The Shadow's Son (The Witch Hunter Saga) Page 11

  "Yes. She was a part of the Coven until the Roman, Regulus turned her."

  Aya snorted. It all began to fit into place. Victoria was part of this Coven that had something powerful hidden away that they didn't know how to wake. These renegades had counted on her following the trail back to Salisbury so they could enlist her help in stopping them. It still didn't explain what Victoria was. What all the witches in this Coven claimed to be and why they needed her on side so much. The only way she could find out for sure was to meet this insider.

  "Can you get me a meeting with your insider?"

  "Yes, but it comes with it's risks."

  "Doesn't it always?" she rolled her eyes. There wasn't much left she hadn't seen when it came to backstabbing, double dealing and elaborate traps. "You witches and your cryptic messages. Why can't you just say what you mean and leave it at that."

  "We play dangerous games, Hunter. A little care works well for our kind."

  "And not one of you knows the entire story," she sighed.

  "In case one of us is taken."

  Deep below, sleeps a vicious sword, Beware ye who breaks the sleeping ward. God damn witches and their cryptic poetry. Now, she realized, it was obvious that the Coven was trying to find and wake up something powerful. In these situations, Aya had learnt that it was better to leave these things well alone. The Coven was playing with fire and someone would be burned.

  "So, all of this, it was just to enlist my help?"

  "Yes, we can't do this alone. There are others trying to uncover the Coven's secrets."

  Arturius and Regulus had been looking for something. Now, she knew what. Regulus had hoped to use Victoria somehow, but she had ended up hunting her and ruining Zac and Sam's lives. Something had gone wrong, but what?

  Joseph continued, "We want to find what they have and either destroy it or hide it away for eternity."

  "You don't even know what it is," she snorted.

  "No."

  "Then how do I know that you and your little friends won't take it and use it for yourselves?"

  "That you'll have to take on faith."

  "Faith," she hissed, "is of little consequence where power is concerned."

  "It's all I have."

  Aya regarded Joseph and found that he believed he was telling the truth. In the end, she would be there to make sure that all of them kept their word. "I will help you," she said. "But it comes with a price."

  "And what would you ask?"

  "No more lies, no more secrets. And if I see fit to kill you all along with the Coven, know that I won't hesitate." If Joseph knew even a quarter of her reputation, he knew that she made good on her threats every single time. She had nothing to fear from this rag tag group of renegades and they had everything to fear from her. After all, she could take their power with a single touch. For a witch being ordinary... that was worse than death.

  Tristan had been awfully quiet since they had left the museum. Aya regarded him as they walked back to the hotel as if she could read his mind. He was usually all for another witch hunt, but this time he was oddly shaken. Perhaps he had gotten more than he had bargained for? He'd only signed on for finding the truth behind Victoria's lineage, not infiltrating an entire coven of witches known for their extreme views.

  "Tristan," she said as he unlocked the door to their room.

  "What?"

  "You don't have to follow me, you know."

  He threw the room key onto the table inside the door and grinned. "It's always an adventure when you're around."

  "Unfortunately."

  "I'd follow you into the bowels of hell, Arrow. Figuratively speakin'," he said, running a hand over his face. "I just didn't count on having to actually go there."

  Aya smiled wryly, "Another hot day in hell, my friend."

  "I don't go back on my promises, you know."

  "I know. Chances are you won't have to lift a finger."

  "I'm not afraid of a fight," he said, offended. "I'm worried about what we'll find."

  Aya shrugged and turned to the mini-bar, pulling out an assortment of tiny liquor bottles. "Who knows, Tristan. Who knows. Probably all manner of beasts. Regulus has his fingers in this pie as well."

  "Then perhaps you can put him down at the same time."

  "Here's hoping." Before she could sit down with her miniature bottle of vodka, a white envelope shot under the door and came to rest in the middle of the entry way. Witches. With a frown, she was across the room, envelope in hand. Wrenching open the door, she scanned the long hallway, but found it to be empty. Stepping back inside, she tore the envelope open, letting the door close with a bang behind her.

