Flight of the Crow (3 page)

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Authors: Melanie Thompson

BOOK: Flight of the Crow
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But Fingle was deep into his hound self and could not obey her. Bryn was forced to acquiesce to Lazarus's demands. “Follow me,” she said tersely, turned her mare and trotted off toward
rue Danville
with Fingle trailing behind. When they reached her home, Fingle, now less a hound and more a man, took the mare to the mews after curling his lip and casting a glance filled with loathing at Lazarus.

“I will invite you in,” Bryn said feeling nothing but repugnance for the vampire. “But it is not an open invitation. You may come in this once and then I will ban you.”

Lazarus grinned, showing his lengthy incisors. “My dear, you waste your vituperations. I am so old, you see, I no longer need to wait to be invited. But do not worry,” he said lifting a bony finger. “I also no longer need to drink the blood of your kind.”

Bryn's heart rate increased when she opened the door. Whatever Lazarus wanted from her would not be good. She suddenly feared for herself and Fenix. Her mission to find Priest had been subverted by Lazarus. He had said he wanted to offer her some kind of deal. As Lazarus brushed through the open door, bending his head on its long neck to do so, she shivered. Above her the pitiful wail of her sister drifted to her ears from the second floor and Lazarus grinned. “My bargain will fix that.”

“Fix what?”

“Why your darling sister, of course. I assume you wish her to once again be an adult with all of her memories intact.”

Chapter 3

“Take a seat in my morning room and stay there,” Bryn ordered Lazarus. Where in God's name had Quinn gone? He must be with Tomlinson examining the wonders of the Exposition or contacting Scotland Yard. He had a knack for absenting himself when most she needed him. Whatever Lazarus wanted, his protestations of good intentions were not to be trusted. But his offer did intrigue her. What if he could help Fenix? She couldn't afford not to listen to his proposition.

She ran upstairs and found Babbette struggling with her sister. Fenix was bawling heavily and could not be comforted by the maid. When Bryn took the babe into her arms, she immediately quieted. Bryn stared into the golden eyes. “Are you aware, my darling?” she asked as she held Fenix close. The eyes seemed to stare into hers with perfect understanding and for a moment, Bryn was sure Fenix understood.

She carried the baby down to the morning room. Sun shone in the large windows from the small garden at the rear of the house. It was a pleasant room with a lovely view of flowers and greenery. Lazarus sat in his corner exuding darkness like an unwholesome cloud. It filled the side of the room where he waited, tendrils of that evil seeping from his robed person and into the room like smoke from a fire burning wet wood. Bryn wrinkled her nose. Though he did not smell, the taint of evil filled her nostrils. She took a seat on the opposite side of the room with the baby on her lap.

“What an affecting scene. The poor baby cursed to rise up in ignorance and be struck down in full bloom.”

His voice had an oily quality. Bryn shivered and wished she had no need to speak to him, but his offer of a solution more than piqued her interest. If he had some way to cure Fenix or help her, it was her duty to listen. “Tell me about this bargain and be quick about it. I find your presence in my house offensive.”

Lazarus leaned back in his flowered damask chair and crossed one leg. A bony ankle and sandals were revealed when his robe fell away. Bryn swallowed the nausea building in her nervous stomach and took a deep breath to quiet her racing heart. He seemed so at ease. What he had to say must truly be something she wanted or he wouldn't be so sure of himself.

“What is your most pressing desire, Bryn Sahir? What do you wish more than anything in life?” When he sneered, one side of his mouth moved and his flat pale-blue eyes showed no hint of life or amusement.

“Get on with it, Lazarus. Do not play games with me. We both know what my desire is. I hold it in my lap.”

Lazarus leaned forward and pressed his palms together as if he were praying. “I can give her back her memories. I can make her older.”

Bryn sucked in a huge breath as goose bumps shimmered up and down her arms. “No one can do that. Think you I have not tried to find a cure? I have searched in every corner of the world for centuries.”

“I do not offer a cure. I only offer to give your sister back her memories, all of them, and make her an adult again.”

Bryn scoffed. “I don't believe you can do this.”

