A Secret to Die For (Secret McQueen) (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-Two

“
Lucas.
” I rushed to the edge but was knocked back by the wall of hot air that belched up from the newly created hole.

Pulling my shirt over my face, I moved closer again, but the fire licked up, making it impossible for me to see. So much fire. There was nothing I could do.

Nothing.

The floor beneath me groaned again, and I realized if we didn’t get out of here, Genie and I would be following right behind Lucas, totally negating his sacrifice. He’d saved Genie’s life.
Twice.
I wanted to go after him, because something inside me refused to believe he was dead.

Lucas was invincible. He was a werewolf king. He was too stubborn to die. Surely I’d get down to the lobby and find him there, chuckling about how he’d built some kind of a fail-safe into the hotel to transport him safely to the main floor.

He’d saved my sister’s life, and the last thing I’d wanted to say to him was,
Come on, you idiot, stop showing off.

I hadn’t even gotten a chance to say that.

My breath caught in my throat as the darkness of the truth settled over me. The hole in the floor crackled like the mouth of hell, spewing forth fire and raining white-hot debris as it began to eat through the floor above us.

Bring him back,
I demanded, staring at the hole.

Rewind. Undo. Go back.

I tried them all, command after command, both simple and complicated, all while I waited and prayed. He would come through the hole, a little dirty and bruised, but he
would
come back.

The longer I waited, the more I recalled every nasty, awful thing I’d ever said to him. Every fight we’d had—and there were plenty to choose from. My whole body trembled, overcome with the fear I might not be able to save him now because the universe somehow mistook my cruelty for a lack of caring. Maybe the fates, or God, or whoever was in charge of doing this, thought I didn’t
want
it enough.

Bile churned in my guts. This was all wrong. I was supposed to have time to say goodbye.
I
was the one who was supposed to die.

“Get up, get up. You come back to me, you stupid asshole.” Tears streamed down my face, superheated by the blast furnace we were now standing in. Logically, I understood no one could have survived falling into that fire. He probably hadn’t had time to feel it. He wouldn’t have suffered like Morgan had.

But I couldn’t accept it. Logical or not, it didn’t matter.

Lucas couldn’t die here.

“Come back to me,” I whispered, trying every command I could think of to undo what had happened. None of them worked. The fire burned, and time ticked on, and Lucas Rain was gone. “Come back.”

More of the floor fell away, bringing the fire closer to us, and as the heat turned my tears to steam and singed my eyelashes, I knew I couldn’t change what had happened. I couldn’t bring him back, because he
was
gone. He’d given himself to save Genie, just as I would have, and if I didn’t save her now, his sacrifice was for nothing.

With one last pleading look at the growing hole, I turned around and grabbed Genie by the wrist, racing towards the stairs at the end of the hall. The floor beneath us felt flimsy, as though we were running on a waterbed. When we reached the concrete stairwell, it was cloudy with black smoke, but the heat was less intense. Keeping one hand on Genie’s wrist so I knew she was still with me, I ran down the stairs, all the while hoping I was wrong about Lucas.

Maybe my commands
had
worked. Maybe he would be waiting for us when we got to the lobby. It was that foolish hope, along with the need to get my sister out of this living hell, that kept me moving forward.

We reached the lobby a few minutes later and found it empty, the one remaining chandelier swinging precariously, and the walls all crumbling to black dust.

“Outside,” I commanded, though I don’t know why I bothered since I was dragging her along behind me. I spared a last glance back to make sure we weren’t leaving anyone behind, and it wasn’t until we got to the safety of the sidewalk outside that a final thought caught up with me.

We had left someone behind.

Someone terribly important.

Lucas.

We’d run almost two blocks before we found the rest of the group, all huddled together in a small, iron-fenced park. I let go of Genie, and she staggered towards a bench, where Cedes found her and went immediately to her side to check her injuries. O’Brian, demonstrating he must have children of his own, sat next to my sister and took her small hand in his large one, and started telling her a sweet story about his past to distract her from Cedes’s attempts at first aid.

I looked at everyone and mentally counted our numbers, but the tally came up short.

Two short. Morgan and Lucas wouldn’t be coming.

My hands shook and I sank to the ground, my whole body reduced to hard, aching tremors. Arms encircled me, and the taste of lime in my mouth told me without looking it was Desmond holding me.