  "What does it say?" Tristan asked over her shoulder like an excited child.

  "It's a party invitation."

  "I can see that. What does it say?"

  "Satan's Rout, a Halloween Ball in an abandoned picture palace," she read. "At The Coronet Theatre. Closest tube Waterloo or Elephant and Castle…. What the hell is this?"

  Tristan snatched the flyer from her and laughed, his earlier worries slipping away, "It's a theatre party. They have all of these wee rooms with different themes and people wander about in character. There's jazz bands and performances and people dress up." He took out his cell and begun to type something into it.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Lookin' up the place."

  "On a cell phone?" she asked like it was the most absurd thing she'd ever heard.

  "You really need one of these," he said waving his cell in front of her. "Very handy. Have you heard of a thing called the internet?"

  "Why would I want one? I've been doing all right without it, haven't I?"

  "It's the twenty first century, Arrow."

  "So?"

  "So, don't be such a technophobe."

  She looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. "Technology doesn't sit well with me." She snatched back the flyer and turned it over. "What kind of thing is this anyway? A theatre party, or whatever."

  "It's really an alternative Halloween Ball."

  Aya snorted. "Halloween?"

  "Yes, you know dressin' up and giving out sweets to children. Trick or treat? They're big on that in America aren't they?"

  "Why would anyone want to dress up as…" She turned over the flyer to the front, reading the costume suggestions. "Satanic whore mongers and naughty fallen angels."

  "I would expect all kinds of crazy stuff," he chuckled. "It is London after all."

  Aya sighed dramatically, "And that means nothing to me. Why would anyone want to celebrate Halloween by dressing up in costumes and eating sweets?"

  "You've never heard of Halloween?"

  "Halloween is a time when the veil between life and death is at it's thinnest. All I know about it is that it's more trouble than it's worth."

  Tristan gave her a confused look, but explained the whole costume and candy thing anyway. "You seriously don't know about modern Halloween?"

  Rolling her eyes, Aya said, "I was asleep for a hundred and fifty years, Tristan."

  "Really?" He seemed surprised.

  "Really."

  "Well," he laughed, scratching his head, "you missed some good stuff."

  "Like Halloween parties?"

  "I could think of better things," he winked. "Is there anythin' else in the envelope? A message or anythin'?"

  Aya picked it up, but it was empty. "Nothing. It's from our friend Joseph, it has his stink all over it. I assume I will know the woman when I see her. I have a sixth sense about these things, you know."

  "Yeah," he said. "Though it would be nice to have a little more information. I feel like we're goin' in blind."

  "Perhaps. But I don't need it for this."

  "What if Regulus knows about the half-breed woman? They could be lyin' in wait for us."

  "Chances are, he'll have some of his thugs there," she shrugged. "Could be a bit of fun."

  Tristan looked worried. "I worked with him for a long time, Arrow. If he
knows then he'll send the Six."

  "Let them come," she hissed. "It's about time I put them in the ground."

  Aya had met the vampires known as the Six on a few occasions. The last time she had been in Paris and they'd attempted to surround her in a crowd of humans come to watch the execution of the French Queen, Marie Antoinette. She remembered snapping Victoria's neck, before escaping. That was a few months before she set foot in America for the first time.

  The Six were Regulus' most trusted lackeys. Six of the most highly skilled vampires she'd known, assassins, spies, fighters, executioners, soldiers… they'd all been vile things when they were human and all of those traits and skills had carried over. He'd put them together almost five hundred years ago and not once had they come close to laying a finger on her, let alone capturing her. She was not afraid of them.

  They would go to this Halloween party and meet with the half-breed insider and find out the truth. Who she was and what she was. Then she would solve the mystery behind Zac's blood once and for all and confirm what she suspected was true. That they had something to do with the Celestines. Something she hoped to hell wasn't true, since Joseph had said they had turned to evil. That was the ultimate kick in the guts.

