Cronin's Key III (25 page)

Read Cronin's Key III Online

Authors: N.R. Walker

Tags: #romance, #vampire, #gay

BOOK: Cronin's Key III
6.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

An anguished roar ripped through the silence from the three
replicated Cronin’s in his mind
. The real Cronin fell backwards onto his ass on the church
floor. “Alec!”

Alec struggled to get up, scrambling
weakly to console him. “I’m okay. It was just a replicated me. I’m
here.”

Cronin felt a wave of numbing relief roll through him, and
he knew it came from Alec. He put the heel of his hand to his chest
where the residual ache still lingered, and he shook his head.

Even still, m’cridhe. To see
you die….” He shuddered. “I cannot bear it.”

Alec
sagged from
exertion, and Cronin quickly pulled him against his chest. They sat
on the floor, leaning against the wall while the others looked on,
both at the two men on the ground and at the visions in their
minds.

Benito let out a wail as a replicated Viviana turned to
dust, and he quickly pulled his sister into his arms. Then a
replicated Kennard was caught off guard and
a winged dragon-like Zoan let an unholy fire
wash over him. The real Kennard paled, and Jodis put her hand on
his arm. “It’s not real,” she said softly.

Eiji knelt beside Cronin and put his
hand on Alec. “We’re losing down there.”


We need more of us,” Alec said. His eyes pinched
shut, he let out a heaving breath,
and more replications appeared down in the fiery pits before he
sagged in Cronin’s arms.


Alec no,” Cronin sobbed.
“Please stop.”

He opened
his eyes wearily. “I’ve fought worse.” Then Alec paused, the way he
often did when he was seeing something, a vision only he could see.
“Where’s Kennard?” he asked.

Kennard? What on earth for…?
“He’s uh, he’s just here,” Cronin said.

Alec smiled just as Kennard crouched
down beside him. “I’m glad you’re here,” Alec said.

Kennard glanced at Cronin, then back
to Alec. “What for?”


To see this.” Alec sat up a little, still leaning against
Cronin’s chest. “We have visitors arriving in three, two,
one.”

Right on cue, two vampires leapt into the main
cathedral
, vampires Cronin
had never seen before. They did not exactly like finding themselves
amongst a dozen strange vampires.

Yevgeny and Asya stepped forward.
“It’s fine,” Asya said in Russian with her hands out. “You’re safe
here. Thank you for coming, Stas.”

Stas was a
huge man, even bigger than Feliks. He looked around the cathedral
and recognized the place immediately. “What is this? Why you bring
me here?” he barked in broken English.


We need your help,”
Yevgeny said. “You know the history of this church and the lands on
which it was built.”

Alec’s hand
tightened on Cronin’s arm, and smiling despite being exhausted, he
gave a nod toward Kennard. The elf-like English vampire stood up
slowly. His mouth dropped open and his hands fell to his sides,
seemingly unable to take his eyes off Stas, a vampire who was
almost double his size. “Wow,” Alec mumbled.

Stas stared at Kennard
for the longest moment, and he took a step back. “What
sorcery is this?”

Then Kennard took a step forward. “You
are him.”

Stas shook
his head, though his expression was one of wonder. “And
you….”

Kennard nodded and took another step
forward. Then he stopped and turned back to Alec. “He is
Russian?”

Alec smiled
and he leaned back, relaxing into Cronin’s chest. Then Cronin felt
it: the bloom of fate. The exact feeling he had when he saw Alec
the very first time. He knew Alec was feeling the bond between
Kennard and Stas, and Alec was sharing it with Cronin. His empathic
ability absorbed the emotions of those around him, but this was
something special.

Cronin kissed the side of Alec’s head, and for the briefest
moment in a world of madness, to witness something wonderful was
humbling and magical
. It was
clear to see from the faces of those in the room that it reminded
them of what they were fighting for.


You.” Stas pointed his
huge finger at Kennard and he backed away. “Stay away from
me.”

Oh.
Okay, so maybe
not.

Alec put his hand up.
“Stas.”