Lazarus rose to his feet in a fluid motion and towered over her. “Do not mock me!” He bellowed. “I have the power to do these things. But such gifts come at a price.”

“Please sit down,” Bryn said. “I'm not mocking you. I would not. But this thing you say you can do, is impossible.”

He folded his thin body back into the chair and leaned forward with an eager expression on his face Bryn found even more disturbing than the sneer. “I cannot cure your sister. You are right about that. And please understand, what I can do will only last for this one incarnation.”

Bryn's heart raced as she thought about the possibilities. If Fenix was no longer an infant, she would be free to pursue Priest and recover the emerald before he performed his ritual. Priest wanted to be young as much as she wished to end hers and Fenix's curses. He would fight to keep the
Coeur de Flamme
and he was a fearful enemy. She would need all her resources and all of her strength to defeat him or to take the stone from him. Being distracted by an infant sister would hinder her to no end and endanger all of them, but she knew Lazarus would demand something horrible as payment for his services and she dreaded hearing it. Once she knew the extent of his demands, she would have to make a decision. She wanted what he offered as much as she wished to keep breathing, but at what cost?

“What do you want in return for this amazing service I do not as yet believe you can perform?”

Lazarus drew his thin lips back in a smile more frightening than his sneer. His fangs were revealed and they were over an inch long and sharp. “I need something Draak Priest stole from me centuries ago when he was a Greek Orthodox priest living in the Sumela Monastery in the Black Mountains of Turkey. I was looking for a safe place to recover after being staked in Russia. I was weak, I was on the run and the monks took me in.” He stopped and pushed back the cowl of his robe. “I carried with me a special dagger blessed by Christ himself. It gives life to the dead and can locate evil. I could not touch the hilt unless I wrapped my hand and even then it burned my flesh. It is made of silver blended with a metal not known on this planet but rumored to have been taken from a star stone.”

Bryn shook her head. “He must keep it close to him. Getting it will probably require killing him.”

Lazarus grinned again. “I do not care what you have to do to recover the dagger. It is a powerful weapon and a gift to me from God. I have little enough joy in the life I've been given. You think it is a pleasure to walk in my shoes? Think again. I was granted life and immortality. I would trade it in an instant for love and the feel of the sun on my face.”

“But I saw you walk in daylight.”

“I wear this robe to cover my face, but yes I can move about during the day as long as it's cloudy. What say you to my bargain?”

“What if I fail?”

Lazarus laughed then. “Not sure of your abilities, my dear? I thought you were a thief of extraordinary talents not to mention a powerful witch.”

Bryn snarled. “What if I fail?”

Lazarus leaned forward, an eager expression on his emaciated features. “Why then I get your sister. She will become my bride and I will make her one with me.”

Bryn gagged and turned away so he could not see the revulsion she felt at the thought of so horrible a penalty. She was being handed the opportunity to risk Fenix's life in return for a grown sister who would no longer be ignorant of her past lives. And this gift would only last until Fenix turned thirty if she could not steal something she was sure Priest valued as highly as his life.

What should she do? “Can I have half a day to consider your offer?”

Lazarus snarled. “Answer me now or I leave you with your baby and find another tool.”

Bryn fought the desire to moan with frustration. Fear rose in her throat like a tide of lava. She clutched Fenix hard and the infant wailed in protest. When she moved Fenix to the other side of her lap, the baby cried harder and louder. When Bryn glanced at Lazarus, he lifted an arched eyebrow and sneered. Fenix's sobbing grew so violent Bryn was forced to stand up and bounce the baby on her shoulder. Nothing would make her quiet.

The baby's desperate sobbing only cemented Bryn's feelings of helplessness and frustration. She could not deal with Draak Priest and care for an infant. It was just too hard. Pushed beyond reason, she answered the leering vampire. “I will steal the dagger for you, but only after you have changed Fenix. I still have my doubts that this thing can actually be done.”

The door to the morning room opened then and Quinn shouldered his way inside. He took one look at Lazarus, crossed the room to Bryn, took the baby in his strong arms and held her. Fenix immediately stopped crying. She stared at Bryn out of golden eyes wet with tears. It seemed to Bryn she was trying to tell her not to accept the Devil's bargain.

“What's he want?” Quinn demanded.

