The Eternal Tomb (12 page)

Oliver expected one of Lythia's typical sarcastic comebacks, but instead she lunged, landing beside Oliver, her face inches from his. “Yeah, I did. And you know what? You're the lucky one. How'd you like to have a brother like
that
?” She waved her hand back toward her father's yacht. “Maybe if you and your brother weren't such screwups, Half-Light wouldn't have had to make another prophecy vampire. Maybe
my
brother wouldn't be so messed up!” Lythia's eyes burned lavender.

Oliver tried to glare back at Lythia, but his anger was fading. Now he found himself asking, “What happened to him?”

Lythia stood up and looked away. “Everything started out fine,” she said. “I remember the night my parents came home with little Alexy, freshly sired. They put him in a tiny wicker basket of soil. I sat by it all night, waiting for him to rise, and finally he started flailing and crying.

“We had twenty lovely and wicked years together,” Lythia continued, “before that white knight of a doctor came along to start the force treatments. I could hear my dad grumbling, about how the
other one
—that would be you, Nocturne—was having issues, not sleeping and being all-around pathetic. So they started prepping Alexy to take your place, just in case. Only not everyone's made for that kind of thing. You may be a pathetic, sniveling drip, Nocturne, but your force signatures were strong enough to withstand the good doctor's treatments. But not Alexy…”

Lythia slammed her fist against the sailboat mast. “He was twice the cunning vampire that
you
ever were, but his forces got out of balance. Little by little, he didn't learn like the other kids, never got his words right, acted violent. He had to be restrained, locked up, until it all just broke down. Now look at him.” She glared at Oliver. “And it's your fault.”

“It's not!” Oliver protested. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, and how confused it made him feel. “It's Half-Light's fault.”

“Yeah, well, true. It's theirs, too. Everyone's a bit to blame. That's how it always goes, isn't it?”

“Yes, master,” the large zombie boy said dutifully.

“Oh, shut up!” Lythia whirled and shoved the zombie off the boat. He crashed into the water with a tremendous splash. “Anyway, so there you have it. Lythia has a screwed up brother, too. Join the club.” She paced away again.

Oliver watched her, wondering so many things. He'd thought all month about the moment when he'd see her again…but he'd never imagined it going like this.

Lythia stalked back toward them, the other zombies giving her a wide berth. “They think Alexy's already gone, that his mind is fried,” Lythia said quietly, “but he's not. When I'm alone with him, and we talk—well, it's me doing all the talking, which is never a problem—I see him in there. He
hears
me. But he won't for much longer.” Lythia shook her head sharply. “Not after tomorrow night. After they fill him up with bona fide Anointment powers, it's gonna blow his gaskets. Good-bye, brother. But all they care about is…well, you know all about that, don't you?”

Oliver nodded. Their predicament was actually very similar. And as much as he couldn't believe it, he was looking at Lythia and his fury was turning into…understanding? So now what? What was he supposed to do with
that
feeling?

You're doing great
, Emalie thought to him.
You've almost gotten her to admit what she's really up to
.

“Oh, I know that face,” said Lythia, her eyes narrowing. “Blood bag over there is playing mind footsies with you, isn't she?” Lythia clasped her hands together. “It's love, isn't it? 'Cause
that's
gonna work out. A human girl and a vampire boy. Ha.”

Oliver struggled to think through what Lythia was saying. It wasn't easy. Some of his anger was still floating around inside, and Lythia's demon presence always made his head feel foggy. He had to focus! The Anointment was going to ruin Alexy's mind.… Half-Light didn't care.… Lythia thought he could
hear
her…that she could.…

There it is
, Emalie thought. Oliver saw it, too. Lythia had already tipped her hand. “You want to save your brother. That's what you've been up to,” Oliver said. And shockingly, that was just like what Bane had done for him.

“Ta-dah!” Lythia thrust her finger in the air. “All that time with humans and zombies hasn't completely dumbed you down, Nocturne. But don't think I'm telling you any more.”

“Why are you telling us anything?” Oliver asked.

