03 - Evolution (22 page)

“You should know.” Tanis gave her a cryptic smile, as
though he was enjoying a private joke at her expense. “It’s the door to
William’s prison. The prison your father was commissioned to build.”

My father?
Unbidden, the
buried memories came rushing through her brain:

…the dungeon was damp and cold.
Along with her sister, little Selene perched atop a stack of wooden
crates as she playfully painted a shining sun on the wall of a stone
passageway. A seashell held their bright yellow paint, which was a
mixture of tree sap and ground-up dandelions. Selene used a hog’s-hair
brush to add the sun’s bright rays. Less than a foot away, Cecilia used
the red paint, made from powdered madder roots, to add some cheerful
flowers to the blank stone wall.

The passage echoed with the sound
of picks and hammers pounding away at solid rock. Sweating laborers
hauled carts of debris up to the surface. It looked like hard work to
Selene, who was glad she didn’t have to do it.

Her father strolled by, calling out
instructions to the work crew. He paused to smile at the two girls.
Twinkling brown eyes inspected their handiwork. “What beautiful
paintings,” he said warmly. He grinned at them through his bushy brown
beard. “How lucky I am to have such talented artists as daughters.”

Selene beamed back at her father.
She was proud of him. A master mason and smith, he was in charge of
constructing these new dungeons beneath the mighty fortress above. He
clutched a roll of parchments in one hand. A mason’s compass was tucked
into his belt. Selene knew that his was an important and demanding job.
Not every man would be up to such a task.

Lord Viktor must think very highly of my father,
she thought.

…many days later, she watched
intently as her father inserted the open pendant into a decorative
impression on the wall. Stone ground against stone as hidden machinery
came to life. Invisible gears engaged behind the wall, and a section of
seemingly solid stone split apart, revealing a shadowy alcove leading to
a staircase whose upper steps were shrouded in darkness.

Selene shuddered at the thought of
where that staircase might lead. Even as a child she knew what a dungeon
was, and a hidden dungeon struck her as many times worse. She couldn’t
imagine who could possibly be so bad as to deserve being locked away and
forgotten forever.

…the pendant rested in the little
girl’s hands. The shiny metal blades projecting from the device
reflected the flickering candlelight. Selene thought she had never seen
anything quite so beautiful.

A heavy thud caught Selene by
surprise. She spun around, terrified, only to find her father gazing
down at her with an amused smile. She let out a sigh of relief. For a
moment, she had been afraid that an ogre or brigand had found her.

Her father bent down so that he
could look her in the eye. “Oh, so you’ve been the one keeping a watch
over this for me, have you?” His affectionate chuckle assured her that
she was not in trouble for borrowing the pendant. “Much obliged,
darling. I’ve been searching everywhere for this.”

He kissed her forehead, then gently
took the pendant from her hand….

The memories hit Selene like a wooden stake through her
heart. She turned to Michael for comfort, shock and distress written all
over her face. The icy mask she had maintained throughout her
interrogation of Tanis was melted away by the volatile emotions bubbling
up inside her. At the moment, exposing her vulnerability to their
prisoner was the least of her concerns.

“What is it?” Michael asked anxiously. He gently took
hold of her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

Tanis knew, even if Michael hadn’t figured it out yet.
“She now understands why her family was killed.”

Selene didn’t want to believe it. She had thought Viktor
had attacked their home at random, merely to indulge an illicit craving
for human blood. She had never connected the slaughter with the pretty
pendant she had once played with as a child.

“That was many years later,” she protested. “I was
nearly twenty.”

The historian remembered it well. “The winter of
Lucian’s escape,” he observed. “Your father knew too much. Too much for
Viktor to risk, especially when Lucian had this.” He held up the
pendant. “The key to William’s cell.”

The pieces started to fall into place, creating a
hideous picture in Selene’s mind. A chill ran down her spine as the full
implications sank in.

“And I’m the map.”

