The Dracove (The Prophecy series) (38 page)

They flew over the city. The other three spread out behind them. Fledglings never flew in front of their Master. Grant chuckled under his breath. He remembered doing the same with Cianán.

“I met her in the States, in Arizona.”

“Arizona? Glutton for punishment, much?” Cearbhall said. “Why didn’t ye just go to the Sahara if ye wanted to fry in the desert?”

“Just because you don’t care for the sun, it doesn’t mean every vampyre out there hates it.”

“Oh, that’s right, you actually enjoy it, don’t ye?” He shook his head. “You are a—”

“Strange man? So I’ve been told,” Grant cocked a brow at him and focused on the flight once more. “I went there with a purpose. I felt Siobhán’s locket move an’ happened to get to the destination before it did. Fucking postal system on this planet sucks. That damned old woman sent the locket to Kylie; she’d promised it to me.”

“Aye, I noticed her wearin’ it.”

“Kylie’s actually related to the cunning woman somehow, can ye believe that? I thought the old bat never married.”

“She didn’t. Much like your great great great great—”

“I get the point.”

“—great-grandmother.”

“Asshole.”

They flew over and around the many steeples of the Catholic Cathedral. The cathedral awaited their arrival; silvery spears pointed to the heavens to impale them on, just like in the old days. Grant knew Cearbhall had seen it happen long ago, during the twelfth century. He’d said he still didn’t know how it was the vampyres got up there, considering the limited technology. They flew too close to one of them and Cearbhall shuddered. He increased his speed to get past the spike as quickly as possible.

“Didn’t Siobhán have brothers?”

Grant gave a quick nod. “Two. Fergus an’ John.”

“I wonder which one Kylie descends from.”

The corner of Grant’s mouth lifted. “Probably Fergus. She has his stubbornness.”

“Aye, I remember Fergus.”

“How could one forget the man?”

“He was definitely stubborn, but had a heart of gold,” Cearbhall said.

“An’ he hated Cianán,” Grant added. “That alone gives him royal status in my book.”

Cearbhall agreed. “He knew your death was . . . odd, y’know. Never once questioned it, but he knew, especially after Siobhán died.”

“Aye, I know,” Grant replied sullenly.

“Cianán wanted to kill him, but I talked him out of it.” Cearbhall glanced at him. He looked away abruptly. “I suppose we’ve all played a part—”

“In the prophecy?”

Cearbhall sighed. “Aye.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, dear brother.”

* * * * *

Kylie wandered into the library and stared at the books covering the walls. The shelves spanned from one wall to the other, around the corner and stopped at the window. They began again on the other side of the second window and continued around, finally stopping at the entrance. The shelves extended from the floor to the cathedral ceiling, where there was a small balcony wrapping around the room to reach the shelves on the second level. She couldn’t figure out how to get onto the balcony. There weren’t any stairs, and the ladder wasn’t tall enough. She wondered if she was supposed to sprout wings. She laughed and walked past the large desk centered in front of the shelves to her left.

She’d never seen so many books in a house before. Even Grant’s home library didn’t have as many.
Cearbhall must really like to read
. She noticed some of them were very old—most definitely older than she was, and probably older than Grant, however old he was. She knew he had to be at least four to five hundred, given the statement Cearbhall made earlier, which still amazed her. But she wasn’t going to dwell on it. He’d tell her someday. She hoped he’d do it before she grew old and died.

The thought brought their argument back to the forefront of her mind. She scowled and pressed on to find a damn book to read. She didn’t understand how exactly it was
his
choice. It wasn’t. The choice was hers to make. Her body, her life.

Kylie’s belly was full from the wonderful meal Frederick made for her. All she wanted to do was curl up with a good book by the fire Frederick prepared in the parlor. It looked so cozy in there—the last thing she expected to experience within the wall of an ancient fortress—and she anticipated climbing into the large burgundy leather chair near the fireplace. She’d spied a big pillow and a blanket nearby too. She didn’t know how long the “hunt” would last; reading would make the time go by faster.

She walked around the desk and read the spines. One caught her eye, but it was too high for her to reach. Grabbing the ladder, she pushed it to where she needed, and climbed up. She found the book again and pulled it from the shelf.

“Right on, Dean Koontz.”

Kylie was rather surprised such a modern work sat within the presence of greatness surrounding it. Cearbhall’s taste varied greatly. The collection was so vast; it included books in other languages, though they were arranged by the English alphabet. She stared at the book in her hand and wondered if it was a good idea to read something written by Koontz. His stories were always a tad frightening. They tended to make her jumpy. She flipped through it, skimming the pages. Strange sounds coming from above caught her attention. She tilted her head back and stared, listening carefully.

Something was on the roof.

Rathius’ eyes glowed red. Life pulsed through his veins once again.
It has been so long.
He slowly lifted each finger and stretched them until all three on each of his four hands loosened from their stone mounts. He looked up to the heavens, and turned his head from side to side, cracking the stiffness out of his neck. Spreading his wings out slowly, he shook them to kick the dirt off. He saw the waxing moon and smiled. The moon was nearly full.
The time has come.

