Call of the Raven (14 page)

“No one has called me that since Grant. Do
you remember what he used to call us?”

“The dueling presidents.” She smiled and then
let it fade. “Come on Nixon, what’s up? You’re acting all jittery.
There’s no one coming after us.”

It wasn’t like Nixon to get emotional. But
what he was currently going through wasn’t something his ego felt
that he could explain. “Nothing’s wrong, I didn’t mean to scare
you.” His gaze fell to where she carried both rats inside her coat.
“How is the brat pack?”

“I’m not sure,” she shrugged, “at least
they’re both warm.”

Smiling flirtatiously he said, “I would be
too if I were inside your coat.”

Kennedy rolled her eyes and then tilted her
nose upward and sniffed the wind. “I smell car exhaust on the wind.
Linn must be close, come on we need to get the twins to her so she
can get Casin to the doc. I’m worried about her.”

Nixon revved the motor and Kennedy wrapped
her arms around his waist again. He liked the way her arms felt
around him as they zoomed over the snow. The drive had yet to be
plowed so Nixon bounced over a sizable snow drift and headed for
the front gate. He geared down the motor and skidded recklessly to
the right, yet again.

Kennedy shrieked behind him and laced her
fingers together to stop from flying off. She was about to give him
a good cussing, he could tell, when her words suddenly broke off.
At that point he knew she had looked over his shoulder and seen the
wolf too.

In the middle of the road the grey stood
staring straight at them. Tipping its head back, the wolf howled a
very lonely howl which sent strange vibes through Nixon.

“My jewel, its glowing Nixon,” Kennedy
whispered. Nixon glanced over his shoulder. In the palm of her hand
she held the blue jewel that she always wore around her neck, a
gift from Grant, and a light clearly radiated from inside. At the
sound of her gasping, he spun around to see Linn’s rented Yukon
coming straight for them but there was no sign of the wolf.

***

The manor was
dark, too dark. It had
an ominous feel. Not even the light in his office was on—the one
Asher refused to turn off, since he was surprised by the key
seeking intruder. He climbed off the back of the snowmobile feeling
stronger now that he was away from the strange magic draining man.
He pushed Ari’s extended hand of assistance out of the way, and
started walking in the direction of the door.

Midway there he stopped to examine prints
left behind in the snow. There were none behind him just the ones a
few feet from the porch where the fowlers had shifted and walked
right up the steps. Their intentions were preplanned. They weren’t
fleeing him back at the cabin. They knew that without him inside,
Lake Manor was unprotected.

Screaming out in rage, Asher rushed the door
and kicked it. The strength of the blow caused the door to bound
off the wall and slammed shut once more. Ari stood close behind
him. He put a hand on his arm. There was no point in waiting on
Nixon and Kennedy now. Asher could sense that there was no one
inside.

Pulling away from his brother, Asher stepped
into the parlor. Furniture was overturned, a painting of him had
been slashed several times across the face, and every artifact on
display or hung, had been relieved of their positions, broken or
shattered, and thrown to the ground.

Each room on the bottom floor was pretty much
in the same disrepair, but Asher didn’t care much for anything on
the first floor. He didn’t care about the antique heirlooms or the
million dollar Ming vase lying in pieces upon the marble entry.
Instead he headed for the stairs and started up. Near the top he
stopped and clutched the wood banister until his knuckles became
white. With each deep breathe he took, he searched for focus and
strength but none came.

The sound of a snowmobile neared outside, and
within seconds footsteps crunched over snow. Kennedy entered behind
Nixon, her face ashen white and stricken with the same kind of
shock that had incapacitated Ari the moment he stepped into the
manor.

“
Ari, I need you
,” the words were
spoken in silence but Ari all too clearly heard. Instantly without
question, he dropped the remnants of the Ming vase, and started up
after Asher.

Together they walked to the office only to
stop once they stood on the threshold. Ari took in the wrecked
office and slowly started across the room. The couch was on its
side, the once locked drawers of the file cabinets were pulled out
and the contents—important papers pertaining to Lake Inc. were
emptied onto the mayhem that littered the floor.