  She would find a way to infiltrate the Coven and find out what they were hiding. Then and only then, she would decide if they were to live or die.

  Either way, she was about to do a lot of killing. Vampires, witches, it didn't matter as long as someone’s blood was spilled.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Regulus kept a house in the highbrow neighborhood of Hampstead. It was more of a mansion, the outside resembled the exterior of a Roman temple, all columns and scroll work. Zac snorted at the irony. The Roman had an inflated sense of self, more so than Arturius.

  Zac pulled his new coat closer around him and walked up the front steps and rang the bell. Time to face the music and see what was going to happen next.

  He wasn't surprised when a human opened the door and looked him up and down with a sigh. He was an elderly man, perhaps about seventy human years, grey hair and a crooked back. He was obviously the legal owner of the house, even though it belonged to the Roman.

  "Another vampire," the man said with distaste. "You must be Zachary."

  Zac raised an eyebrow at the old man and nodded.

  "Well, you better come in. He's expecting you." Once he'd received the invitation, Zac was free to step inside and the man closed the door behind him. Pointing up the staircase he said, "Up the stairs, third on the right. I don't escort vampires."

  Walking up the stairs Zac took in the finery with a detached air. Paintings hung along the walls that looked old and expensive, even the carpet underfoot felt like it was the best quality. Things came easily for someone who could compel their way to anything they wanted. That, and being two thousand years old and truly immortal had something to do with it.

  When he reached the third door on the right, he lifted a hand and rapped lightly on the door.

  "Come in," came Regulus' voice from inside the room.

  When Zac opened the door it revealed a cozy study, not unlike his father's back at the manor. The walls were lined with bookshelves with some very old looking books clogging every available space. The Roman sat in a dark brown leather chair beside an open fireplace, which someone had lit due to the cold snap outside. The small table beside him held a crystal decanter full of brown spirits and in one hand he held a matching glass that was almost empty. It was lavish and over the top, but he'd expected nothing less.

  "Don't hover by the door Zachary, it's rather annoying," he waved the young vampire into the room, gesturing to a matching armchair across from him. As Zac sat, Regulus raised an eyebrow expectantly.

  "Aeriaya is in London with the Irish knight," he said nonchalantly, using her full name.

  "Really?" The Roman was suddenly interested.

  "They've been spending quite a bit of time at the British Library."

  "The library? Can she be any more boring."

  "They've been attempting to find out where Victoria came from."

  Regulus couldn't hide his smirk. "She wants to know about your blood."

  "Yes." He wasn't surprised that he knew that secret.

  "Is there anything else?"

  "Victoria's family was a very old and powerful line of witches, but I suspect you already know this. Garrett seemed to think that they were hiding something that was sacred to them. Something very old and very powerful. He was very unsettled at the prospect of the Hunter finding it. I pressed him for more information, but he didn't know anything else. Everything he told me he believed to be the truth."

  "And what did you do to him?" The Roman looked at him expectantly.

  "I killed him."

  "How?" his eyes sparkled.

  "He had been telling lies," Zac said without emotion. "So, he lost his tongue. Then he suffered a cardiac arrest."

  Regulus was beyond pleased. "I hope you made it slow."

  "Extremely."

  The Roman was still for a few minutes, pondering the information that Zac had brought back. He didn't move from the chair, waiting to be dismissed, but Regulus wasn't finished. "It's curious how you used her full name. Until recently, she was just Aya to you. Did her betrayal cut that deep?"

  Zac stared at the Roman, his lip lifting slightly into a sneer.

  Regulus smiled, coking his head to the side. "You must forgive me for not thanking you before now, but I had to be sure." He handed the young vampire a glass of what appeared to be an expensive Irish whisky. "You helped free me from that insufferable witch. She had us all ensnared from the moment she turned us. That was the part she so conveniently left out of her bargain. There wasn't much we could do without her say so. Now I am free to do all those things myself and not rely on incompetent fools to do them for me." He looked at Zac with a note of regret. "I could have done with you a hundred and forty years ago, Zachary."

