Chapter Fifty-Eight
Kyan
KYAN STOOD IN THE CARNAGE OF VERIN’S BLOOD LIbrARY A few hours later, a cold mix of guilt and anger torquing his stomach.
Afternoon light streamed over the shattered vials of blood, splintered shelves, and mangled scientific instruments. Around him, members of the Wake’s clean-up squad worked, masked and gloved.
Someone – he didn’t yet know who – had reported the Vampire’s death to the Wake, which was why the squad had arrived. If he’d had it his way, there would be no one else here, and Kyan and Callum could inspect the place themselves.
But the Wake had got here first.
Callum had called him a mere ten minutes after the Palmers left to travel to Scotland, so Kyan had flown back to England, his mind a dark snarl of disbelief.
Now, Callum’s sharp gaze assessed the damage. Though, damage was a pale word for the decimation of the Vampire’s beloved library.
Amid it, Verin lay sprawled over the painting of his murdered partner. He must have hauled it off the wall in his last moments.
And in his blood, he’d drawn a triskelion.
The image got Kyan by the throat. Rage followed with such intensity he wanted to break something.
There wasn’t just Verin’s blood in here. The Vampire had fought enough that his nails were coated in it, as if he’d dug deep and managed to tear the skin of the mutated Empyreal. Kyan’s gut told him this had been an Alexander kill.
But how had Verin managed to even scratch Alexander when Callum had barely managed to slow him down?
He got his answer when he spotted Elisabetta’s vial, empty and smashed.
Verin must have tried some of the goddessblood. But what had it done to him? Evidently, it had given him enough strength to make a mark on Alexander, but not kill him. And not save himself.
Because Verin hadn’t consumed enough of it? Or, because it wasn’t made to be drunk by beings other than Empyreals?
Kyan gathered his mind. Tried to think. They didn’t have long, even though Callum had Influenced everyone here who was taking pictures and bagging evidence to not report their presence.
Vultures. They were fucking vultures, combing through Verin’s life’s work, ready to pack it up and do gods-only-knew-what with it all.
Destroy it? Hide it away for the rest of time?
He hadn’t been able to Influence them all to leave, or the Wake would have realised someone unauthorised had been here. But this, they could do.
Be here.
‘Where are the other vials?’ Kyan asked as Callum came back out of Verin’s lab space.
‘Gone. Ours, and theirs.’
The Huntbringer sample, and the sample from Nicole’s mother’s painting.
He couldn’t form a curse vicious enough.
Kyan had called Verin after they discovered Alexander was the Huntbringer to try and see if he could separate the divine blood from Alexander’s system – reclaim it somehow.
But he hadn’t answered. Evidently, this was why.
That might have been their only answer to getting enough goddessblood to summon the goddess, or protect whatever Empyreal would do the transformation to kill the Wake’s leaders.
Now it was gone, which meant finding his torc was their last and safest option.
‘I should have expected they’d come after him,’ Kyan said, running a hand through his hair and fisting it.
‘No, I should have,’ Callum said. ‘The private menace told me to stop bothering him. I should have stayed.’
Kyan had told Callum of the goddessblood; that Alexander was the Huntbringer. That the Druid girl claimed to be his sister, and that the Fomóiri were the ones running the Wake.
He’d never seen such cold rage in his friend’s eyes. A dozen emotions had flitted through them before they winked out like the cosmos, a kind of hollow, immortal darkness replacing it. Concern had stirred in Kyan’s stomach.
‘Did she say anything else?’ Callum had asked, his tone – off.
Kyan had assured him there was nothing more, but Callum had been silent for so long Kyan had grown concerned. Even now, a wicked echo still radiated off him like a forcefield as his mind worked.
The question remained: was Verin killed because he was helping them, or because he was onto something?
‘You might want to check on Luca,’ Kyan said quietly, concerned for the Nazen. ‘Elisabetta, if we can.’
‘Someone is killing anyone that gives us information,’ Callum said darkly. ‘I’ll check on them. I know some people in Italy.’
‘If the Wake are onto us to this degree, why wouldn’t they have tried to stop us? Hauled us in already? Why kill the people we move on from?’
‘They’re playing a game a few millennia in the making,’ Callum said, scanning the room again. ‘They always have. To have survived in secret since the time of the gods …’ There was that wipeout of rage again, the pulse of power and fury.
‘I hate games,’ Kyan said. It was one of the many reasons he hadn’t got as involved in court life as he could have when he was young, back when he hadn’t had any real idea of the horrors awaiting.
Games were murky. Manipulative. He preferred to know who wanted him dead, so he could face it head on.
Not scheme and wait and wage wars that killed countless innocents.
Callum made a thoughtful noise. ‘I know. It’s a good thing I play them well enough for the both of us. Speaking of, you should see this,’ he said, leading Kyan back into Verin’s adjoining lab room.
The scent of blood and astringent cleaning concoctions stung his nose. While there were many books and scribbled notes, one book lay open atop the others, its gilding and Irish designs drawing Kyan closer. He looked down at the illustrated three drops of blood.
Then Callum nudged the book aside to reveal that underneath it was a message written in blood.
DIVINO ARTISTA: A MASTERPIECE IN BLOOD.
‘Divine artist,’ Callum mused behind him. ‘Verin referred to the blood from the painting as a masterpiece.’
‘Do you think this was him trying to tell us he’d figured out it was goddessblood?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Callum mused. ‘But we can’t leave it here.’
Kyan nodded, and while Callum distracted the crew, he took the book and wiped away the message with bleach.
There was only one thing to do: avenge him.
Verin hadn’t deserved to die like this.
Neither had the Druids.
Neither had Nicole’s mother.
And Kyan knew exactly who he’d offer the Wake’s head to when he finally cut it off.
But first, they had one last item to find and ten days left to do it.