The huge
Russian vampire’s eyes widened with shock and he turned to look at
everyone. “What happened? My mind! What is this?”


It was me!” Alec said. His voice croaked as he spoke. “My
name is Alec. I have put a shield around your mind to block out the
voices. It is temporary. It’s just to give you some peace from the
thoughts of others while you process what is happening.”

Stas sagged a little, and he calmed down considerably.
Cronin didn’t know if that was Alec’s doing or not
or relief from having the voices in
his head finally silenced, but either way, it worked.

Kennard
looked torn
between staying away like Stas had asked and going to him. He put
his hand to his chest. “My name is Kennard. I am an elder from
London.”

Stas tried to look away from Kennard,
but it seemed he couldn’t. He shook his head and put his hand out,
as though signaling that Kennard should not come any closer. He
looked back at Yevgeny. “Why have I been called here?”


This church was built on
sacred ground, yes?” Yevgeny said. “Over nine pits with stone
pillars?”

Stas paled
and took a small step back, which was answer enough that he knew of
the pits.


The portal is open,”
Feliks told him. “The creatures are spilling out of it.”

Stas shook his head vehemently. “The
portal must be closed.”


How?” Eiji
asked.

Stas looked
around the room. “I don’t know. Ivan the Terrible built this
church. You heard of Oprichnina and the Massacre of Novgorod? Well
it was not state policy or a famine or plague. It was those hellish
creatures that killed sixty-thousand of my people.”


Oh, Jesus,” Alec whispered under his breath.


Ivan built this place to stop the Zoan? Or to protect
them?” Asya asked.

Stas glared hard at her. “What do you
think? He was promised great power, but it sent him
mad.”

Alec put his hand to his forehead. “So
this portal was open before?”

Stas gave one hard nod.
“Yes.”


How was it
closed?”

Stas shrugged. “It just stopped. Like
I said, I don’t know. The creatures just stopped
coming.”

Alec sighed.
“Well, these aren’t stopping.” He flashed a brief image of the
battle in the pits below into Stas’ mind so he could see what
everyone else saw. There weren’t many replicates left, and those
creatures just kept coming out of the ground. They were escaping
through a tunnel and heading toward the Kremlin.

Stas’ eyes were saucers. “How do you
do these mind tricks? You have more than one talent? How is this
so?”


He is the key,” Cronin said.

Stas looked
at him disbelievingly, before the huge man smiled and bowed his
head. “Oh,” he said softly. “Forgive me. It is an
honor.”


It’s going to be all over soon if we can’t stop this,” Alec
said, then squeezed his eyes shut. Cronin saw, as he assumed
everyone did, that two, three, four, and five more sets of
replicates appeared in the pits below against too many Zoan. He
slumped breathless and fell back against Cronin.


Tell us what you know of
this place,” Jodis said to Stas. “Quickly.”


Many have tried to burn it down, to damage the pits. But
nothing worked.” He kept glancing at Kennard and could only drag
his eyes off him for a second before looking at him again. “The
Illyrians, the French. Napoleon himself tried.”

Kennard hissed. “I always hated
Napoleon.”

Stas finally smiled at him. “Me too.”
Kennard’s resulting grin was huge.


Something had to have happened in 1812,” Viviana said. She
looked at Jodis. “I wish I had our laptop and notepads. We could
try and figure this out.”

Alec groaned and the computer and notepads Viviana and
Jodis had been working on, including the book St
. Peter wrote, appeared on the altar. “Ask and
you shall receive,” Alec whispered.


Alec, you must stop,” Cronin whispered, holding him tight.
Replicating dozens of vampires was draining enough, but adding in
the mental shield on Stas, shielding his own mind, mental
projections into others, leaping… it was all too much. The visions
in Cronin’s mind of the battle beneath them started to diminish,
flickering in and out. “Your talents are making you too weak,”
Cronin said. “You’re trying to do too much.” Finally the visions
gave out altogether.

Yevgeny
gasped. “The
mental projections are gone. We can’t see down there.”


