The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) (2 page)

“Miss?” Liam leaned down to catch her eye. “Are you alright?”

I killed Henry. Will anything ever be alright now that I’m a murderer? Does Krieger truly forgive me for the death of his brother? Will I ever forgive myself? No, I don’t think I am alright
.

“Fine, I’m fine,” Lily said.

Liam gave her a crooked grin and lifted up his shirt to show her the scar. “Impressive, isn’t it? Baby says it makes me look dangerous.”

She knew he knew that she’d just lied. Instead of calling her on it he was trying to make her laugh, which she did and started to ask about this
Baby
, when what sounded like a wet hand slapping flesh interrupted her reply. Liam placed his finger to his lips and disappeared down the far row of bookshelves. She followed his progress by the lights turning on as he activated the sensors.

He came back cradling what looked like a journal in his large hands. It was bound in leather with a faded black ribbon tied around the covers.

“Fell, I guess.”

Lily knew it couldn’t have fallen on its own. And why didn’t the lights come on when it moved? She took the offered book from Liam and rubbed her hand over the old leather. Someone had taken great care to keep it oiled and the leather supple as sin. For now, its contents were silent. Not all texts spoke with her – perhaps this one would later, or never would.

“Ready?” Liam opened the door and waited for her to follow.

Her mind said no, definitely not ready to see Krieger, but her heart beat faster, and she remembered his cool, calm voice, and how she loved the ambiguous color of his hypnotic blue-grey eyes. The night before Lily’s mother was discovered and she’d fatally stabbed Henry, Lily had argued with Krieger. From this vantage, Lily could see how trivial her protestations were. She’d felt he’d betrayed her, though he hadn’t, and because of her, Krieger had staunched the flow of blood through the bond they shared. Now, just a hint of warmth was flowing through her body, that feeling of being connected to him again, that tiny bit of delicious balm soothing her worries.

“Should you be taking that?” Liam indicated the book in her hands. “Mathers’ knickers will be in a twist if he catches you with it.” He chuckled at his own words.

She ignored his warning and slipped through the doorway, turning back to watch until the entrance was securely closed and the guards positioned. Once before when leaving the archives she’d heard just a wisp of a voice, so quiet she couldn’t decipher what it was trying to say.

“Miss.” Liam shifted his weight foot to foot.

She held up her hand for him to be quiet and give her a moment. There, she heard it again, definitely a text speaking. Why wasn’t it in the archive? Why couldn’t she locate it? Why was its voice muffled like it had been purposely hidden from her?

“Liam, does Mathers have any of the texts secured elsewhere?”

“No, the king has ordered that everything be at your disposal.” He glanced at the book she held in her hand. “And secured within the archives.”

She reached out again, but the connection was gone. I will find you, she thought, and walked with Liam to see the king.

Krieger

Krieger’s longsword bashed against Lucien’s. The two warriors’ razor sharp blades gleamed under the training room lights. He’d fought with Lucien throughout the ages on countless battlefields until he knew Lucien’s moves almost as well as his own.

“You’ve found nothing about the gates.” Krieger recovered and lunged again.

Lucien whirled and countered his strike. “Did you expect me to?”

He’d anticipated Lucien’s move and arced his swing downward, slamming Lucien’s sword into the mat. “I expect results.” It had been too many months since he’d sparred with his slayer.

“Results.” Lucien went into a crouch, circling him. “Merlin is holed up praying to almighty Hades, or whoever he looks to for answers.”

“Bleheris.” Krieger lunged forward, but Lucien was too quick, and he had to retreat. “He was the Merlin before.”

“I’ve seen the price of dark magic, the marks. They move as never before on Merlin.” A section of Lucien’s dark hair escaped the leather strap, he tried jerking his head to the side, but it remained in his eyes.

“You need to cut that mangy mop of yours,” Krieger taunted. “Merlin has the darkness under control.”

“And what if you’re wrong? What if he is lost to it?”

Krieger circled and waited for an opening. When Lucien used his bicep to brush the hair away from his eyes Krieger made his move and slammed the flat of the blade against Lucien’s shoulder. “Getting slow in your old age,” he goaded.

Lucien kept his two-handed grip and rolled his shoulder. “Not bad.” He stood tall and whirled the long blade through figure eights. “I spoke to Hunter. He’s found nothing.”