“I couldn’t save him,” I gasped, my voice trembling so badly it took me three tries to get the words out. “I tried, but I couldn’t do it. It happened too fast.”

It was Dominick who first understood who we were missing. “Where’s Lucas?” he asked, though the tone in his voice told me he already knew the answer.

I began sobbing anew, and each lime-infused breath reminded me I would never again taste Lucas’s cinnamon flavor. He would never annoy me or be there for me to cuss at. He was well and truly gone.

Burying my face against Desmond’s chest, I cried until there was no energy left in me to cry. I cried not only for Lucas, but for Keaty, whose death I had tried to keep from feeling until right then. I cried for everyone lost, and everything I hadn’t been able to save. I wept until it hurt inside my bones, because I thought, foolishly, I could save the world.

But I couldn’t even save one man.

“Secret, you have to breathe.” Desmond stroked my hair and whispered against my scalp. He wiped away my tears and held my face so I had to look at him. “Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Where’s Lucas?” Dominick asked again.

I couldn’t explain what had happened, so I gave them an abbreviated version of the events. I painted Morgan as every inch the villain she was, but left out any part Genie had played. I didn’t know whether or not her spell had been what caused the floor to weaken, and it didn’t matter now. There was no need for anyone else to think she might have been responsible, especially not her.

If she remembered anything that had occurred when her magic took her over, she didn’t let it show. She seemed satisfied with the version of the story I told the others.

Desmond helped me up, and though I was still shaken, I knew I couldn’t let myself be demolished by this. I’d survived, I’d saved Genie, and though we hadn’t walked away unscathed, and I hadn’t gotten through this without any losses, I was still here. Everyone surrounding me had pulled through, and though my grief wanted to pull me under, I understood we weren’t done here yet.

“Did we get them all?” I was proud my voice sounded unbroken and almost strong. I could fake my way through this. There was no sense in getting bogged down now, because if Aubrey had his way, I’d be joining Lucas and Keaty before the night was done.

The group quickly confirmed their individual missions had all proven successful, and the targets had been wiped out according to plan. At least something had gone the way we’d hoped.

“We took out one of the twins at the castle,” I added, switching into battle mode and shutting out the emotional center of my brain. I wiped the last of my tears away with the back of my hand. “If we’ve figured this all out right, that means there are only three of them left. And seeing as there are a few hundred dead walking around not far from here, I don’t think we’ll have to look too hard to find them.”

“The Seven Sisters are out.” Sutherland, who remained oblivious to any of the anguish I’d just experienced, was staring up at the night sky, reading it like it was the pages of a book.

I’d completely forgotten about the Seven Sisters. So much had happened since Sutherland had proven he wasn’t completely crazy, the last thing on my mind had been figuring out what the remaining Viking twin, Marty, was keeping guard over. But now that I was reminded, I knew finding it was not only the key to killing one of the last three necros, but also to understanding why they’d come here in the first place.

As far as I was concerned, it had never been a random act, no matter what Holden had thought about them being anarchists or just set on destruction. But what the hell were the Seven Sisters, and why were they so important to a gang of necromancer bikers?

I suspected the mission had more to do with Marcela, their fearsome leader, than it did with the typical goals of a biker gang. This wasn’t about drugs, and I doubted it was about money. What did that leave?

“What’s ’e talkin’ ’bout?” Nolan asked. He and my father had an uneasy past, and I don’t think Nolan had a lot of trust in Sutherland.

“Before we took out the necros at the castle, they had an argument we overheard. Sounds like they’re here for something they called the Seven Sisters, and one of them is guarding it. Probably with a small army.”

“Well, if it’s important to them, and they obviously know now we’re coming for them, won’t they all be there?” This from O’Brian, who had remained largely quiet in our group discussions up until now.

Come to think of it, he was right. We had passed a large group of risen bodies on our way to the hotel, but not enough to account for the three remaining necromancers.

“That doesn’t help us narrow things down at all, does it?” Tyler said, pacing the small park. He had his phone out and was glaring at the screen like it was the face of a good friend who’d betrayed him. I knew how helpless he felt. He’d gotten used to having the FBI at his back, and right now we had no way to reach out to Emilio or the FBI task force set up in Jersey. If we could, they might be able to tell us what we were looking for.

We needed someone who knew things.

“We have to go,” I announced, shifting direction with a sudden wave of clarity. “There’s no time to waste.”