Tanis smirked, amused by Selene’s growing horror. “Yes,
the only one still living who has seen its location. Viktor counted on
you being too young to remember the site explicitly. But Marcus knows
that the memory—and therefore, the exact location—of his brother’s
prison is hidden away in your blood.”

Michael was still a few steps behind. “Why is Marcus
looking for him now, after all this time?”

“The great covens are led by those still loyal to
Viktor,” Tanis said with a touch of impatience, as though Michael should
have been well aware of that. He seemed more interested in confronting
Selene with the coven’s dirty little secrets. “Marcus was never a true
equal amongst the Elders. Viktor used his followers to undercut Marcus
at every turn, ensuring his own primacy.”

All of this came as news to Selene. Unlike Kraven, she
had never had any interest in the coven’s often byzantine politics. As
long as there had been lycans to hunt, she had been content to let the
Elders govern the coven, each in their own turn, according to the
never-ending cycle of the Chain. That there might actually be serious
dissension among the Elders themselves had never even occurred to her.
That was what the Chain was for, after all. She wondered briefly what
part Amelia had played in this centuries-long power struggle between
Marcus and Viktor.

Perhaps I don’t want to know.

In any event, Marcus was now the only Elder left. No
wonder he felt free to go searching for William after all these
centuries.
All he needs is the pendant—and a taste
of my blood.

“Now that Marcus is of… mixed nature,” Tanis continued,
Selene having previously informed him of the Elder’s shocking
transformation, “well, the coven will certainly never bow down to… an
abomination.” He spit out the last word with disgust, then realized his
faux pas. “Present company excluded, of course.”

Michael glared at Tanis, who offered a feeble smile in
apology. Michael took back the pendant.

“That still doesn’t explain why Marcus needs William,”
Selene pointed out.

Tanis shrugged and threw up his hands. “That I cannot
say.”

Wrong answer,
Selene
thought. She clicked off the safety on her new handgun and lifted the
weapon into firing position.

Tanis got the message. “But I know who can stop him,” he
added hastily.

Selene lowered her weapon.

“Perhaps I can arrange a meeting,” Tanis volunteered.
“In exchange for your discretion.”

She gave him a withering look. “Of course.”
What a double-dealing snake,
she thought.
He gives vampires a bad name.

Ten minutes later, they were on the road to Budapest in
a new SUV provided by Tanis. Another of Lucian’s gifts to the turncoat
vampire, hidden away in a concealed garage beneath the old monastery.
Selene assumed that Tanis considered the car a small price to pay in
exchange for their leaving him alive.

I wonder which of us got the greater bargain?

Tanis dropped Grushenka’s lifeless body onto the heap of bones in the lycans’
lair, where it joined Olga’s corpse among the moldering ruins. Selene
and that hybrid freak had finally departed, thank the Fates, leaving him
to deal with the Death Dealer’s unfortunate victims. He wished there was
time to give his paramours a more dignified burial, but the monastery
was clearly no longer a safe refuge for him. And with Viktor dead at
last, he no longer needed to worry about incurring the Elder’s wrath by
leaving.

The sooner I’m out of here, the
better,
he resolved. He lingered in the squalid lair, thinking
ahead to his departure. Choosing what to take and what to leave behind
would be excruciating, especially where his library was concerned, but
Tanis knew that he needed to travel light if he wanted to escape the
bloody chaos that seemed to have broken out among his fellow immortals.
He wondered where he could go to hide from the tumult. China maybe, or
Australia? America was no good; Amelia’s followers in the New World
Coven would be looking for a scapegoat for her death.
I’m not taking the fall for
that
one. That was Kraven’s doing, not mine.

His mind raced, compiling a list of what to pack. He was
going to need weapons, money, and a new identity. Too bad Olga and
Grushenka had not survived their encounter with Selene; he was going to
miss their company and their bodies, not necessarily in that order. It
was a bloody nuisance, too, that Selene had stolen his only vehicle, but
if he could just make it over the hills to the nearest mortal town or
hamlet, he should be able to buy or steal a new getaway car. Then it was
simply a matter of reaching an airport or rail station.