Asher entered the room, stepping over the
papers and the books that once lined the bookcases to reach the
other side. Most of the books were first editions and should never
be treated in such a manner. The majority of his belongings could
be replaced, but it was the things that couldn’t that frightened
him.

Smoke began to fill the room, something
burned in the fireplace. As Nixon and Kennedy hurried to inspect
what it was, Ari followed Asher inside the secret archives closet,
where the history books pertaining to the Union were kept. The
bookcase had been slid aside to expose its location, but unlike the
chaos that had befallen his office, this room was untouched.

Ari ran a finger along a shelf that contained
the most recent of volumes. “Even the dust is where we left it,” he
commented.

“And yet someone has been here all the same.”
Asher could feel it, a threat lingering on the stagnant air. He
could sense the danger and the smell nauseated him.

“Someone threw Edgar Allan Poe in the fire
and the flue was closed,” Kennedy announced from behind them, then
after a somewhat surprised gasp continued in the same breath, “what
is this place?”

“Wow, it’s the room of the ancient volumes,
our history,” Nixon answered sounding just as surprised.

“I’ve been told of its existence since I was
a girl,” Kennedy said, looking around, “but I never truly believed
that it did—that in one room contained all the knowledge we could
ever desire to know about us, about our history, and here it was
all along.” Her gaze came to a rest accusingly on Asher.

“You didn’t know Kennedy,” Nixon retorted,
“because despite the fact we are Pillar protégés the Council never
believed us worthy or important enough to know—and what is that God
awful smell?”

Asher had already deciphered the smell
seconds before turning the corner but since they had yet to see the
matter of his distress, he gestured over his shoulder. Allowing
anyone to see his vulnerability wasn’t something he typically did,
but then his current condition wasn’t exactly something Asher knew
how to control.

The case that contained the Keeper’s creed
was in the far corner of the room. A ray of moonlight shone through
a meticulously ornate stained glass window which painted the room
in an unnatural red and blue hue. The hair on the back of his neck
pricked, goose bumps rose on the surface of his arms, and his heart
began to race. With each beat and each step he took, Asher could
feel his strength ebbing.

Staked on an opened page by a silver dagger
was the source of the smell, a pup fetus. Behind him Kennedy let
out a startled scream. Blood dripped down the dagger and pooled on
the brittle page.

Asher knew the page.

He understood the meaning.

Quickly spinning away, he hurried to his
room.

The cook had served him something for lunch
he wasn’t sure of and regrettably it looked the same floating on
the water as it did on his plate that afternoon. And that thought
just made him all the sicker. When there was nothing left in his
stomach to throw up, Asher flushed the toilet and sat in the corner
of the bathroom with knees drawn to his chest, far too exhausted to
move.

He need not look up. With the bond reopened
he not only sensed Ari coming, he could feel his anxiety. In time
Asher would learn how to manage the connection but at the present,
his strength of body as well as mind was gone. Ari crossed the
bathroom floor and filled a Dixie cup with water and brought it to
Asher, along with a wet cloth.

“Drink this brother. It will make you feel
better.” Lowering down on his haunches, Ari watched him as he drank
the water and used the cloth to wipe his face, then mouth.

“I’ve never understood how someone so tough
can be so weak.” The expression on Ari’s face reminded Asher of the
way he looked at him when they were younger, before things got
complicated. “You can kick the behinds of ten men by yourself, but
then crumble at the sight of blood. It doesn’t make sense.” With
the bathroom suddenly warm Asher unzipped the parka and Ari pulled
it off his arms.

“I’m hemophobic Ari,” Asher exhaled. “It’s
not something I can control, nor am I proud of.” When Ari remained
quiet, Asher peered up at him. “I guess you assumed I wouldn’t
come.” The smile tended to fade on his brothers lips all too
quickly with his words.

“Honestly Asher I hoped you would but—”

“You needn’t say anything else,” Asher cut
him off and with Ari’s help he stood and went to his room. Sitting
down on the bed, Asher put a hand to his head since the room was
spinning. With the parka in hand, Ari crossed to the closet. “I
know how you feel about me, how everyone feels about me,” Asher
softly spoke. “You don’t believe I’m capable of a generous bone.
But I meant what I said at the cabin. You’re my brother and I had
no intention of not coming. I’ll always protect you.”

