The Gates (22 page)

“Let’s get on with this, shall we?” Samira stood and drew a deep breath.

“Hand over the bags,” Gavin said to the others, his eyes crazed like an escaped lunatic’s.

“Gav, this isn’t the way to do this—”

“I said
hand over the damn bags
, Josh.”

“Gavin, let’s think about this for a second.” I whispered this under my breath, rushing forward to meet him, my stride swift and springy. I wanted to fly. I wanted to fly desperately. After I ran twenty miles and feasted on gallons of warm, beautiful blood the color of cranberries.

He looked back at me, unsteady and on the verge. I assumed, of course, that being forced to turn your wife into a vampire against your will and finding out your mother is alive after a hundred-odd years might do that to a person. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I mean, this is a very bad idea. You should think this through. You guys just managed to keep your spells intact and get the blood back.”

Josh lowered his head and then lifted puppy-dog eyes to mine, agreeing with me. Then, to Gavin, “No, man. I’m sorry. This is wrong.”

I immediately stepped between them, fearful of where this might head.

“Excuse me?” Gavin snapped, leaning over my shoulder. I pushed my back to him to force distance between them, pleased with my rock-hard strength. Bulldozing a wall was new on my list of priorities. The temptation was imminent.

“She’ll get what she wants from you, and then annihilate us before the others get here, man. You know she will.” Josh stepped close to me to get in Gavin’s face. “Arianna’s all we’ve got. She’s the key, remember?
This is it
.”

The key
. I gripped my necklace again and remembered my strange dream, a tingling curiosity coursing through me.

“Guys …” I froze, vibrations in the floor breaking my train of thought, sounds from the hall rattling fierce in my head. Would I ever get used to this kind of sensitivity? How were they not hearing this? “Guys!” I whispered louder.

They both stopped arguing and deadpanned me.

“I think we have company.”

17

PRIORITIES

Both sets of wooden doors flew open and more guards poured in to surround us, careful not to lunge toward our protective hedge this time. They noticed their comrades were down, stepped over their bodies as they filled the throne room, packing it like sardines. Gavin pulled me closer, glancing at his mother every few seconds, and once again our flock pulled together, backs to one another to form a circle. I scanned the mess before us, discouraged. No matter how well protected we were from every enemy in the room, Samira had the one bargaining tool with the power to bring our doom. I stared at the meek, beautiful woman sitting at the edge of the granite stairway, realizing she’d be the literal death of us. There was no way Gavin would keep her in the way of harm. There
had
to be another solution to this.

“Your Majesty, the Amaranthians are trying to escape,” one of the guards announced from the doorway. “Many died in the flood, but there are still too many. We can’t hold them all. What do we do?”

Samira narrowed her eyes at him. “Escape? Where do they think they are going? The portal is not open. What do you
mean
you cannot hold them all? They are merely mortals, you fool. Do whatever necessary to usher them back behind the gates, you idiots!”

“They’re trying to storm the castle, to help these traitors fight us,” he gestured to our group, “the traitors.”

“Keep them behind the gates!”

“But last time this happened, Gérard—”

“Silence! Do as I say. Now.” Samira returned her attention to Gavin and rested her chin on her hand, her elbow propped on the armrest. Have you decided to obey, Mr. Devereaux?”

“Gavin, even if she lets your mom go, she’ll just kill us all,” Josh whispered, keeping his voice low. He was right. And we would still have to hide away for the next few days until the portal opened, giving her more than enough time to come up with a plan to destroy us before the resistance arrived.

Gavin eyed the guards’ bodies and then our little group, his gaze finally settling back on his mother. His conflicted face sprang alive with determination, looking around once more, taking in the others’ measures while his mind’s wheels cranked into overdrive. His brow furrowed and he pursed his lips, concentrating hard.

“If you can’t beat ’em … join ’em,” he muttered with a slow step forward to stand in front of Samira. The lines of guards moved backward as he advanced, and our little flock followed behind him.

“What … did you just say?” I asked him, wary, although I had a vague feeling that what he was proposing might actually be a good idea. A nagging gut feeling told me an alliance of some sort would hurt Samira’s pride, but that it would somehow diffuse her fear, give her a feeling of false security. Which translated to an advantage for us.

“Samira,” Gavin cleared his throat, “you said in order to break the curse, we’d have to destroy Gérard, not you.”

She raised her eyebrows and straightened her posture. “You say that as if it is even possible.”

“If you so much as harm one hair on my mother’s head, you have my word that I’ll see to it Gérard’s power source is drained. When the resistance arrives, I won’t stop until every last Amaranthian is set free and sent back to earth. And what will he do with you then?”

Gavin took another step forward as he continued speaking, tilting his head to the side. “What I mean is, what will a conjure father, who has control over you, do when he sees how poorly you’ve managed your kingdom? During the last uprising, he almost killed you for allowing the war to get so out of hand. You almost wiped out every mortal in exile. He’ll have no use for you.”

Yes, yes. Good, Gavin, good! Keep going.

“Why, you reckless, worthless …” Samira lifted herself from her throne.

“Let me finish,” he strolled toward her, stopped at the bottom of the throne steps, staring straight up into her piercing blue eyes. “What Scarlet said is true. You have only the illusion of power on your side. You’re completely dependent on Gérard. Your power, your position, your immortality—he has a say over all of it.”

“You know
nothing
of this.”

“He sent Arianna to live with my family.” Gavin glanced at his mother. “I know a lot more than you think.”

“To live with your …” Samira remained calm, cold, but an unwilling curiosity colored her face.

