Black Gate: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 4 (10 page)

“Brother. It’s good to see you.” Bran stepped forward and offered his arm in greeting.

“And you.” Teagh squeezed his brother’s arm tightly, then stepped away. Bran and he were of equal height and both built for war. But his father’s skin had been a rich, dark cocoa, while Bran’s father had been pale as the ice in his Nordic veins. Both sons’ attitudes matched their mother’s, an Immortal bitch still sitting pretty on the home world of Itara. Two brothers born less than a year apart. He and Bran had the same stubborn tenacity, same hatred for the Triscani, and the same blood oath binding them to this gods’ forsaken plan the last seven hundred years in service to their fallen brother, the Lost King.

When Teagh had first seen this little church, over six hundred years ago, it had been brand new, and covered in flowers for Bran’s wedding to a lovely mortal girl. The poor girl had died in childbirth less than a year later.

His brother had never been the same since. Teagh never said “I told you so”, but he’d tried to warn his brother that the cost of loving a mortal would be steep.

“Nice outfit.” Bran studied him critically, pausing to take in the circles under his eyes and the strange beach clothing he wore.

“Fuck off. I as in a hurry.”

“Are you well, brother? When was the last time you performed a purge?”

“A couple days.”

“You need one.”

“I know. I can take care of myself.” Normally, when he met his brother, he donned his old gear, the warrior’s uniform that he’d worn upon arrival. Today he hadn’t had the time. He still looked like a beach bum in shorts, sandals and a button up shirt. An exhausted, strung-out-over-a-woman kind of bum.

“Shall we check on Ajax first?” Bran scowled, his warrior’s attire the standard black uniform worn on the Archivers’ ship that orbited this planet. Over the uniform he wore a long black coat to hide his sword. “I know there’s been no sign of Droghan, but I don’t like it.”

“Yes.” Teagh called on the power of the Gate to summon a dark portal and his brother followed him through it.

Teagh and Bran had formed the dark room they stepped into over seven hundred years ago, the day they’d come back through time. Ajax lay on the bed, shackled and chained, as he had for centuries. Hate still burned from his eye sockets, rage still etched deep lines in the Lost King’s face, and insanity still consumed him.

Ajax truly was lost, but not in the way the other Immortals believed him to be. The King had ashed over a hundred Hunters in the final battle, trying to save his Queen. They’d killed her anyway, and Ajax had become one of the monsters he’d fought so hard to defeat.

Ajax was Triscani now. And it seemed that no matter how much evil seeped to Bran or Teagh through their blood bond with the King, it would never be enough to cleanse his soul. No matter how much of the darkness they took from him, it was never enough.

Bran stepped forward and bent over to look Ajax in the eye. “Good to see you, Ajax.”

“Get out. Both of you.”

“Sorry, Ajax. Our blood oath was to protect you, not obey you. You had enough idiots chasing you around doing that.” Teagh walked over to the three-dimensional projector they’d taken from the Archiver ship and changed the listing of images the King would view for the next few days. He switched out the musical selection, too. They’d tried everything, from Mozart to New Age music to hip hop. Nothing changed. Nothing affected their friend, but at least he wasn’t staring at the walls. If he weren’t insane already, isolation would cause it.

“Are you hungry?” Bran asked. Ajax rarely accepted any food or drink from them, but they asked every time. Between the flood of souls and the poison they used to hold him here, Teagh was surprised the King ate at all. They’d rigged a water container to the bed so he could drink water whenever he wanted it, but that, too, was largely ignored by the Immortal.

“Get out.”

“First, it’s story time.” Bran walked to the chair they had positioned next to his bed for their visits and picked up the latest novel. They’d read the King hundreds of books, from historical analysis to mysteries, to the human classics such as Shakespeare. They’d read him both human novels and Itaran. Usually the King ignored them, but they’d noticed that he paid more attention to human military and suspense thrillers. So, they screened the books carefully, made sure the protagonist was always a hero in the end, and that the good guys always won.