Exhaling, Ari walked back to the bed and
squatted down before him and started unlacing Asher’s boots.
“Asher, you’re in that crashing down state you always get in during
a magic drain.” He pulled off a boot and tossed it in the corner.
“And what are you talking about.
I’m
supposed to protect
you
but you took that away from me a long time ago.”

He pulled off his other boot and then helped
him into bed. “You took away my purpose and now you’ve gone and
opened the link again. Don’t you know how hard that’s going to be
for me if you don’t let me be what I’m supposed to?”

Ari walked to the dresser. He knew exactly
where Asher kept his things. Reaching in the third drawer Ari
removed the black shorts that he liked to sleep in and threw them
at him. The expression in his eyes was evident. Ari was struggling
with understanding.

“I appreciate all that you do for me,” Asher
told him, “but you’re not my servant.

Ari gestured toward his body. “No, I’m your
brother and despite your treatment of me I’ve always taken care of
you, but I’m not undressing you, spirit link or not. Now silliness
aside Asher, I need to know what’s going on…what’s really going on
here?”

Asher thought about that then slowly shook
his head. “I want to tell you Ari but the truth sometimes can hurt
people…people we wish to protect…people we care about.”

“Asher, please don’t shut me out again,” Ari
pleaded.

“I’ve never intentionally shut you out Ari. I
did what I was told.” Asher smiled bitterly. “However, in this
matter, I can only tell you what I know and that’s not a whole lot.
We can talk though,” he added quickly when he saw Ari’s mouth open,
ready to protest, “but first go have Kennedy take care of your
head. I have no magic left or I would heal you.” With his eyes
faltering closed Ari covered him up with the comforter.

“Thank you brother,” Ari said. “I’ll hold you
to those words. Get some rest. I’ll be back later to hear what you
have to say.”

***

Ari stood with
the small of his back
to the bathroom sink as Kennedy finished taping the last of his
bandage. Ever since she had entered and taken over he had avoided
her gaze, but those eyes were determined to be dealt with.

“Ari, I thought I lost you.”

“Kennedy please,” Ari pushed her gently back
by the arms as she moved in even closer. “We’ve been through this
countless times. I see you as—”

“A girl?” she cut him off.

“No, my little sister but yes that too.”

Turning his back to her, Ari collected the
unused bandages and antiseptic ointment and placed them back inside
the medical kit. When he started for the door, Nixon suddenly
appeared in front of him. His hands were covered in blood. Ari had
plans to return the kit to the cabinet in the hall, but tossing it
aside, he turned on both faucets knowing perfectly well what Nixon
had done.

“Get over here,” he ordered him. “I told you
I would clean it up.”

“I know but I had to check something out.”
Nixon crossed directly to the sink, but instead of putting his
bloody hands under the running water, he held them up before Ari.
“Take a whiff,” he insisted.

Ari had no problem smelling them. They
smelled strong of blood and something else—something of a chemical
nature which he assumed was getting the best of Nixon by his
current behavior.

“Nixon whatever you used to clean that up is
affecting you. Just wash up—”

“That smell is what I’m trying to get you to
notice. Come on Kennedy, you should know.”

Kennedy wrinkled her nose in disgust. Nixon
stood between them, hands up, dripping blood droplets on the white
tile floor. His eyes glistened and a small knowing smile was fixed
on his lips. “Nixon, have you lost your mind?” she gingerly asked
before Ari had the chance to.

“Well since you’ve felt the need to ask me
that question twice in the last couple hours, I’d have to say
there’s a strong chance that I have.” Nixon thrust his hands in her
direction. Kennedy let out a yelp and headed for the door. At that
point he looked at him. “How about you Ari or did I interrupt
something more important?”

Ari watched Nixon, how his brow curved
upwards in wait of an answer, while behind him Kennedy came to a
complete stop. Slowly she turned around just as Ari breathed in.
The smell was familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.