“Go where? You know what they’re after?” Dominick asked.

“No, but I know someone who might.”

“Who?”

“I have to go to Starbucks.” I was barely paying attention to their questions and was halfway out of the park, scouring the street for a sign of one of the motorcycles we’d stolen.

“Is now really the best time for a latte?” O’Brian piped in. I kept forgetting not everyone knew about the folklore of the city.

Sig knew what I was up to right away. “I don’t know if this is the best idea.”

“Sure it is.”

He caught up to me easily and didn’t try to stop me, but kept pace as I half-jogged towards my new destination.

“She may not be as helpful as you think.”

I stopped abruptly, and he mirrored me, never missing a beat. “You’re all powerful. You can keep me from going to her if you really want to. It’s just one command.
Secret, stay.
Like you’d tell a dog. That’s all you need to do and I won’t go.” I glared at him, challenging him to try to manipulate me. After my experience with controlling Genie, I wondered how many of the others I could handle at will. Was Aubrey’s power greater than Sig’s?

I hoped he wouldn’t make me find out.

“You’re different,” he said quietly.

“Don’t worry,” I replied after a pause, seeing that the others had begun to follow us. “I won’t be like this for long.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Someone had driven a car through the front window of Calliope’s Starbucks.

Inside, the small tables were toppled and the floor was littered with empty paper cups and stale muffins. The cash register had been knocked over, and a heap of change spread across the counter.

Looters, it seemed, had no interest in nickels.

“I can’t bring everyone,” I announced solemnly. “But this shouldn’t take long.”

“That’s what you said about the trip to the council,” Tyler reminded me.

I hoped it wouldn’t take long. With Calliope it was hard to know what she would or wouldn’t tell me at any given time. I had asked her for my future more than once, but she’d never told me anything like this was coming. I just wanted her to explain where I could find the Seven Sisters, and if anyone was going to be able to do that, it would be the Oracle.

She knew almost everything after all. It was only a matter of asking her the right questions.

Since the bulk of the necromancers had been taken care of, most of the vampires had returned to the council, leaving only a half-dozen extra bodies with us.

“Werewolves and humans, you’ll need to wait here. Vampires too. Except Sig and Holden, you’re coming with me.”

“Me?” Sig asked, exhibiting a rare display of surprise. “If you think that’s wise, you’ve gone mad.”

Sig and Calliope went way back. All the way back to the Renaissance, when they’d been a hot-and-heavy item. He’d broken her heart in a spectacular fashion, leaving her still bitter about it hundreds of years later. He was actually banned from her mansion, and bringing him with me was a gamble.

But I needed her to understand how serious this was, and the only way I could think to do that was by including Sig. If she saw I’d brought him along, I hoped she would know I wasn’t playing games. In the grand scheme of things, a true immortal like Calliope wouldn’t care what was happening to the human world. Empires collapsed all the time—she’d seen dozens of them come and go. One more would not upset her. Like Aubrey, the goings-on of humans were a passing source of occasional amusement to Calliope.

It mattered a great deal to me though. And if Aubrey was able to understand that, I hoped Calliope could too.

If not, you burn her.

I stopped short of the door as a chill crept through me. That thought had not been my own. Never in a million years would I imagine taking revenge on Calliope if she didn’t help me. Cal was a friend. She was a complicated, strange creature who defied understanding most days, but she definitely wasn’t someone I wished ill on.

Where had such a nasty thought come from?

My skin crawled as I realized the magic was getting the best of me already. Aubrey’s warning was being realized. He’d told me the power would eat away at me from the inside out, but deep down I hadn’t believed him.

I tried to call up my wolf, as I’d done dozens of times before. She was an entity, a creature unto herself that lived inside my body. We shared an uneasy peace, and sometimes she respected me while other times she cursed her luck at being stuck with me. But she almost always came up when I called.

Now there was nothing. I felt no brush of fur, no sizzle of energy. Where once I’d felt a living, breathing creature, there was nothing but an empty pit inside me. From deep, deep within, there was a faint ringing, like a memory I couldn’t quite bring to the surface.

Aubrey told me the magic would steal my monsters, but I hadn’t thought it would happen so soon.

I had shut down my emotions so well I couldn’t feel anything over the loss of my werewolf. I had lost too much and had so many things to mourn, she was one more item on a growing list.