The fact that Ajax was their prisoner in this space beyond the Gate revealed that fantasy for the lie it was. But they couldn’t give up hope. Even if it took a millennia, eventually they would find a way to save their King. They had to. He deserved to live. And not suffer, an agonized, twisted shell of the male he’d once been. Ajax was the most loyal, honorable commander either Teagh or Bran had ever served. They loved him like a brother, and he’d loved them back.

Love. It seemed a romantic word for females and fools, but that was what kept him and Bran coming back to this darkened pit week after week for centuries. It was what kept them searching for a solution. They couldn’t give up on Ajax. Not after what the male had suffered for them, for all of Itara.

He’d saved them all, and lost his Marked Mate and his soul in the process.

Teagh settled against the wall to listen as Bran read from the book. He was both relieved and worried that there still seemed to be no sign of Droghan. Nothing was out of place. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed. They’d asked Ajax several times if that evil bastard had come to see him, but Ajax’s responses to any question was typically limited to a very small selection of words. “Get out.” “Fuck you.” Or “Leave me.”

When they’d hidden the Lost King, they’d thought they had the answer to the Triscani problems that continued to haunt humans on Earth. No such luck. Even with the King missing, the Triscani fervor for chaos and killing had escalated. They’d murdered millions of humans over the centuries. They hadn’t killed Ajax, but, in the end, the Triscani had managed to take him out of commission. It didn’t matter much that the Lost King wasn’t dead, the forbidden son, their King, wished he were.

And still the Triscani hunted and killed humans with an obsessive zeal. Teagh believed they were hunting for a very specific person, and that person had to be human, or of human descent. They had to be hunting the Timewalkers. Droghan had practically said as much when he’d attacked Teagh in his home last month. Otherwise, why kill millions upon millions of humans? Famines. Plagues. Wars. The Triscani had orchestrated many deaths, and still they hunted. Could they be looking for Katherine? Did they need her to control the Gates? The possibility burned through him. Of the few Archivers and other Immortals who could open portals, most only had the strength to move one, perhaps two people through it. And even then, they needed time to recover. With Katherine controlling the Gates, they could move an army instantly anywhere in the world.

Over his dead body.

Bran closed his book and nodded to Teagh. Time to go. They had business to discuss.

“We’ll see you soon, Ajax. Stay out of trouble.” Teagh started the music and image gallery before summoning the portal that would take him and Bran back to the small abandoned church in Ireland.

They ignored Ajax’s cursing and stepped through. The moment they were clear of the dark, Bran turned on him.

“I have begun my hunt for the traitor on board our ship, but it will not be an easy one.”

Teagh agreed and did not envy Bran the task. “I am glad there is no sign of Droghan, but we still need to move Ajax. And if we can’t hide him in the dark, I don’t know how we can protect him. He’s too dangerous to bring to Earth’s plane.”

“We’ll figure something out. We can’t let Droghan have access to him. He’s suffering enough.”

“I agree. But that isn’t why I summoned you. right now I’ve got a bigger problem.”

Bran frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“Celestina didn’t tell you about the Gate?”

“No.”

Teagh paced the small space, the dust from the abandoned church’s stone floor stirring beneath his sandals. “The humans in the Casper Project have discovered a Gate and there are now two humans, that I know of, capable of using it.”

Bran’s eyes narrowed. “Did you kill them yet?”

Teagh shook his head.

“Why not?”

Teagh folded his knees and sank to sit on the alter steps. “I don’t know who the first is. I had to leave before I learned his identity. It was a boy. He felt young, perhaps a human teenager. I am not worried about him. He will be easy to track.” He cracked his neck and rolled his head around on his shoulders to try to relieve some of the tension his next words would cause him. “I can’t eliminate the other.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Bran rocked back on his heels, one eyebrow raised. Total calm. “Never mind. Just tell me where he is, and I’ll take care of it for you.” Bran’s hand rested on the short sword strapped to his side, and there was no compromise in the set of his shoulders. He knew what needed to be done. So did Teagh. He just couldn’t do it.

