Reckoning (Book II, The Arotas Trilogy) Read online

  A fluttering, like a host of angel’s wings, begins in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

  “Vladimir keeps you close, but out of the loop. Fane has remained alive all this time, despite his obvious affections for you. Gabriel is bonded to you and we still do not understand why. The monks spared your life, when it would have been easier to kill you. Are you connecting the dots? Because I sure the heck am!”

  She shakes her head, struggling to process it all. Nicolae takes a hesitant step forward. “No one agrees with me,” he whispers, darting a glance toward the empty hall, “but I think the connection between you and Gabriel means something. Whatever he is…together, you are the key.”

  Nicolae yelps as Roseline snatches his hand. Color escapes from her face as her lips peel back, eyes flaming. “What do you know?”

  “Not much,” he admits, grimacing at the pain radiating from his mangled fingers. “Sorin never let me into the meetings, but I’ve eavesdropped from time to time.”

  “He has been looking for Gabriel for many years. From what I gather, so was Vladimir.” He pauses, risking another glance at the empty doorway. “There is a prophecy-”

  Roseline releases his hand. He clutches it to his chest. “The cross tattoo,” she whispers.

  Although she and Gabriel had scoured the internet and ancient books, in search of the origin of his tattoo, they found nothing, but she would stake her life on the fact that the monks know exactly where that tattoo came from.

  “Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, “when I told Sorin about Gabriel, he got very excited. I didn’t think much of it at the time-”

  Roseline catches on to the end of his thought. “And now the monks have taken him.”

  He nods. “Whatever Gabriel is, he is important, to a lot of people.”

  “Vladimir was in the same room with him and didn’t even know it.” She feels faint with relief, but another thought strikes her. “I bet he will figure it out once he discovers Gabriel has been taken and I’m trailing after him.”

  Her heart jumps into her throat. “Oh, god. I changed him, Nicolae. Does that mean he is expendable now?”

  “No, I don’t think so. If he weren’t still valuable, the monks would’ve killed him in the dungeon.”

  Hope flickers to life. She might still have a chance to find him. If he is still alive…

  “I have to find him,” she declares, snatching her bag from the bed and looping it over her shoulder.

  Nicolae straightens, puffing out his chest. “Not alone.”

  Chapter 5

  Snow drifts from the early morning sky, twirling in the headlights as the black Hummer slithers along the icy road. Roseline grips the steering wheel with more force than is necessary for the conditions.

  The weather deteriorated not long after leaving Romania. Sheets of ice cover the landscape. The winter storm may have discouraged normal travelers, but Roseline refuses to allow a little snow stop her.

  Throwing the vehicle into its high-range lock, Roseline surges ahead. The engine purrs as she inches the speedometer higher, but as the miles slip past, her mind begins to dwell on Gabriel.

  Where is he? Is he safe? Has he escaped?

  In an effort to distract herself from obsessing over the unknown, she cranks up the radio. After several minutes, she realizes it is not going to help.

  A loud snore from the passenger seat brings forth another irritated sigh. For over an hour, Roseline has berated herself for allowing Nicolae to join her. What was she thinking?

  His earlier words continue to haunt her. They are the reason she was swayed so easily.

  Peace. Is such a thing truly possible? Even though she has often considered the idea, she never dreamed it to be a valid prospect. Hundreds of years of hatred and conflict cannot easily be swept under a rug, but things have changed. Sorin’s obsession to rid the world of immortals died with him. Perhaps Nicolae could ignite a small enough ember to spark a change.

  There is no doubt Nicolae’s new regime will be met with strong opposition. Leader or not, he can still be overthrown and a mutiny among the ranks might just give Vladimir the upper hand.

  What is her husband playing at? A global army? For what purpose?

  Roseline relaxes her stiff posture and rolls her neck to release some of the tension. Too many questions remain unanswered. She must find Fane. If anyone knows what is going on, it will be him.

  Her destination: London. A place filled with blissful memories- of peaceful walks along the Thames with Fane and afternoons spent lounging at outdoor cafes. Stolen moments untainted by the bloodshed all around, but London holds its fair share of seedy encounters as well.

  Nicolae stirs and stretches his long legs to find comfort in the confined space. His pillow slides down the window as he shifts. “Where are we?”

  “About ten hours from Paris,” she informs him.

  He bolts upright, staring at the unfamiliar scenery whizzing past their headlights. He rubs his eyes with his fists, blinking rapidly as he tries to focus on the clock glowing on the center console. “What time is it?”

  Roseline glances over at him. Tufts of hair stick out all over his head, the right side splayed like peacock feathers where he had leaned against the pillow. “The question you should be asking is what day is it.”

  He groans, stretching his arms back over the seat. His fingertips walk along the ceiling. “I can’t believe you drove straight through. Don’t you need to sleep?”