Krieger wasn’t fooled by Lucien’s sudden ease. Instead, when Lucien’s left flank was unguarded he jabbed.

“Tsk, tsk.” Lucien jumped back. “Lily–”

“What about Lily?” Krieger lifted and rotated clockwise, bringing his sword down full force a split second after Lucien raised his.

“Is this swordplay or blood play?” Lucien stepped back, out of the fighting circle. “Lily rarely comes out of the archives. She’s desperate to find anything regarding the gates.”

Krieger knew that was only partly true. She was also avoiding him. He rolled his shoulder and switched fighting hands. “You two are friends,” he sneered, and went back into fighting position. “Don’t hold back.” 

Krieger’s blade connected with Lucien’s chest, opening a crimson line down to his waist. Lucien regrouped and retaliated with a slash down his arm. After minutes of sword play the mat was slick with their blood.

“You want results for something that does not exist.” Lucien slipped, regained his footing, and waited for Krieger’s next move. “Henry was a fool who told a fool’s tale.”

“Agreed, yet he spoke his truth. The revenant was not a lie. The Brotherhood exists. Their heads will decorate spikes before we’re done. Are you willing to risk Lily’s life because we are bullheaded?” He caught Lucien’s side undefended and slipped the sharp end of the blade between his ribs.

Lucien barely reacted to the jab. “The Brotherhood…” He circled around. “They are our true enemy.”

Krieger thrust, connected. “Agreed.”

Lucien slumped, holding his bleeding side. “If you want to continue this exercise, I’ll need to feed.”

Krieger cleaned his blade with his fingers and flung the blood onto the floor. “Lily needs to feel she is useful while I keep her out of harm’s way. Let her believe our focus in on the gates. She can use the resources we have to learn their secrets, if there are any, and if they exist then we’ll find a way to seal them, and the threat, if there is one, will be eradicated.”

“And the Brotherhood?” Lucien tossed him a towel.

“They are flesh and blood.” Krieger glowered.

Lucien walked over to the rack where his dragon sword lay. “With this I can slaughter anyone, anything.” He reached for his sword, skillfully slashing with it through the air until the magical blade shimmered under the lights.

“And that you will.” Krieger smiled.

“What of Nina?” Lucien stilled. “The Brotherhood’s
gift
to us?”

“Merlin has her well in hand.”

“Does he now?” Lucien stepped through a few fighting movements with his sword.

It wasn’t Krieger’s call to make, not yet. For now, he would let Merlin decide if Nina was what she seemed, or the pawn of the Brotherhood. She’d literally appeared out of thin air one night, an unconscious young woman, savagely beaten and missing her tongue, lying next to the road that bordered the king’s mountain. Merlin had taken to her from the start. Krieger remembered how his advisor had put her in his bed, cared for her, protected her. One day soon they would get to the bottom of Nina’s story. Why she was marked with the upturned cross of the Brotherhood. Why all her memories had been wiped from mind. “I hear your concern, as I have heard the rumors.”

Graceful and effortless, Lucien continued to practice at half speed. “Are you taking Lily to the council meeting?” he asked.

“She’s safest with me.”

Lucien ceased his maneuvers, secured the dragon sword in its sheath, and accompanied Krieger out the vaulted entranceway of the training room. “Does she know?” Lucien read his sideways glance as they walked down the hallway. “I see. So you’re going to order her.”

“I’m going to encourage her to join us.” Krieger raked back his hair with his hands. “Right now she’s waiting in my office.” Krieger was coiled with energy since making the decision to summon her. If Lucien weren’t walking by his side, he’d fly to his office.

“She’s asked about you.”

“Has she?” Krieger’s heart constricted but before he could ask anything further they’d reached the hallway outside his office where Liam was waiting.

“Sire.” Liam bowed. “Lily is inside.”

“I’ll take my leave.” Lucien dipped his head and turned to go, stopped. “Treat her gently,” he said, and continued down the hall.

The guards opened the double doors, startling Lily, who was walking towards him.

“Oh.” She stumbled back. “I thought you weren’t coming.” Her eyes ran over his chest. “You’re bleeding.”

“You should see Lucien.” He didn’t like the immediate flash of concern in her eyes when he said his slayer’s name. “Only swordplay,” he explained.