“He’s a she.” Teagh stared at his hands. “She’s a Timewalker. And Celestina knew.”

Complete and utter silence stretched for a full minute. Teagh figured even the birds outside must have sensed Bran’s fury. He waited patiently for Bran’s brain to start working again. He’d already asked all the questions he knew must be flying through Bran’s mind, and come up with no answers.

“Damn that Seer and her secrets. Who is the woman?” Bran sat down on the step next to him, shoulder to shoulder, as they had fought for centuries. Worry creased Bran’s brow.

“Her name is Katherine. She’s the Timewalker, Sarah’s, cousin.”

“Does she have a Marked Mate?”

“No.”

“Did she Mark you?”

“No.”

“Did you touch her? Skin to skin?”

Teagh thought of the kiss, and scowled. “Yes.”

Teagh faced forward, arms resting on his knees while the true horror of Teagh’s situation settled like a leaden cloak over both of them. Bran spoke first.

“You could seduce her. Try to take her Mark.”

“I can’t force my cursed blood onto a female. What if Ajax’s evil reached her?”

“Then eliminate her.”

“I can’t do it. She’s too damn beautiful. Too fragile and innocent.”

Bran had no answer for that. “Hell, brother. And I thought my life was fucked up.”

“It is.” Teagh slapped him on the back. “Speaking of Celestina, tell her I’d like to have a word with her when you get back up to the ship, since she’s the one who sent me after the human female in the first place.”

“She omitted that information from her report to me.” Bran scowled now. “That woman is going to drive me insane.”

“I do my best.” Celestina stepped from the shadows. Her golden hair was braided to fall mid-thigh against a royal blue gown. Her face was as ethereal and lovely as ever. Bran stiffened beside him, but Teagh rose and offered her a quick bow by way of a greeting.

“Tina. Why are you here?” Teagh was in no mood for half answers from the Seer. Not today, when he’d held a woman’s life in his hands and cursed the gods a thousand different ways while trying to find the will to do his duty and break her neck.

“I had one of the others open a portal for me when I saw that you two were meeting and wished to speak with me.” Celestina looked innocent and fresh as rain, and he began to understand his brother’s frustration. Could no one control this female?

Bran coughed into his hand, hiding laughter.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Katherine was a Timewalker?”

Celestina’s gaze dropped to Bran for the smallest moment before she raised her glacier-blue eyes to his. “I didn’t know she carried enough genetic material to manifest a Mark. I thought her a genetically diluted descendant, nothing more.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Teagh bit back his anger and kept his tone civil. Barely. The darkness inside him rose like a tsunami, riding his frustration and helplessness like a surfer on a big wave.

Bran rose to his feet and stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the petite Seer. “Back off until you have control of yourself.”

Her small hand wrapped around Bran’s arm gently to tug him aside. Teagh took pity on the poor bastard and stepped back, giving them both some room.

“Bran, you know I would never hurt Celestina. I just need to know why she asked me to kill a Timewalker.”

Celestina stepped out to stand beside her protector. The hem of her gown brushed Bran’s boots. Teagh swore his brother’s jaw locked when she spoke. “I’m sorry, Teagh. I vow to you, I did not know.”

Bran’s words were muffled by gritted teeth. “You’re losing control, Teagh. I feel the power consuming you from the inside out. You have to kill her. The risk to the Gate is too great.”

“That is what I told you to do, Teagh. I warned you.” Celestina’s small voice echoed with sadness in the enclosed stone sanctuary. Sunlight filtered into the shadowed space in beams through cracks in the ancient roof and gave the room an otherworldly glow. It felt wrong to speak of murder in the humans’ place of divine worship.

“She didn’t Mark you. You can’t take it from her. Better to kill her now,” Bran agreed.