  “Not now. I will once I have found Gabriel.” How long can she function without sleep? Two days? A week? The longest she has ever managed at a single time was five days. Even if she wanted to sleep now, her dreams would be plagued with nightmares.

  “I need you in top form when we arrive so I let you rest,” she says are she turns off the radio. “Sounds like the weather should clear a bit once we reach London.”

  Nicolae arches his back and yawns loudly. Despite having the heater blasting at a balmy eighty-five degrees and his seat warmer on, he still snuggles deep into his blanket.

  “I bought you a coffee.” She lifts the steaming cup and holds it out to him. He accepts it, cupping it tightly in his hands. Roseline rolls her eyes, shifting to press her bare arm against the chilly window. She inwardly sighs, soaking in the soothing cold.

  Nicolae eagerly sips at the scalding liquid, grimacing as it slides down his gullet, burning a fiery path. “Thanks,” he chokes.

  She reaches for the temperature gauge, lowering it slightly on her side. “Kinda hot for you, huh?” Nicolae muses.

  “A bit,” she admits, glancing longingly at the small flakes crystalizing on her windshield before the heater melts them away. She checks the clock. 6:27 am. They are making good time.

  “So…” he draws out, circling his finger around the edge of the lid, “did you say goodbye to Sadie before we left?”

  The steering wheel creaks in protest of her sudden grip. White knuckles twist over the leather, marring the smooth surface. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Must we do this?” She would gladly take his snoring over digging through this subject.

  Nicolae’s body sags in his seat. His head rolls toward the window, his breath fogging the view. “It’s a long ride.”

  Awkward silence hangs over them. Roseline sighs. “No, I didn’t say goodbye. She would only get upset again. I thought it would be easier this way.”

  Nicolae shifts in his seat, staring at her profile, lit by the glowing green dash. “She cares about you, you know.”

  “I do.” Her shoulders hunch over. She stares blankly at the road ahead. Without meaning to, Sadie leapt into Roseline’s life, filling a void of friendship, of sisterhood.

  Just when she had begun to feel whole again- as if it were possible to piece her shattered life back together- Roseline is left broken and alone. Cursed. Damned to an eternity without friendship.

  She cannot let her selfish desires put Sadie at risk again. She should never have been so weak in the first place
. William is right. People die when they are around her. “It’s better this way.”

  “Hmm,” Nicolae murmurs, tilting away to place his arm against the window heater. His chin rests in his hand. “Is that what you will tell yourself to deal with the guilt?”

  Roseline whips her head around. “I thought you of all people would be happy that I’m out of her life.”

  “You would think that, wouldn’t you?” He mutters.

  She fumbles with a response. Her mouth parts several times to speak, but in the end, she has nothing to say. Miles of shadowy road dashes past before she can form her words. “I don’t get you.”

  Nicolae laughs. “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

  “It’s not a compliment.”

  His smile falters. “I imagine not.”

  “So explain it to me. Tell me about yourself. Your family.”

  His expression closes off and the muscles in his arms go rigid. “What about them?”

  “I don’t know. Tell me something. Anything. If we are going to work together, I need to know something about you.”

  “Fair enough.” Nicolae crosses his legs at his ankles and places his pillow behind his head. He gulps a mouthful of coffee.

  “I’m not sure how helpful this will be. I was pretty young when they died.” There is a definitive bite to the last word. Roseline rubs the back of her neck. Perhaps this is not the best topic to discuss either. Before she can retract her question, Nicolae begins. His voice sounds distant as he loses himself to the memory.

  “My mother’s name was Afina. She had the best singing voice in the village. I always imagined her like Snow White. You know that fairy tale with the birds and forest animals that sing along with the princess?”

  Roseline dips her head, but is not certain that she does.

  “Well, that was Mom. Always singing while she worked. It didn’t matter if she was ironing or weeding her garden. She had the best smile, too.” A warmhearted smile stretches across his face, presumably mirroring the one dredged up in memory of his mother.

  Dawn’s first light breaks along the horizon, painting their path with pastel colors. Nicolae glances over his shoulder at the sun. “She loved mornings, too. My sisters took after her, but I always hated rising early.”

  Thoughts of her own sister’s sweet voice makes her ask, “What did she sing?”

  “Hymns mostly. Sometimes other songs that she made up. She heard music in everything.” Bitterness seeps into his voice, stealing away his smile. “I know now that she was naïve. She only saw the good, but darkness existed all the same.”

  Roseline glances over at him, noting his watery eyes. “And your father?”

  Swiping the moisture away, Nicolae straightens. “He was a tough man with a sharp tongue and a temper to match. He kept a belt near the front door that had my name engraved on it.”

  “Some said he could have been Sorin’s twin, despite seven years separating them. They certainly were an even match when it came to their obsession.”