Lily turned away from him and grasped the back of a chair. “You wanted to see me.”

This wasn’t going as he’d planned. He dipped down into the blood bond he shared with her. Something he’d not allowed of himself since that fateful night so many months ago. She was understandably nervous, but not afraid or angry, this was good.

Krieger had thought his desire for her would have burned out until it lay in cinders. He was wrong. Now with the bond flowing between them, he felt the keen-edged yearning for her more acutely than ever before. The ash of his desire was not dead, only dormant, and now leapt to life with the heat of an inferno. 

He had to remind himself of his agenda for this meeting. Charm her, regain her confidence, and ready her for the council meeting. He’d beguiled legions of women. Why did this one confound him so?

“Eat,” Krieger said, and motioned towards the food Mathers had prepared for her. The word sounded harsh, like an order and not a request. “Enjoy it while it’s hot.” She didn’t argue. That was something.

Lily tilted her head in such a way that her hair fell down between them like a curtain. As she sliced her steak he cleaned the blood from his chest and went to the small closet inside his office, choosing an oxford shirt with blue stripes. It reminded him of the night they’d spent in his underground quarters. How she’d worn a similar shirt of his.

Outside the wind howled and bent the old trees sideways as the front edge of a storm whipped over his mountain. He raked his hand through his hair. The last time she’d seen him it had been almost completely burnt off, and now it brushed the edges of his collar. Knowing Lily needed time to relax into his presence again, he watched her reflection in the window panes. When Lily came into his thoughts she was always bathed in firelight, just like tonight. The glow from the flames brought a blush to her pale skin. His eyes skimmed down her delicate neck and traveled over her shoulder. Her shirt was unbuttoned one too many and had fallen to the side.

Two parts of Krieger’s nature warred as to whether he should cover her or rip the shirt from her. He did neither. When she finished her meal and pushed her plate away he walked over, keeping the table between them as a buffer, knowing she needed the distance, and instead of looking into her eyes as he longed to do, he focused on the book tied round with a ribbon. She’d laid it next to her plate and periodically ran her hand over the leather like a beloved pet. “Merlin tells me the archives speak with you. What does that one have to say?”

Lily didn’t rush to respond. She lifted her wine glass, swirled the contents and took a long sip. With their blood bond opened, he could almost taste the wine she drank.

“Why did you ask me here?” she said finally.

Because it pains me to be away from you
. “I’m leaving Wednesday for the council meeting.”

“Did he…” Lily hesitated. Krieger waited. “Ask for me?”

“No, but it is inescapable.” He almost smiled as he caught himself using one of Merlin’s choice words. “You feel him, don’t you?” It sounded like an accusation. He softened his tone. “You must be curious about Grigori.”

“My mother called him Azazel.” Folding and placing the linen napkin carefully next to her plate, Lily rose and moved closer to the fire. She ran her hand along the carvings on the mantel, stopping when she came to a small portrait sitting alone at the end. “Though we don’t know that they are one and the same.”

Unguarded, now that her attention was diverted by the painting, he allowed himself the pleasure of tracing with his eyes the line of her neck that flowed into her back and down to her hips.

“Who is she?” Lily asked.

She’d turned towards him just enough that he could see his mark upon her neck. It gave him hope. For a time he’d feared she would ask Merlin to obscure it, but she had not. When he didn’t answer, she turned fully to hold his eyes, demanding a response.

“Catherine Ayres,” he answered, and scrutinized Lily’s face for a hint of what she might be thinking. Without the bond, Lily would be a complete mystery to him. She was small and fragile and looked almost as innocent as those ridiculous cherubs people sometimes associated with angels. And yet, she was emotionally strong and could guard her facial expressions better than most seasoned soldiers. Krieger knew she was interested in the small portrait of Catherine by the way her finger rested against the frame and the fluttering of a tiny crease line under her eye as she willed herself to meet his gaze.

Curious to see what she’d do, he languidly contemplated the portrait. He knew the image by heart, but nonetheless took his time taking in Catherine’s long brunette hair which cascaded over her shoulders like a bridal veil. Her lips were a little too large, as were her eyes, yet those hazel eyes burned with curiosity, intelligence, and a large dose of mischief. It was a portrait made to be viewed in private, and only by him, and he treasured it, because even vampires could find it hard to recall the face of a loved one gone so many centuries ago.