He needs to feed,” Eiji said to Cronin. Eiji was full of
concern. Kneeling beside them, he put one hand on Alec’s forehead,
then on his chest. Then he pulled up his shirtsleeve and put his
wrist to Alec’s mouth.


No,” Cronin said. “From
me.” He couldn’t bear the thought of Alec tasting anyone else, as
foolish—as selfish—as it seemed. He just couldn’t. He pulled back
his sleeve and put his wrist to Alec’s mouth. “Alec, m’cridhe,
drink from me.”

Alec’s eyes took a moment to focus. He opened his mouth,
his fangs slowly came down like even that was an effort, and he bit
down and started to drink. Cronin tipped Alec’s head back against
his chest to allow the blood to run down his throat. Alec had
bitten and drank from Cronin countless times since he’d become a
vampire, each time a carnal act. But this was
oh so
very
different.

Alec needed him, and Cronin would do
anything—
anything
—to make him
right. He ignored the sting of being bitten and the dull ache that
spread up his arm as Alec fed. He simply pressed his lips to the
top of Alec’s head and let the love he felt for him bloom warmth in
his chest, hoping Alec would feel it.

A soft purr from Alec told him he
could.

Alec
eventually pulled his teeth back and licked the wound on Cronin’s
wrist, sealing it closed. He sagged again and closed his eyes,
though he seemed to be breathing better. Eiji finally smiled and
patted Alec’s arm before he stood up and went back to
Jodis.


I can still see down there,” Alec said. Then he whispered
to the room, “We’re losing this fight.”

Then Jorge
, who had
stood hidden behind Adelmo all this time, walked to the middle of
the room and rocked back on his heels. His eyes went black. “Alec?”
It wasn’t Jorge’s voice that came from the child’s mouth. It was
Alec’s mother. Jorge turned to look at where Cronin and Alec sat
slumped against the wall, and the little boy frowned. “Oh, Alec.”
He walked over to them and put his chubby hand to Alec’s cheek.
“Let Jorge help.”


How?” Cronin
asked.


Take Jorge to the central pit,” Alec’s mother said.
“An
d we will show you. We
know now how you can beat them.”

Alec stared at Jorge for a long while, and Cronin could
tell they were having a silent, private conversation. Then
Alec looked up at everyone watching
on. “It’s the only way.”


No!” Adelmo barked. “Into
the pit with those creatures? He’s just a boy!”

Jorge looked up at Adelmo and held out his hand to him.
Adelmo took Jorge’s hand and he smiled up at the only father he’d
ever known.
“Jorge help,” he
said. It was a voice Cronin didn’t recognize.

Adelmo looked to Alec with panic in
his eyes. “Can you not replicate him?”

It was Jorge who answered. “Must be
Jorge.”

Adelmo
sagged. His face crumpled. “He’s just a boy.”

Alec
struggled to get to his feet, so Cronin helped him. “Those in the
afterlife will help,” Alec said. “And we all will go to keep him
safe. We will defend his life with our own.”

Despite the tears in his eyes, Adelmo
nodded
. He looked around at
the other vampires in the room. Alec was unsteady on his feet so
Cronin kept him close. “We have to do this now,” Alec said. He
looked around the room. “Jodis and Asya, stay here and figure out
how Ivan closed the portal. The rest of us will go to kill as many
Zoan as we can. And when we’re down there, we
all
protect Jorge.”

Jodis put her forehead to Eiji’s. “Be
safe, my love.” Eiji responded with nothing but a soft kiss to her
lips.

Alec fisted Cronin’s shirt
, trying to muster the strength to leap everyone, but he
exhaled in a rush. He looked at Cronin with vulnerable eyes and
shook his head. “I can’t.”


Everyone hold on,” Cronin said. He waited until everyone
there was touching, and he leapt them all back into the nine
circles of hell.

Other books

The Jealous Kind by James Lee Burke
Young Mr. Obama by Edward McClelland
The Bronze of Eddarta by Randall Garrett
Make Love Not War by Tanner, Margaret
Camp Rock by Lucy Ruggles
The Exotic Enchanter by L. Sprague de Camp, Lyon Sprague de Camp, Christopher Stasheff