The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter) (28 page)

BOOK: The Last Guardian Rises (The Last Keeper's Daughter)
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Krieger kicked a book out of his way. He’d always hated Merlin’s sloppiness. Would Hunter retain his neatness? This situation was as new to him as it was to Hunter. He needed Merlin with all his faculties, his old friend whose loyalty and guidance and friendship had been a constant source of strength for him.

“Krieger?” Lily’s voice called out.

He was out the door and at the bottom of the tower before she could call again. “How did you know I was here?”

“I asked,” she said.

“Sire,” Liam said as he bowed, low, “We are under orders—”

“Yes, absolutely. Leave us.” The vantors had failed to protect Lily adequately and their place at court was another thorny issue he needed to decide. “Wait. Have one of your pack track Hunter. See that he does no harm to himself and keep me apprised of his whereabouts.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Do not fail me,” Krieger warned.

“Why so stern?” Lily asked, watching Liam stride towards the castle. “We bumped into Hunter on the way over. Is he okay?” She took his hand and started to lead him back towards the main entrance.

“Hunter will be fine. And shouldn’t I be stern after the stunt you pulled?”

“Oh.” She blushed. “We already talked about that. I said I was sorry. I promised to never do it again.”

Such a child to believe her actions could so easily be brushed aside by an apology and that there would be no ramifications. What would she say if she knew how the vantors were punished for her actions? That she loathed him. Never wanted to see him again. That he was a monster. Yes, he could imagine her saying all those things and worse. Which was why he hadn’t told her.

“Am I being abducted?” he finally asked.

“Hmm, that’s a possibility.” She blinked up at him, flirting. “A consort is allowed to do that, right?”

Krieger felt pride that she accepted the new title and meant to keep it that way. “I should make that a law.”

“Yes.” She tugged on his arm, wanting him to go faster.

“Where are we going?”

“To my mother’s grave. I want to talk.”

Not what he’d hoped to hear, but after the events of tonight, it would do.

“Will I be queen?” she asked.

“Is this what you wanted to talk about?” She didn’t respond. “You are my queen.”

“That’s not what I mean. After we’re married.” She held her hand in front of her, admiring the ring. “Vampires don’t marry, do they?”

“Not generally.”

“You’re just humoring me with a wedding?”

“I want you to be happy.”  She was angling towards something.

“Grigori is a king.”

“True. Has the thirst for power begun so soon?”

“Don’t be silly. Should I change my name to Lily Consuelo Ayres Barnes? It has a nice ring to it.”

He swept her up in his arms, noticing a group of Others watching them. “Let me take you.”

“No.” She pushed against his chest and he let her slip through his arms. “Let’s take a car. We haven’t gone driving in a while.”

They didn’t say much on the ride over or the walk up the hill. Lily was thinking, plotting something. He could tell by the line of her jaw and the tiny worry lines across her forehead.

Marissa Ayres wasn’t buried in the family cemetery, but next to the statue of Diana that dominated a hill in front of what had been Waverly house. Now the plateaued area where the house once stood looked like a giant place setting.

“Are you going to rebuild?” he asked.

“Yes. It would be nice to have a place just for us and our family. I love Stoke but I’m tired of feeling like I’m living in a fishbowl. What do you think?”

She’d always said Stoke was her refuge. Now it was stifling. And she’d said ‘our family’. Both were interesting and disturbing developments.

She placed a bouquet of peach roses tied together with a black ribbon on the grave marker. “Martha said they were my mother’s favorite color. I wish her portrait had survived the fire.” Lily sat down on the marble bench she’d had placed here. “I have nothing to remember her by now, no memories, no pictures, nothing.”

Krieger slipped his arm over her shoulders and sat next to her. “Do you still dream of her?”

“No, not since… No.”

“Nor Grigori or the dragon?”

“I don’t think it was Grigori, not after meeting him. I felt no recognition, nothing from him.”

“But you said he looked like Grigori.”

“He did, does, sort of, but not exactly. There is a resemblance, but it’s not him.”

She said it with conviction, and he had no reason to doubt her. “The dragon,” he pressed.

She shook her head. “Lucien should be here, not exiled.”