Taking a deep, shuddering sigh, I marched forward and took hold of the Starbucks door. It was locked, but I pulled anyway, thinking,
Open
. It yielded easily, swinging out and staying that way without me holding it. I stepped through, with Sig and Holden behind me, and a moment later we emerged in Calliope’s waiting room.

She was already standing there, wearing a vibrant red dress, with her long black hair streaming over her shoulders. Her red lipstick and wild eyes made her look like a fierce goddess of war, or a really scary version of Wonder Woman. She did not seem pleased to see me.

“What have you done?” Her voice was deep and serious.

“I know you don’t want him here, but—”

“I couldn’t care less about Sigvard.
What have you done?
” She grabbed me by both arms and shook me hard, my head bobbing back and forth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you take me for a fool, Secret? I can smell his power all over you. You reek of magic, and I can see him looking out at me.” Calliope grabbed my face and forced me to meet her angry gaze.

“If you already know, why are you asking?”

“You don’t understand, do you?”

“Understand what?”

She pushed my face away, disgusted. “You’ve given him exactly what he wants. And what’s more, you’ve brought him into
my
home. The only creature I want here less than that vampire is my brother, and you’ve let him come in, all snuggled up inside you.”

“What’s she talking about?” Holden asked.

“Did you think she was suddenly gifted with magic, young vampire?” Calliope rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you question it when she was able to cheat death and had the power to burn her way through a flock of the dead? Didn’t that strike you as
strange
?”

“Goddammit,” Sig snarled. He’d figured it out. “You’ve made a deal with the devil himself, Secret. Why?”

I stepped away from the lot of them, angry with them for making me the bad guy when I’d done it all to save them. If they thought this had been an easy choice for me, they were kidding themselves. “
Stop.
All of you need to stop yelling at me, because it’s not going to change anything. Aubrey gave me his power, and I took it. I didn’t see any other way.”

“Dying would have been preferable,” Sig said.

“Don’t worry, Sigvard,” Calliope added coldly. “She intends to.”

So much for keeping my exit strategy a secret until the end. I glanced at Holden. This wasn’t how I’d pictured telling him, but maybe it was good that he was finding out now.

“What is she
talking
about?” he asked, his voice no longer calm. “This is insane. We came here to ask a question, and now you’re talking about deals with the devil and Secret dying?”

“I warned you about him,” Calliope went on, ignoring Holden’s outburst. “I told you to be careful, and you did just the opposite. How could you be so stupid?”

“Don’t call me stupid,” I snapped. “I did what I had to do. I knew what he was asking, and I’d do it again. So stop. You might not care what happens out there, but I do. And he offered me a way to protect my friends and my home. Why should I feel bad about that?”

“Because you were worth more. You had value beyond this place and these people. And now he’s stolen your future.” Calliope dropped her arms to her sides, and now instead of looking angry, she just seemed sad.

“I would have stayed and fought anyway. I probably would have died. And don’t get haughty with me about it, because you know I would have.” Their anger was frustrating me. I hadn’t expected them to throw a party when they found out what I’d done, but for some reason I hadn’t imagined they’d all be so mad at me.

She frowned.

I plowed ahead. “So tell me. You, who has seen the end. Is it any different now? Will I still die standing by someone I love?” My voice trembled, but I caught myself before dissolving into tears. “That’s what you said to me, do you remember?”

“You are so very loved, Secret. By those in this room, and those waiting outside. There was never a scenario where you wouldn’t be next to someone who loved you in the end.” She crossed the room and stood in front of me, picking up my hands and turning the palms face up. The difference in my two lifelines—one long and one short—seemed more apparent to me now than it ever had before. “But you’ve finally made your choice. I suppose I can’t be mad at you for that.”

Calliope kissed the palm with the shorter lifeline before curling both my hands into fists.

“I did what I had to do,” I said again, the excuse sounding flimsier every time I used it.

“The moment a mortal life begins it is destined to end. I have known you would die as soon as you stepped into my life. But I admit I am not ready.”

“You and me both.” I tried, and failed, to smile.

“You’ve lived bravely, my dear. Foolishly, but with strength and honor. I have never counted myself so privileged to know a mortal being.” She touched my cheek, more gently this time. “But you are a stupid, stubborn girl for thinking Aubrey’s way was the only way.”

“I already owed him. And a promise is a promise. You know how these things work.”