Maps,
he thought.
I need maps.
He made a mental note to
extract an atlas from his library, even as he winced at the thought of
all his precious volumes he would have to leave behind.
Just as well,
he assured himself.
I’ve spent enough time reading these past
centuries.
It was time he rejoined the world.

If he could just get away fast enough.

Crash!
The sound of heavy
doors flying open echoed from above. Plus, was it just his imagination
or did he hear an ominous flapping as well?

Fear seized the historian’s heart. Leaving the bodies of
his lovers behind, he ran frantically up the steps toward the moonlit
corridors of the old monastery. Terror pursued him all the way back to
the wine cellar, even as the fearsome flapping grew louder. Tanis knew
only too well the source of that dreadful noise.

Marcus!

Tanis dashed across the cellar and slammed shut a pair
of heavy oak doors. With no more caged werewolves to guard the
monastery, the terrified historian was left to his own devices. He
bolted the doors shut and backed away from them fearfully. Sweat dripped
from his brow. His mouth went dry with fear. To think that less than an
hour ago he had been lolling in bed with two beautiful, naked
vampiresses…!

Something pounded on the other side of the door. Tanis
nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced at his weapons rack. Was there
anything there powerful enough to stop a hybrid Elder? Tanis rather
doubted it; according to Selene, Marcus had practically shrugged off the
blasts of her pistol. Still, perhaps the UV cartridges might stand a
chance?

He took a step toward his armory, but not quickly
enough. The heavy doors buckled inward, then exploded off their hinges.
They hit the floor with a resounding crash that stirred up a huge cloud
of dust. Tanis stared with fear-stricken eyes as Marcus strode through
the arched doorway.

The Elder looked just as Tanis remembered, aside from
the demonic wings sprouting from his back. Tanis’ gaze was riveted by
the unnatural wings, which emerged from the back of the battered leather
overcoat draped over Marcus’ shoulders. Obviously, Selene had not
exaggerated the extent of Marcus’ transformation, not that Tanis really
thought that she had. Killing was Selene’s forte, not deceit. In many
ways, she was the most honest vampire he knew, and this time was no
exception.

Marcus had indeed become an abomination.

The Elder came between Tanis and his armory. Panic
overcame the cowardly historian. He scrambled in the opposite direction,
into one of the many underground catacombs connected to the cellar. The
echo of his own footsteps pursued him as he raced randomly through the
tunnels. Hanging cobwebs brushed against him, clinging to his face and
hands. Rats scurried away from his slippered feet. He sucked at the
musty air, unaccustomed to such exertion. His robe tangled awkwardly
around his legs. A stitch in his side felt like a dagger in his flesh.

Tanis wished that he had never heard the word
hybrid.

He rounded a corner, then another, then another. It was
like a maze down here, he reminded himself. Perhaps he could lose Marcus
in this murky subterranean labyrinth?

“Hello, Tanis,” said the Elder, directly in front of
him.

Tanis suddenly found himself face-to-face with Marcus.
How?
Yelping in fright, he spun around and
took off back the way he had come. Almost by accident, he stumbled back
into the wine cellar. A long wooden table, laid out with copper plates
and goblets, gave him something to lean against. Exhausted, he wasted a
few precious seconds catching his breath.

“Tanis…”

He started, almost losing his balance. He turned around
to see Marcus standing at the other end of the table.

“You seem anxious,” the Elder said. “Why do you flee
from the very sight of me?”

Tanis was too frightened to form a coherent response. He
stepped nervously away from the table.

Marcus flashed him a predatory smile. He took a seat and
politely motioned for Tanis to do the same. “Please, sit. There’s no
need for this to be unpleasant. I’ve always rather enjoyed your
company.” Tanis hesitated, and glanced toward his recently depleted
armory. The Elder’s voice took on a more threatening edge. “Now you’re
being rude.”

“Sorry.” Tanis sat down at the opposite end of the
table, as far from Marcus as possible. This appeared to satisfy the
Elder, who nodded approvingly.