The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) (29 page)

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Authors: Lenore Wolfe

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BOOK: The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One)
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They had to move forward as though
they were merely fighting a hand-to-hand battle with
Constantine.

None of them had any idea of how to
deal with the possibility of the other, more horrific, power that
might now be a threat.

They would have to search for ideas
about how to deal with that one.

In itself, just the standard
meeting of vamps, Fae, and Jaguars in war would be difficult to
coordinate. And they all knew that the war wasn’t likely to end
with this one battle. No; this would likely be only the first of
many battles, and they were very likely to lose their share. In
fact—they were very likely to lose more than just a few.

They just had to make sure that
they won more than they lost.

If the control and power started
slipping more and more into Constantine’s hands—than they were
doomed.

And none of them were prepared to
let that to happen.

Lucius would be the liaison between
their troops and the Queen of Darkness. She, herself, had appointed
him the one to keep her abreast of the situation. She wanted kept
aware of all the planning that went into their efforts to keep
Constantine from gaining the power he sought. She had made it clear
that she would send more help should they need it.

But would the humans be able to
handle the influx of Fae?

On the other hand, if it came to
that, everything the humans had known would be permanently and
irrevocably changed by the time the need came to send in large
swarms of supernatural beings—shocking the humans and making them
realize that everything they now believed to be true was an
illusion—an illusion thrust upon them by those who would control
mankind.

By that time, the humans would have
suffered a few major shocks to what had become the great illusion
of mankind—given that they had allowed themselves to be lulled into
complacency until eventually they had forgotten everything—and now
were becoming more and more sure they were completely and utterly
alone on their planet—or even, in the worst illusion of all
believed themselves completely alone in the universe.

Yet if it came down to it and the
Queen of Darkness needed to send in large armies, it would no
longer matter what would come as a shock to the humans—just as long
as they didn’t allow Constantine to win—and take over their Mother
Earth.

Chapter
Thirty-One

Second Chances

Conrad leaned in to quietly
speak
to one of the guards, not taking his
eyes off the man who had just walked into Second Chances. Justice
looked up from where he was writing, in the booth he had claimed,
sensing that something was up before Conrad had even finished what
he was whispering.

Justice followed his line of sight
to the front door. He would have recognized the uniform the man
wore anywhere.

So it was
true.

He was in town.

No part of it could be denied
anymore. Not a single, slender thread of doubt could be found, or
even hope could be had, that this might have all been built on
nasty rumors, as rumors did have a way of taking on a life of their
own.

But Justice had great runners—and
he had known they were not receiving false information.

Yet—one could always hope that
perhaps all the stories had been blown out of proportion—until you
received proof.

They would not be left to wonder if
they would be granted a reprieve. Constantine’s main man, staring
him in the face, was the all the proof they needed—it was
on.

The long-awaited war was about to
begin, and this would likely be a war that could not be fought
without the humans becoming aware of a whole new world—one of which
most of them would rather be oblivious.

This was war with Constantine. And
before it was over—most of their world would be changed.

He felt the same curl of
anticipation that he had felt before—knowing the battle was
imminent—wanting to get on with it.

He had waited a very long time for
this.

He had been waiting ever since the
moment a fourteen-year-old boy had been attacked by a gang—and felt
the claws rip from his arms—and the smell of their blood fill his
nostrils.

The man came straight to Justice,
without missing a beat. Dracon came through the back door at that
same moment.
Damn the man is
good
, Justice thought. All those years of
training and fighting had given Dracon uncanny senses.

The stranger’s head actually
snapped around toward Dracon.

His eyes went dark.

Now, they had another problem. The
humans in the bar may have been coming here to see if all the hype
about this tavern was real—but tonight they just might get more
than they bargained for.

Yet, from the look in their eyes,
they weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

The question was—could he manage to
keep them safe when that happened?

Dracon had no real interest in
trying to preserve the lives of humans—especially humans who were a
little more curious about the supernatural world than was healthy
for them. Justice knew that Dracon only hoped that when the time
came—they would stay out of his way.

Justice didn’t hold his
breath.

Humans this curious would probably
want to do more than just watch—if it came to that. Yet some of
them
would
run
screaming.

Believing
a thing was one thing—but
seeing
a thing with your own eyes
was a whole lot more than many of them were ready for—in spite of
what they thought.

Dracon came straight up to them. He
walked with his usual, lithe grace that was particularly punctuated
by the danger—and his obvious readiness to welcome it. No one in
the tavern missed it.

Justice heard Conrad
groan.

Constantine’s man looked down at
Justice, clearly ignoring Dracon, which said something in
itself.


I’ve brought you a message,” he
said. He looked at Dracon and snarled. “There is one who requests a
parlay with you both—though I can’t see why he bothers.”

Justice met Dracon’s gaze and
heard him say
yes
in his head. He nodded. “Just let us know when and
where.”

The man nodded, and turning his
back on the
Jaguar
and the
vamp
of the ancients
, he walked out the
door.

The humans—actually looked
disappointed.


I’m going to track him,” Dracon
said.

Justice nodded.

