice, belching out steam. A raised stone slab—an unpleasant reminder of the sacrificial dais in the Keepers’ Chamber below Eden—lay at the center of the space. Hovering above the altar was the shimmering figure of a woman. Diaphanous robes of crimson and gold floated around her body, lending her a quality of substance that I knew wasn’t actually there.