“A promise to die is a foolish promise indeed.” She sighed. “Show me this sword he is hell-bent on possessing.”

I didn’t bother to ask how she knew the sword was part of Aubrey’s bargain. If she knew I intended to die, she must already have a great deal of insight into what I had planned. Withdrawing the katana from the sling on my back, I held it out to her, and she took it tentatively.

“There is a lot of death on this blade.”

“Well, yeah.”

“But this sword is very special, do you know that?”

She wasn’t the first person to tell me so. A great number of fae had made a lot of fuss over the blade in the years I’d had it, and it had performed a few tricks I didn’t think a basic sword was capable of. No mere katana could unlock a demon from its human vessel. A simple sword could not do the things this one had.

“I know.”

“And you are special for having wielded it this long. This weapon is not known to stay so consistently with one master. You have pleased it, even when you’ve tainted it.”

“Maybe it liked being tainted.”

“Indeed.” She frowned, then bent down and placed a kiss on the blade, as she’d done on my palm. “May yours be the last undead life it takes, the last cold blood it drinks.”

As she handed it back, the weapon felt warm, the way it often did when it was ready for a fight. No normal sword craved battle the way this one did. For the first time I wondered if it
was
just a sword, or if there was something or someone else making it do what it did. I slipped it back into the scabbard and waited for Calliope to meet my eyes again.

“So you came to ask a question. Better ask it.”

“What are the Seven Sisters?”

“Not what, who,” she corrected.

I hadn’t thought we were looking for people. The way Parker and Bill had discussed the Sisters, it sounded like an object. Or several objects. They’d used the phrase
goods
.

“Who are they, then?”

“Who
were
they.” As always, it was a matter of asking Calliope the right questions, only now she was feeding them to me.

“Who were they?”

“The Seven Sisters were the wives of a great Italian alchemist named Giuseppe Mastropietro. These are not the same Seven Sisters of the Pleiades mythos, though there is often some confusion there, naturally. Giuseppe’s wives were all young, beautiful noblewomen. This was a time when alchemy was not mocked, but revered, and the families of these women believed they were destined to live lives of wealth and immortality. The ultimate goal of alchemy, as you know, is the ability to create gold and an elixir of eternal life.

“What many do not understand was the terrible outcome of the failed experiments these alchemists performed. Each of Giuseppe’s wives was little more than a lab rat to him. The philosopher’s stones he attempted to create—vessels for supposed eternal youth and immortality—were never quite right. They did not kill the women, but turned them into monsters, more living dead than truly alive. He would pretend they had passed naturally and would soon take a new wife. And so this continued for almost fifty years.

“It was his eighth and final wife, Marcela, who learned the truth, though history only claims he had seven wives. With Marcela, the experiment was a success. He created a true philosopher’s stone and the key to eternal life. But when he tried to take it from her, she killed him. She killed the other wives, as well, which was a great mercy at that point, since they were prisoners in their own bodies. She left their home in Napoli and took with her Giuseppe’s seven failed attempts at immortality.”

Marcela.

My heart stopped as the story sank in, and I glanced to Holden, who had been with me in the biker bar.

“What happened to the seven failed stones?” he asked.

“Over time, she sold them off. They had the appearance of fine jewelry, and as you can imagine, a woman with immortality in front of her comes to encounter expenses. It took her hundreds of years, but the necklaces were sold off and scattered. Only, recently, a young curator became quite interested in the gruesome story of Giuseppe, and has seen fit to bring all the necklaces together for a display.”

Of course.
Of course.
It all made sense now. Profound, hideous sense. Marcela, the biker bitch, was the same Marcela who had been granted immortality by her foolish alchemist husband however many centuries earlier. And now that she had an opportunity to reclaim her lost goods, she was bound and determined to get them, whatever the cost.

“You said the other necklaces made his wives like the living dead,” Holden said. “Is that how she is able to do what she does?”

Calliope shook her head. “Necromancy predates Giuseppe’s experiments. It is older than modern society, and it will continue to be practiced long after she is dead and gone herself. I believe, though, her connection with the other wives may have made her better able to find those like her, those who can manipulate the dead. And being around his other wives, who were not alive but not dead, may have also been what helped her understand her gift. Regardless, the necklaces have nothing to do with necromancy. They are, however, dangerous and powerful in their own right, and I think it ill-advised that Marcela be allowed to have them back.”