  He didn't say a word, instead choosing to gaze into the fire rather than be sucked in too deeply by Regulus' silver tongue. One day he would have an opportunity for revenge and he wouldn't hesitate when that time came. Suddenly thinking of Tristan, he asked, "Why did you send Tristan to warn her?"

  Regulus narrowed his eyes. "You ask a lot of questions, Zachary."

  "Is he still working for you?"

  "I knew the moment I sent Tristan away that he would deliver my message and promptly switch sides. I am not a fool."

  "You did it deliberately," Zac mused to himself.

  "Aeriaya needed to be smoked out of her fox hole and it worked. She's here doing my work for me. She can go places I cannot."

  Zac knew better than to keep asking questions and clamped his mouth shut. Aya was looking for something the Roman wanted and that meant it had to do with this mysterious Coven Garrett had told him about. Whatever Regulus was looking for, so was Aya.

  "Come, I have some people you need to meet," Regulus gestured for him to follow as he stood and walked into the hallway. "They all know you had a hand in the death of my brothers. That has instilled enough misguided respect for them to follow you regardless." Regulus turned and stared at Zac, his eyes burning. "Don't misinterpret my intentions, Zachary. I haven't forgiven you for your part in that. You are merely a means to an end, my friend."

  "Likewise," he murmured in return.

  He smirked knowingly and descended the stairs, leading him to a sitting room, that was as lavish as the study had been. There were more vampires in the house, he could sense their presence and guessed there were six in the room they approached. The human butler who had opened the front door earlier was hovering in the direction of the kitchen within hearing distance, but no one seemed bothered by it.

  The six vampires looked up as Regulus walked into the room and glanced at Zac with curiosity. They were all dressed in dark clothing like they were a bunch of thugs waiting for their next order. Which was exactly what they were. Five males and one female.

  "K
new it," one of the men muttered, looking Zac up and down.

  "Knew that he'd show up?" one of the others asked.

  "Of course," Regulus interrupted. "After watching him play with his food, where else would he go but to where he belongs?"

  Zac was still struggling with that one, so he said nothing, which was the best thing he could have done. The six vampires were looking at him with a mixed sense of awe and apprehension. After all, he'd had a hand in killing two founders and the witch that created them. Not to mention Alistair, who they probably would have at least known of. He was three hundred years older and a lot stronger. By rights he should have been the one who was staked.

  "They call this lot the Six," Regulus said, breaking him out of his reverie and walking across the room. Pointing to the first vampire who sat in the leather armchair, he said, "This one is Nye."

  The man nodded with a wry smile, his messy brown hair falling in his eyes. He didn't look a day over twenty-five. Regulus was still speaking, talking for him, "He's an old bastard, but he's a follower. He'd follow you to the end and rape and pillage along the way if that's what you asked him to do. Ironically, he does have a sense of honor that we haven't seemed to get rid of."

  Nye shrugged as if to say, whatever. Zac couldn't help but notice the ugly scar that marred the vampire's face and wondered how he got it. It had to be something he had gotten when he was human. That would have healed within minutes otherwise. The scar began from his left temple, across his left eye and the bridge of his nose, ending in a deep red gash across his right cheekbone. Nye was lucky he kept his eye, but it was more to do with sheer luck or maybe his opponents lack of skill. Either way, he still had both of them.

  Regulus moved onto the next vampire, who was a tall, broad shouldered hulk of a man. "Rixum, the bald headed buffoon is nothing but a grunt." He slapped him on the back of the head. "He's the bodyguard. The vampire shield." The vampire nodded his head at Zac, not taking his eyes off him.

  "This one," he pointed to a wiry man, who was rather plain to look at, "is Maddox. His claim to fame is that he's an assassin. Sneaky little bastard who will gut you in your sleep."