“He’s not exiled,” he whispered into her neck. He kissed his mark on her neck and  scraped his fangs against the vein.

“Yes,” she whispered, as he drank from her.

Krieger savored every drop until he reluctantly pulled away to kiss the soft rise of her breast and was rewarded with another sigh.

“I can’t think when you do that,” she said.

“Don’t think, then. You think entirely too much.”

“Not here.” She looked at her mother’s grave.

“Trust me, the dead are past caring.”

“Perhaps.” She leaned back from him. “Perhaps not.”

“I get the feeling you didn’t find me tonight to seduce me.”

“Well,” she said, smiling up at him. “I’d planned that for later.”

He rose and reached out for her hand, intent on whisking her away to Stoke.

Lily got up, but instead of walking into his arms, she went to the statue of Diana and pretended to admire the craftsmanship. “I called Lucien.”

“This is why you came to see me.”

“Partly.” She reached inside her coat pocket and pulled out a business card. “Here,” she thrust it towards him. “Take it.” She waited until he had it. “You know the man we went to see in London about the tablet.” He nodded. “Meirta came to see me. He called her and said that he had something she should look at.”

“I thought Lucien tranced the events from him.”

“See?” She tossed her hands up. “That’s why I called Lucien.”

“No, Apryini. You called Lucien because you wanted to speak with him.” Lily looked down at her feet. He lifted her chin with his finger to look into her eyes. “You miss him.”

“I love you, but I love him too. Not in the same way, but…” She looked down, thinking, and then back up into his eyes. “Lucien and I have a connection. You, though,” she said, pausing to kiss his lips, “are the only man I love with my body.”

Krieger had thought he was too old for the sharp searing pain of jealousy. The blood they shared allowed him to dip into her emotions, and he knew what she said was the truth as she saw it. If he became angry, the only person he would hurt would be her, and he couldn’t bear that.

“I know,” he replied. “So what did Lucien say?”

“He hadn’t tranced Meirta and Hunter’s first meeting from his mind. So…”

“It’s plausible,” Krieger finished. “This Dr. Toolley, where is he?”

“Meirta said he’s now in Philadelphia at the University of Pennsylvania Museum. They have a large collection of his grandfather’s there. He’ll be there for another week before he goes back home. I thought that Meirta and I could go.”

Absolutely not, he thought, and remembered Henry saying he’d chain her to his side.
No, I won’t ever be that way with her.
“He could be persuaded to come here.”

“He wouldn’t tell her what he wanted to show her, and he can’t bring it here. Plus she can’t understand the text. Liam could go with us.” Lily placed her hand on his chest, sliding her fingers underneath his shirt. “But we need someone who can trance the doctor.” She deftly unfastened the buttons down to his waist and kissed his chest. “Can you spare a few days to go with us?”

Krieger had witnessed great men ruined by a woman. How he’d laughed and called them weak. The Gods play games with us all, he thought.

He stilled her hands with his. “I’ll consult my schedule.” Lily would not be going, nor would he. “I thought you didn’t like to leave the archives. Have they revealed anything useful?”

Lily rubbed her cheek against his hand. “What they know is not what we need.” She kissed his hand and moved to gaze at the empty space where Waverly house had been. “I’ve been reading of the Strigoi. Did you know vampires descended from them?”

“One of the legends; there are many to explain why we are here.”

Lily was smoothing her hands over her skirt. One of her nervous gestures. “You think I’m Lynea.”

“The truth of things?”

She spun around to face him but kept her eyes downcast. “Yes.”

He leaned down to catch her gaze and stood while they held eye contact. “I didn’t believe it at first, but now, yes, I think that is precisely what you are.”

“There were four Strigoi who stood with the Elders during the Great War.”

“That is the legend.”

“And for every Strigoi there is a Lynea. Their union…”

“Created the vampire,” he completed her sentence. Where was she going with this?

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the symbol for Lynea was found on a tablet mentioning the guardians. Could it be the Strigoi were the guardians?” She continued on quickly before he could respond. “It would make sense. Four Strigoi… The four objects placed around the world.”

He’d already made the same connection. Would he be able to defeat a Strigoi? Perhaps, with an army of vampires.