“He's here to offer me a deal.”

Quinn snorted. “I bet it's a good one.”

Bryn bridled. What right did Quinn have to judge her? “It is an excellent bargain,” she heard herself say.

Lazarus grinned and leaned forward. “I'm going to take that as an assent.” He rose. “I will return at midnight to perform the necessary sacrament.”

“Wait,” Bryn gasped. “I have not yet agreed.”

Lazarus sneered. “I heard you tell this gentleman it was an excellent bargain. Do you wish to renege? I would carefully consider the repercussions if I were you.”

Tears filled Bryn's eyes as she glanced from Fenix's tearstained face, to Quinn's puzzled one and then to Lazarus. Her soul felt like it was being torn into a hundred pieces. Her hand was being forced. What if she couldn't steal the dagger from Priest? What if she couldn't even find him? But doing both of these things would be easier if Fenix didn't need so much care. As if to punctuate her fears, Fenix began to scream shrilly.

“I'll do it,” she said in a tightly controlled voice.

Lazarus stuck out a claw-like hand. “Please take my hand to seal our bargain.”

Bryn's hand moved like it was pushing through molasses to grip Lazarus's cold fingers. His skin felt like it had been immersed in ice water for decades. He showed his fangs in another wolfish grin as he squeezed her hand. “Then it is done. I return at midnight to perform the rite that will give you back your sister.”

He swept out in a swirl of black robes and Bryn was left alone with Quinn. As soon as he was out of the room, Quinn grabbed her shoulder and turned her to stare into his steely eyes. “What was that all about? Who was he?”

Bryn shook him off and took Fenix from him. Her sister waved baby arms as she buried her tiny face in Bryn's blouse. “It's about Fenix. Lazarus told me he could give her back her memories and make her an adult.”

“Lazarus? As in
the Lazarus
?” His voice held a scoffing note.

“Yes, he is the original vampire raised from the dead by Christ himself.”

“You're trying to tell me Christ created a vampire?”

“It wasn't Christ. Lazarus was an evil person with a secret life. When he was brought back to life, the Devil, who secretly ruled his soul, turned him into a vampire. There is always a war inside of Lazarus. Good fights evil in his breast and evil almost always wins because he is weak. I'm hoping good will prevail in this instance.”

Quinn shook his head. “You're telling me Christ created a monster.”

Bryn nodded. “Maybe He knew what He'd made and maybe He didn't. Life exists in many forms; snakes, lions, vampires.”

“What did you have to promise in return?”

Bryn told him about the dagger as they took Fenix to the warm kitchen in the basement to find Babbette. She handed the infant to the maid to feed and led Quinn back upstairs.

“How do you plan to steal this dagger? You can't even find Priest.”

Bryn ground her teeth together. Why did Quinn have to immediately focus on her greatest fear? “It's not your job to worry about what I can or cannot do. Without Fenix to worry me and need constant care, I will be free to find Priest. And believe me, I will.”

Quinn snorted again. “I don't seem to remember Fenix as being all that easy to care for as an adult. You're dreaming, my girl.”

Bryn ignored this very truthful statement and when they reached the parlor, Sam walked in with Tomlinson in tow. They sat down to dinner a convivial group and listened to Sam and Tomlinson praise the Exposition. On the outside Bryn presented a composed face. On the inside, she boiled with insecurity and fear of failure. What had she done?

Chapter 4

When Fenix was safely tucked in for the night, Bryn and Quinn sat in the parlor on the first floor. The days were growing shorter as autumn settled in and the weather grew chilly. A small fire burned in the fireplace. Quinn rested one booted foot on the grate as he used the poker to stir the coals. “This business you have with Lazarus is dangerous, Bryn. Are you sure it's a prudent move?”

Bryn set a stitch in a baby dress for Fenix. “Do you not see what I'm doing? I'm sewing, Quinn. I'm making baby clothes when I should be searching for Draak Priest.”

He rose from his chair, bent over her and took her sewing. “Enough of this. I was promised a night of love.”

“Lazarus will be here at midnight.”

He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. She felt wonderful against him, her body lithe and supple as she molded it to fit his. “That's four hours away.”

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