“Why not bring him down? Instead of sitting there on your throne, century after century, bitter and heartless, why not do something about it? Why not reclaim your own freedom and make Arianna proud of you for once? Or would you rather just sit around and continue to threaten and kill? Is that all you’re good for? That’s a sad existence.”

“Simply draining his energy source will not kill him.”

“So let’s figure out what will. You know him better than anyone, I presume. Or perhaps you have something better to do?”

My newfound strength began to pulse harder, the surge of energy desperate to claw its way from my system as I pushed through the lingering, faint burning sensations in my head. My mind told me to lurch forward and lasso Gavin, slap him hard across the face to wake him from the crazy train he’d boarded, then catapult our entire group out of there before Samira even knew what hit her. But my instinct told me his strategy was just right. I grabbed Josh’s hand and he pulled me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, shock still evident on his face.

“Never in all of my days …” Samira took one step forward and reached out to touch the invisible hedge of protection with her nails, drawing back her hand when she felt the jolt, “have I encountered such a brazen, defiant …”

“Why don’t we destroy him, Samira? Work with us, not against us anymore. Together we can do this. And with Vivienne on our side …”

“Gavin, no!” his mother cried out, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room. “That’s enough, say nothing more, son!”

He ignored her plea, intent on maintaining eye contact with the frigid queen. “You can’t possibly enjoy being his slave, Samira. So why fight for him any longer? Just so you can maintain power? What, because you love him? You have a
daughter
out there who is alive and well. Who you’ve done
nothing
but let down from day one. Do something selfless for once in your life.”

“She was taken from
me.
” Samira swung her lace train around and floated toward the fireplace, peering at Gavin’s mother and the wolves from the corner of her eye.

“But you crushed your daughter’s hope with Joel. You meddled in their relationship and destroyed her spirit. He was her one true love, and now he’s
dead
because of
your
monsters. Do you expect her to ever forgive you? You can’t possibly redeem yourself from that.” He turned and resumed his place next to Josh and me. “But you can start over and prove to her you’re sorry for all you’ve done. You can show her you choose the hope of her forgiveness over your own selfishness.”

Samira stood with her back to us, her head sagging as the room’s silence cut into us once again. It felt as if hours passed before she uttered a word.

“Never in all of my days …” Her voice was a faint whisper.

“We’re going to get our friends and help the Amaranthians recover from the flood before the resistance arrives,” Gavin caught his mother’s helpless gaze, holding it with a promising intensity. “Think about what I’ve said. We’ll be back when the crescent moon rises.” He nodded to his mother solemnly, slowly encouraging our group to retreat. We exited through the throne room doors quietly and quickly, leaving nothing behind but the sound of the fireplace’s soft crackle and Samira’s gentle weeping.

* * *

“Well, you bloody well did it now, didn’t you?”

“Who died and made you king?”

“How do you even know Gérard can be destroyed? He’s the father of us all!”

Voices came at Gavin from every angle while he worked to subdue them, and I just sat there in our little flooded living room on a log, ready to run, climb, fly—anything but sit there. Josh passed around blood and gave me the please-help-me-in-the-kitchen-before-I-pass-out look, and I happily obliged. He was flustered and out of control, and I was glad to surround myself with fresh blood.

“I’ve supported Gavin with everything, Cam. Everything he’s ever done. Every mess he’s ever made, every mess he’s dragged Joel and Gabe into … but this? This is beyond saving.” His hand trembled as he poured the blood into spare cups he found around the cooking area.

“Josh, I’m sure no one minds drinking out of the bags.…” I reached for him to try to steady his hand.

“No. I just want …” He pulled away and shook his head, attempted to stop the trembling before pouring another glass. “We need … normalcy around here. For just two damn minutes. Normalcy!” His soft, youthful eyes welled up, the creases of his eyelids bunching as he struggled to hold himself together.

“Josh, listen to me.” I eyed the glass he poured liked a starved animal, stealing it before he had a chance to take a sip. “Out of all of those so-called messes Gavin’s gotten into over the years, how many of them did he come out of unscathed?”

“I don’t know, I guess …”

“Pretty much all of them, am I right?” I knocked back the drink in one gulp. All of the revulsion I’d originally felt about drinking it had disappeared. All I could think about was getting more. So. Much. More. “That’s because he doesn’t need saving. He’s bold, he takes huge risks—always has, apparently—but he takes them based on his instincts, and he seems to emerge from each catastrophe just fine. Visiting his parents here when he was younger, encouraging the resistance, planning the attack, and now this. All of it is crazy, I know. But we have to trust him. And Samira’s … afraid of something. I don’t know what. As soon as Gavin proposed an alliance, she relaxed a bit. That has to mean something.” I moved to lean on the little brown table, kicking pots and pans away from my feet. The soft, mushy ground sloshed underneath my feet and I kicked a chunk of muck from the tip of my shoe.

“What could she be afraid of?” he said. “All it means is, she wants her daughter back. She’ll still kill us the second she gets a chance. Afraid of something? Are you kidding me? And you didn’t seem so trusting yourself back there.” He gathered a few of the filled cups in his hands. “You were just as shocked as I was.”

“That was before.”

“Before
what
?”

“Before I saw the determination on his face. The way he looked at his mother. He never would’ve said those things to Samira if he didn’t believe we really had a chance, Josh.”

“She’s right.” Gavin appeared behind me, his eyes widening when he saw Josh’s scrappy little arms struggling to carry all the cups. “Let me help you out there, man.” He took a few and gathered them. “We have the upper hand, and Samira knows it. Why do you think she went silent? You think it was easy for me leaving my mom there? She’s the only leverage Samira has left, and if she loses that … she knows we’ll retaliate. And I doubt she wants Gérard showing up if we drain the city.”