“If it’s true, Anson will be looking for his Lynea, me.”

“We don’t know anything yet.” His hands enclosed her arms. “Nothing will take you from me.”

She winced, but didn’t fight him. “I know.” Lily reached up with her hand until he released her and then cupped his face. “I love you.”

If it were possible to trance Lily to get the truth out of her, he would. “And I love you.” What had she found and why wasn’t she telling him?

He lifted her into the night sky, ignoring her protests, carrying her back to his cabin and laying her out on the bed.

“I’m not done talking,” she protested.

“I am.” Flipping her onto her stomach, he ran his hand up the inside of her leg and under the fabric of her skirt. “What happened the last time you defied me?” She shivered where he touched. “Tell me.” 

Her voice was muffled by the pillow. “You showed me the error of my ways.”

His palm lightly connected with her backside.

She yelped and wiggled playfully.

She looked disappointed and rested on her elbows as he got up. “Where are you going?”

He rolled his shoulders out of the button-down oxford shirt. Her eyes did not shy away as he stepped out of his pants and stood before her as God had made him. How far they’d come since he’d first brought her here.

“I don’t want anyone to hear us,” she said. 

“They won’t,” he lied. “You’re wearing too much clothing.” His fingers struggled to free the small buttons of her blouse until in frustration he lifted it over her head.

“I’m cold,” she said, shivering against him.

He pulled the covers over them, hating that it wasn’t warm enough for her to lie bare under the roof of his cabin. In the summer I’ll bed her here, he thought, and slipped her out of her clothes, wrapping his body around her until her flesh was warm.

There was still a new lover’s shyness in her movements, but with each coupling he uncovered the secrets of her body. That she loved for him to kiss and nip lightly along her neck and the insides of her soft thighs. That her eyes would burn the most amazing shade of purple when she climaxed. That she liked to run her nails down his back and call him, ‘dominus’ while he made love to her, but had no recollection of uttering it when he asked later.

He thought all these things as he lavished her with kisses until she begged and pressed her hips up towards his. Being inside Lily was the most exquisite, torturous pleasure he’d ever experienced. It was as if Eros fashioned her just for him, only one size too small.

As he looked down to see her writhing underneath him, all heat and blood and tightness, he thought of the battles he’d fought and the centuries of killing, and yet the thought of hurting one hair on her head created a panic inside him.

“Please.” Lily’s eyes blazed. “Please, harder.”

He increased his rhythm and her hips rose up to meet his as never before. She was more aggressive, more insistent on precisely what she wanted – needed from him. How could he resist? How could he not satisfy her?

She surprised him with her vigor and like a ship taking on water he began to lose the tenuous hold he had on his control.

“Yes,” she urged. “Deeper.”

Krieger rested on his forearms, lowering more of his body onto hers, feeling her thighs stretch and widen around him.

“Oh god, Krieger,” she screamed. “Yes!”

He rested his forehead against hers, burying himself completely, feeling her sheath stretch around him, fitting him like only she could. Her fingers dug into his backside urging him forward. The sounds of their lovemaking and her quivering as she climaxed around him tipped him over the edge until the mountain echoed with her name off his lips as he released inside her.

 

Hunter / Merlin

“Dale?” A man relying heavily on his cane walked up the hill. “Is that you?”

Hunter wanted to be alone, that’s why he’d come here, just to be alone with his thoughts, if that was possible anymore. When he’d walked out of Merlin’s tower, it had been his intention to leave Stoke and never return, to turn his back on everything he now knew about the Other world. Halfway to the cottage he shared with Meirta, he realized there was no going back. He loved Meirta and his life. He’d found her asleep, warm and soft underneath the blankets, and slipped in next to her. They’d made love and he’d explained there was something he needed to do and that he’d be back in a few days.

He remembered how her luminous green eyes gazed back at him, her pupils changing shape as she thought. “Do what you need to do and then come back to me.” He thought it was impossible to love her more than he had at that moment.

“It
is
you.” The elderly man now stood next to him, determined as some old people were to converse.

Reluctantly, Hunter turned away from the view and his thoughts to acknowledge the man. “Mr. Allerton.” Talking before he engaged his brain, he said, “I thought you were dead.”

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