After a long moment—the humans
started whispering to one another.

Conrad sent his bartenders to watch
over the tavern, and he and Justice sat down at a booth where they
could have uninterrupted time to talk and plan. Constantine’s
arrival had made it more imperative than ever that they find a way
to defeat him.

Dracon came back within the hour.
He didn’t have any more information to offer. He had been blocked
by some guards, who had been instructed to ensure that the
messenger was not followed back to their base.


Okay, so we’re to go to this
meeting,” Justice said, “just as soon as we’re told when and where
it’s being held.”

Dracon’s gaze was still on the
door. Justice knew he’d been ready for a fight—and was
disappointed.

He didn’t like this at
all.

The meeting would throw a bit of a
curveball into the plans they had created with Lucius and the men
last night, but not much of one. They had been pretty
thorough.

Unless the other rumor proved
itself true also—and if it did—likely nothing would save
them.

But there was help for it—they
would have to proceed forward for now—and they would meet the other
danger if—and when—it came.

He and Dracon would still have to
make an early night of it tonight. They had some more planning they
would need to do back at the manor. It wasn’t long before they left
Conrad with the guards and went back.

On their way back, Justice went
over the previous night’s plans, looking for ways to adapt what
they had put together. Caesar had been put to work reinforcing the
Alliance and its manors, but he knew he was going to need him to
come, soon, and run the tavern. He would need Conrad at the manor,
and he hoped that Caesar would finish his work on the manors
soon.

Roman would stick close by to allow
the Sisters of Three to utilize his knowledge and power over the
doorways. They had formulated a plan that would require the use of
such doorways. The sisters would need him to take them through one
or two of them when the time came.

Lucius was returning to the Land of
the Fae to speak with the Queen of Darkness. They were not going to
simply dispatch a message to her with the rumors of something that
might contain such a high level of risk. Lucius would handle this
first-hand. She would likely have a lot to say about what she would
like to see them do, should they discover for certain that
Constantine was a much bigger threat than even any of them had
already predicted—as if he hadn’t already been enough of a threat
in and of himself.

But then, Constantine had served as
a major threat way back in history, too. He had proven himself a
powerful commander. His intelligence in military tactics had served
to allow him to win many great battles. His ability to sway entire
countries to his point of view had proven his greatest threat—as
had his ability to insert his will into affecting and influencing a
book that would be passed down throughout the rest of history—and
would in turn control millions of people over many lifetimes, a
book that would rule those who followed it with an iron
fist.

The hand of the fist itself was
named “fear”.

Micah was sticking close to the
Sisters of Three. He refused to leave Mira’s side at a time like
this—and Justice hadn’t even needed to ask to place him as an extra
guard over the sisters. Between Roman and Micah, they gave Justice
some peace of mind, especially after Jes’s own father had attacked
her. His duties would not allow him to remain so close to Jes. It
was one of the more difficult, and more frustrating, parts of
leading his people. He had no doubt the sisters could handle
themselves. Still, it helped ease his mind knowing that Micah was
there. Micah had loved Mira through numerous lifetimes. He would
never allow anything to happen to her. He would do what he could to
keep the Sisters of Three safe. And that Roman was there, too, with
his ability over the doorways, was a great relief to
Justice.

That left Justice free to
concentrate on the source of this serious threat to their safety
and security. He would have to find out if the threat was posed by
Constantine, himself, or if they now had two enemies. Though it was
true that they had known Jes’s father was a threat, they may have
greatly underestimated his agenda—and his involvement.

It left Justice free to figure out
where his forces could make their first strike, to attempt to bring
Constantine’s armies to heel, and how they would deliver the blow
that would hopefully cripple—or perhaps even stop—him.

But it also gave Justice the
opportunity to send out his runners to try to discover if one more
rumor would prove itself true.

Chapter
Thirty-Two

War

Dracon ran through the dark at
lightning speed.
It was impossible for
Justice to track him when he moved that quickly. Constantine had
sent his messenger, as they had been told he would, indicating
where he would like them to meet. Dracon was now scouting the area
into which they had been summoned to walk, and he was making short
work of it. He was looking for signs that Constantine was trying to
set them up, and he was also looking for any weaknesses in
Constantine’s plans and positions.

Justice was walking straight up the
road, toward the cabin to which they had been instructed to go.
From all outward appearances, he seemed alone, but actually he and
Dracon were giving and receiving regular telepathic updates from
the others.

Yet, as hard as Justice worked to
track Dracon’s movements, it was impossible.

He continued to walk straight up
the dirt road, the moon spraying her silver rays and lighting his
way.

He silently thanked Grandmother
Moon.

Constantine had done what he said
he would: sent his man with instructions, and directed them to this
forest tonight. The forest lay an hour and half from Chicago,
nearly half-way to St. Louis, where Mira was from.

Justice moved down the lane, taking
great care to use every caution. No sound came from beneath his
feet. No sound at all came from the forest; everything was eerily
quiet. Even the animals seemed to know–something was going on and
it didn’t bode well for any being that lived here, in this
forest—or one who was foolish enough to venture here, this
night.

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