  “He was a hunter.” Roseline has only a vague recollection of the man who must have been Nicolae’s father. Broad shoulders, glinting green eyes and a thirst for immortal blood to rival Sorin’s. She had only ever seen glimpses of him though. Her duties did not usually lie on the battlefield. Vladimir liked to keep her caged, locked in her turret of the castle.

  “Yes. Mom never knew though.” He moves swiftly on, as if running from his memories. “Catina and Dana were only a year apart, nearly inseparable from birth. They were only a few years older than I was, but mom let them go to the Halloween party in the village square the night they died.”

  Roseline thinks back, remembering the gleeful look on Vladimir’s face as he prepared for his revenge on the hunters as they gathered for the season’s festivities. Countless innocent lives were lost alongside Nicolae’s family that night, families of hunters from across the land. If she closed her eyes, she could still picture the parents pleading for the lives of their children.

  Nicolae’s smile turns wistful. “I would have given in to my sisters too, just to stop their nagging. They used to drive me crazy. Always blaming me for the silly things they did. One time they replaced mom’s chocolate cake batter with mud. I can still remember them cackling at the top of the stairs as dad lit into me.”

  Roseline chuckles. Didn't she do similar things to her baby sister when she was alive? A pang of remorse tugs at her heartstrings as she remembers it was Adela’s blood selected to transform her into an immortal on her wedding night. She sobers. “It is a terrible thing to lose one’s family.”

  Nicolae falls silent, trapped within a world of happy memories long since turned to bitter decay. The pain may have lessened over the years, but it lingers on.

  “Sorin tried to beat out my love for them. He told me that emotions, either good or bad, make you weak in battle. I learned not to think about my past. To let the dead keep the dead. I was only a young boy.”

  Her stomach twists. “Such a terrible lesson to teach a child.”

  “When it’s the only life you know…” Nicolae shrugs. Both fall silent, pondering how different their lives could have been if the immortal world had remained in shadow. So much had been lost because of Vladimir’s ruthless desire for conquest.

  Perhaps now his thirst for death has spilled over into something more. Maybe he is no longer satisfied to remain in hiding. Is that the purpose behind the global army? To bring the immortal world into the light?

  Death may break people apart but a quest for revenge can bind them together. Roseline realizes Nicolae’s plight is not all that different from her own.

  “I suppose we both have a debt to settle with Vladimir,” she says.

  Thoughts of all that she has loved and lost resurface. Life, as unbearable as it may be, moves steadily on, but she will never forget. She will never forgive.

  Chapter 6

  Gabriel curls into the fetal position on the scratchy brown wool blanket that drapes the metal frame of his cot. His arms clamp around his head as the pain settles behind his eyes, blinding him.

  “Not again,” he groans. His teeth pierce through his lower lip as searing light rips through his mind. His howl rattles the reinforced walls. The thick wooden door to his right rattles on large steel hinges, dust filters from the wooden slates that cover the rock ceiling overhead.

  The top of his skull cracks under the pressure. Shifting. Mending. The bridge of his nose raises half an inch as his cheekbones rotate back. His hairline rises slightly as his ears shift into their proper position. Perfection.

  Gabriel lurches to the side, vomiting onto the floor. The expanding filth seeps into the cracks of the floorboards under his tiny bed. The rancid scent burns his nostrils, contaminating the stale air that hangs heavy in the small space.

  His windowless room offers only a sliver of fresh air that manages to seep in from under the wooden door. He sucks in steadying breaths, grimacing at the foul taste lingering in my mouth and the acid that burns his throat.

  The pain begins to recede, if only for the moment. Gabriel falls back onto his cot, his sweat clinging to him like a second skin. His chest heaves as he slumps, exhausted. The pillow is flat, lacking of any real softness of stuffing but he doesn’t care.

  “What is happening to me?” he shouts. No answer. Just like the last time and the forty before that, but he knows he is being watched. He can hear them out there, talking and laughing. He resists their attempts to drive him mad. Rose would want him to be strong.

  Rose, his mind screams. His chest constricts at the thought of her. Where is she? Is she alright? Was she kidnapped too?

  A growl rises in his chest at the thought of anyone touching her. Rage as he has never known before curls in his gut. His hands flex, begging to be free of this debilitating pain, aching for revenge.

  He would gladly seek it from among any of the six heartbeats that live in the space beyond his cage, but he is weakening. His strength wanes with each ro
und of transformations. Only when the birth pains build does he have the strength to bend the edges of his metal cot.

  Instinctively, he knows that blood will heal him. It’s not his brain speaking to him, but the very cells of his body. He knows he should be repulsed by the thought…but he isn’t.

  Gabriel glares at the small packet of blood left for him in the corner. Shadows and spider webs cling to the base of the table, betraying its age and disuse. His stomach growls, craving the blood like a junkie searching for his next fix, but he resists.

  “No,” he shouts to the voices beyond, “you can’t make me drink it!” He refuses to give them the satisfaction.