“Actually, that's a good question.” Lythia's voice became strangely quiet. “I didn't want to,” she said absently, “but you saw Alexy. Who tipped you off, anyway? Oh, wait…” Lythia rolled her eyes and walked away again. “Brotherhood. Got it. So, hey look, now you know that we have some things in common. But, Oliver, you know why villains usually tell their enemies everything, don't you?”

She bent down in the shadows on the far end of the boat. There was a scraping of metal. “It's mostly because we like to hear ourselves talk, but it's also because it's safe, telling our secrets to someone right before we slay them.” She turned back around, and marched toward them holding a large battle-ax. “Well, Oliver Nocturne…” Her eyes gleamed.

“Wait—” Oliver stammered.

“Dean!” Emalie shouted hoarsely. Dean only watched silently.

Lythia swung the ax with lethal force.

It passed within inches of Oliver's face, and sliced apart his chains before impaling in the planks of the deck.

“You are not my enemy,” Lythia finished. “And I'm not your villain.” She held out a hand to him.

Oliver couldn't hide the surprise on his face. He reached for Lythia's hand, and she helped him up.

Then promptly threw him off the boat. Oliver crashed into the water. He scrambled to the surface in time to see Emalie plunging in beside him.

Lythia leered down at them, dramatically wiping her hands clean. “You may not be my enemy, but you are a nuisance. And this whole thing with you and humans…
ick
. So hear this, Nocturne and Nocturne's blood bag: I don't care what you do. Leave town, go to the Darkling Ball together for all I care, but when the time for the Anointment comes, stay out of my way.” She rummaged into her pocket and produced a tiny, red stone box. Oliver knew it all too well. “Stay out of my way, and your brother won't have been torched in vain,” she said, waving the box containing Bane's ashes. “Come along, minions.”

Lythia collapsed into a plume of smoke and snaked up into the night. Dean turned and followed the other zombies off the boat without so much as a glance at his soaked friends. They ran down the dock and across the parking lot, disappearing into the dark.

Oliver and Emalie swam to the boat's ladder, dragging themselves out of the frigid water. “Come on,” said Oliver, seeing Emalie shivering in the cool ocean breeze. He tore open the door to the boat's cabin. He searched in the dark, through the cramped bedroom, finally finding a set of thick towels.

He turned and bumped right into Emalie. There was barely any room in the narrow space. Their eyes locked again, in that terrifying way that they had during basketball. Oliver had that feeling once again of being weightless in his own head, but he managed to turn his gaze away. He wrapped a heavy towel around her, rubbing her arms a few times for warmth.

“Thanks,” said Emalie quietly.

“Mmm,” Oliver replied. He tried to slip past her, but she grabbed his arm.

“Sit.” He did. Emalie sat on the bed beside him, another shiver overwhelming her. “I want to dry off a bit. Let's go to the tree house.”

“Okay,” said Oliver.

They sank downward, until the foggy treetop appeared. It was nearing dawn now. The rim of gray sky was edged with pink. More birds called. The fire had died down to gray embers.

“Hey, guys.” They both turned to find Dean sitting there. “What took you so long?”

“Dean,” said Emalie in relief, “but your necklace…”

“Yeah, I know, bummer.” Dean frowned. “But this place is beyond Lythia's reach. I must still be my own person, at least a little bit, when she's controlling me.”

Oliver smiled, relieved. And then he understood more. “Wait, does this mean…”

Dean grinned. “Yep. I can tell you what Lythia is up to.”

“I believe her,” Emalie said quietly.

“Lythia?” Oliver asked. “Yeah, well, me, too. I don't know what to make of it.”

“She's going to try to save her brother,” said Emalie. “But you don't think she wants to undo the prophecy, do you?”

“No,” Oliver agreed. “I think she wants to get Anointed in her brother's place.”

“But she's got a demon already,” said Emalie. “The prophecy says it has to be a demonless vampire.”

“Maybe she has a way to remove her demon,” Dean mused.

“Can that be done?” Emalie asked.

“I've never heard of it,” said Oliver, “but, anything's possible if she has Désirée's help.” Something else occurred to him. “That's why she needed Bane's ashes.”

“What would those do?”

“Well, Bane's ashes would still have his specific force signatures. He and I, and Alexy, had to be created a certain way to exist without demons in us, even though we were sired. Lythia would need to alter herself in the same way. Having Bane's ashes would be like having the code to that.”