She was near.

Rathius and his brethren watched over this domain for centuries, unable to move more than a few inches to scare someone off, but he was never quite . . . alive. Only one thing could bring him back to this realm, make him live again. He sensed her attention on him.

Looking to the ground, he saw movement. “Vampyres,” he grumbled under his breath.

They assumed he and the others were merely statues, as they were meant to. None of them bothered to look up. Cianán didn’t know Cearbhall hid them upon his rooftop and throughout his property. Rathius grinned again, baring a multitude of tiny sharp teeth and four large fangs. The others slowly awakened.

He was, of course, the first to awaken. Rathius longed for the taste of fresh blood on his tongue.

Rathius, what are we to do?
Radu, his brother, asked him through their mind link.

Kill them all
, Rathius answered.
And protect the Queen.

A shadow passed the nearby window. Kylie glanced over from ladder she still perched upon. It wasn’t a shadow, and it grinned at her, showing its fangs. Its claws scratched the glass. She cringed from the screech it made. The sound sent a horrifying chill down her spine. She wished they’d stop messing with her. They’d started earlier when she arrived, but it wasn’t quite as evil.

She gasped upon closer inspection. The creature behind the glass wasn’t one of Cearbhall’s vampyres. They were all with him and Grant. She looked to the other window. Another vampyre grinned at her. It motioned for her to come to it with a finger.

The hardback book fell from her hand.

BANG

She jumped from the noise and quickly grabbed the ladder. Kylie scurried down and ran out of the library, stopping in the foyer. She looked through the parlor windows. A chaotic scene involving more vampyres and creatures she’d never seen before played out through the glass. Mesmerized by the horrific scene she froze in place for a moment. She snapped out of it and moved to get a closer look. The doorknob jiggled back and forth. She turned around in the large entryway, looking for someplace to hide. Her eyes fell upon the stairs.
No, I’m not going there again
.

Glass broke in the library.

“FREDERICK!”

The vampyres coming through the windows in the library, and the parlor, clapped their hands over their ears.

“Damn! He didn’t say she could do that,” one of them said. He stopped in his tracks in the middle of the library.

“What?” The other jiggled his finger in his ear, like it would make the ringing stop. The first one shook his head and nodded in Kylie’s direction.

They crept toward her from both sides. Kylie would be surrounded soon. The door opened behind her. Unwilling to face a new danger, she backed toward the kitchen.

Five vampyres met in the foyer, laughing at her. She’d backed herself down the side of the stairwell, near the dining hall and kitchen.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” the new one said. “Does she really think she can outrun us?”

“Let me catch her, please, Matty,” a female begged.

“No, Lord said it’ll take all of us. She might be too powerful for just one,” another said.

The female stomped her foot and pouted. “She’s just a mortal.” She huffed and blew her curly brown hair away from her face.

Kylie vanished from their sight and burst through the kitchen door. She ran over to the butcher block, pulled a knife out, and turned around, not really knowing why she grabbed it. It made her feel safe, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to kill one of them with it. Not after what Grant told her. There would be no decapitation by butcher knife. Even if she could stab one of them in the heart, the other four would get her . . . unless there were more by now. She wondered what in the hell she was supposed to do, and tried to call for Grant in her mind.

She heard a voice.

It wasn’t Grant’s. The voice came from the hallway she’d run through. A nearby door opened and closed.

The noise outside was unbearable with all the screaming and growling. She crouched down and peered over the countertop through the window. She watched two vampyres torture one of the other creatures. They’d shredded its wings and torn off its arms—which it had four of—but all she saw lying on the ground were stones. One of the vampires held it in a kneeling position and the other gutted the creature. Blood flew everywhere, along with whatever organs were inside its body. The vampyre plunged his hand into the gargoyle’s abdomen one final time and jerked up, splitting it in half from the waist up.

Kylie felt her dinner rise in her throat, but stopped it from coming any farther and looked away from the disturbing sight. She checked behind her to see if the five had followed her yet.

Stupid
,
Ky. Really fucking stupid.
She crawled toward another door.
Please let Frederick be okay . . . .

She opened the door and crawled inside the dining room. Kylie found another door in the center of the wall. It was barely visible. She rose up on her knees, ready to jump up and run to it. Voices came from the other end of the dining room. She crawled under the large mahogany table and prayed they wouldn’t be able to smell her. She controlled her breathing to stay calm. They’d probably scent her out because of her blood, but she had to at least try.

Two sets of feet walked by and went through the kitchen door. She crawled out from under the table and ran to the hidden door. She slid her fingers along the seam of the door, searching for the trigger. As though her fingers had found it several times before, her forefinger ran over the button trigger made to match the wallpaper. She pushed it in. The door opened. Kylie ran in, shut it behind her, and fumbled for the locks in darkness. The lock clicked and she let out a sigh. It wouldn’t hold them for long once they figured out where she was. If they figured it out. She couldn’t take the chance.