“And Désirée could make that happen,” Emalie added. “Lythia gets Anointed in Alexy's place, and then she'd be the vampire to open the Gate.”

“And if she gets Anointed,” Oliver continued, “the prophecy can't be undone.”

“But even if Dean knows where she is, how are we going to stop her? We can't slay her.”

“Yeah, please don't,” said Dean, as slaying Lythia would also destroy her minions.

“And we can't just stop Lythia,” said Emalie, “'cause then Alexy could still be Anointed. Or you.”

“So we need to stop the Anointment altogether,” said Dean.

“But how?” Oliver wondered. “Vyette is gonna have big power, and Half-Light will be there with their Pyreth Guardians. We can't go up against them.”

Emalie sighed. “You know who would know…”

Oliver nodded. “The Brotherhood. Braiden said to get in touch.”

“And we still don't think that's a bad idea?” asked Dean.

“Who knows,” said Oliver, “but they want to keep the Gate closed, and so do we.”

“How do we get in touch with him?” Emalie asked.

“I think there's only one way,” said Oliver. “Dean, we'll be back.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I'll just be here, and serving my master,” he said with a frown.

Oliver and Emalie returned to the world and left the boat and the docks, Emalie still shivering. They found a pay phone by a locked-up snack bar.

Emalie dialed 9-1-1, then spoke in a low, throaty voice. “Detective Nick Pederson, please.” She flashed a quick grin at Oliver. “Hi, Detective, this is Pauline, assistant to Emalie Watkins and Oliver Nocturne, the vampire,” she said, like she was making an important business call. Sometimes Oliver couldn't believe her nerve. “Mmmhmm, right…”

She cupped the receiver. “He said he was expecting us. He's such a grouch.” She spoke back into the phone. “Well, I sure
hope
you're tracing this call.… Your friend Braiden told my people to be in touch. We'd like to arrange a meeting immediately.… Mmmhmm, Ballard locks? Excellent. Thanks for your help as always!” She hung up, and Oliver heard Nick Pederson still talking as she did so.

“You're crazy,” said Oliver.

“Just having a little fun before the world ends,” said Emalie. “Come on.”

Oliver and Emalie made their way along a metal walkway, crossing a long canyon of black water. Here and there, a salmon jumped.

There were two locks, cavernous concrete halls whose water level would rise or fall to move ships between the Seattle lakes and Puget Sound. They crossed over the locks, then onto another catwalk that paralleled an old dam. White tubes stuck out of the old concrete. Water shot from them, chutes for young salmon returning to the sea.

Braiden stood in the middle of the walkway. Oliver and Emalie approached invisibly, then popped into sight. Oliver peered toward the far shoreline suspiciously.

“Don't worry,” said Braiden. “We have binoculars trained on you, but no stakes. So, I take it you saw the LeRoux boy.”

“Yeah,” said Oliver, annoyed by Braiden's smug tone.

“And now we need to stop the Anointment,” Emalie added.

“That's not going to make Half-Light very happy,” said Braiden. “Miss Lythia, either.”

“Can you help us or not?” Oliver snapped.

Braiden smiled. “Of course I can. What did you have in mind?”

Oliver and Emalie had talked about it on the way. “We'll be no match for Vyette,” said Oliver, “so our only chance is to destroy the Artifact before she's summoned.”

“That was our assessment as well,” said Braiden. “Well done, team Oliver.” Braiden held out a thin, golden tube, the size of a large Magic Marker. Something rattled inside it. “This is a kunai scorpion. It can be controlled with a basic behavior enchantment. Should be no sweat for an Orani. And it will destroy the Artifact. But tell me this: How are you going to get to the Artifact? Half-Light has it under tight security until the Anointment.”

“That's simple,” said Emalie confidently. “We'll be going to the Anointment. We have it all figured out.”

We do?
Oliver thought to her. This was news to him.

“Well, then I guess ‘good luck' is in order,” said Braiden. “You'll need it.” He turned to leave and paused. “You're impressive, both of you. I hope you succeed.” He shrugged. “Mostly because I want to live.” And then he disappeared into the dark.