The Messenger: A Novel (23 page)

BOOK: The Messenger: A Novel
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48

Y
ou don’t need to tell me,” Adrian said angrily as Daniel entered the basement. “Evan is dead.”

“Dead! No—”

“Ah. You didn’t know.” The shell eyelids blinked with a little clicking noise. “And yet you arrive here without him.”

“He wanted to go back to the house and shoot the girl—not the girl you wanted, this one was Brad’s sister. I wanted to hurry up and bring Hawthorne to you.”

“Hawthorne?” Adrian said sharply. “You’ve brought him here?”

“Yes, my lord—I mean, sir.” Daniel winced at this slipup, but Adrian seemed not to notice. “I hope I did the right thing.”

“The right thing? My boy, you have exceeded my expectations! Bring him down here at once.”

Daniel hurried up the stairs, and cautiously approached the man he had left tied up on the kitchen floor. Hawthorne hadn’t moved. His eyes were still closed, his face gray. His clothing was drenched in blood. Daniel almost expected his skin to be cold as he picked him up again, but instead the man burned with fever, a warmth Daniel felt even through the layers of Hawthorne’s clothing. He had never known anyone to get such a high fever so soon after an injury.

Adrian had told them that they would not be able to kill this man,
only to injure him so badly they would have time to search his clothing for the ring. But maybe Evan’s bullets had done the job. It was hard to believe a man in this condition could live much longer without medical attention. Daniel found himself feeling itchy wherever his skin had come in contact with Hawthorne’s blood. He told himself to stop being such a wuss.

He could not help but look at Hawthorne’s fingers, double-checking them. He wore no ring. Eduardo had told Adrian that the man did not wear the ring, something Eduardo had known first because Brad and others who came in contact with Hawthorne had said he wore no jewelry, and second because he had checked this for himself, using a telescope to spy on Hawthorne when he walked from his car to the hospice or stood on his balcony. He dared not come closer, Eduardo said, because of the dog.

And now Eduardo was dead, and the only other time Hawthorne had been at their mercy, out in the desert, they had been worried about a witness—this woman who was his lover, as it turned out. And then the dog had arrived, and they had had to leave before they met Eduardo’s fate.

How had Evan died?
he wondered. Probably the dog. Despite the heat emanating from Hawthorne’s body, Daniel suddenly felt cold with dread. That dog had jumped right into the truck. He had been inches from meeting Evan’s fate.

 

It was difficult to negotiate the narrow stairs while carrying Hawthorne, but he managed it.

Adrian motioned with his clawlike hands. “Here, here, on the table!”

As Daniel complied, Adrian went down on all fours—his only means of moving around now—and scuttled to Daniel’s side. Daniel could not help giving a small cry of pain as Adrian used his pincer hands—which he saw now had grown stronger and larger—to grasp Daniel’s leg and arm, slowly pulling himself up in this manner until he stood.

“Ah, yes!” Adrian said. “Hawthorne! My dear Daniel, you do not
know—cannot conceive of—how long I have waited for this encounter!” He laughed. “Oh, this is excellent.”

Hawthorne moaned.

“Quickly! Chain him!” Adrian ordered. As Daniel obeyed, Adrian studied him, then said, “Do you think he is harmless?”

“Evan shot him, sir, I don’t know how many times. He’s got a high fever.”

“Do you see these three bullet holes in his clothing, these two through the chest? And this one, in the stomach area?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And all this blood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tear open the shirt. Look at the wounds.”

Daniel did as he was told and then stared in disbelief—though Hawthorne’s torso was covered with drying blood, his wounds were nothing more than red marks. A glance at his face showed color returning to it.

“I warn you, Daniel, he is far from harmless. He could easily kill us both, without experiencing anything more than temporary discomfort.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Search him for the ring. Search thoroughly. Then bring me a sharp knife.”

Daniel did as he was asked, all the while thinking of Adrian’s caution. He had never seen Adrian respond to anyone as if he were afraid—but clearly, he was afraid of this man. Even his previous warnings about Hawthorne had not prepared Daniel to see such a reaction.

He scratched at his hands.

By the time he returned from the kitchen with the knife, all signs of the bullet wounds had disappeared. Daniel reached Adrian’s side just as Hawthorne’s eyes opened. For a moment Hawthorne seemed utterly confused, pulling weakly at the manacles, frowning as he looked about the room.

Adrian took his face between the powerful pincers that served as his right hand, forcing Hawthorne to look up at him.

At first sight of the fleshless face, Hawthorne attempted to turn away, but Adrian held him fast.

“Do you not recognize the man who gave you your very life, Captain Hawthorne?”

There was a flash in the dark eyes, then Hawthorne said, “I thought the fever was giving me a nightmare, but I should have known you by the stink, Adrian.”

For that little joke, Adrian pressed the pincers closed until Hawthorne’s jaw broke.

Daniel saw the agony of this injury written on the man’s face, although Hawthorne did no more than grunt at the moment the bone audibly cracked.

“Now, while you are healing, I shall ask Daniel to note that your powers of recovery do not exclude you from the experience of pain. If you do not want to live out eternity in this cellar, experiencing more pain, you will tell me what you have done with my ring.”

After a moment, Adrian said, “Yes, now I think you are well enough to speak. Where is the ring?”

“Shade will find me, you know,” Hawthorne whispered.

Adrian laughed. “Dear me. Do you think that dog will be of any help to you? You forget that he and I share a bond as well. He cannot attack me.”

Hawthorne looked to Daniel. “What a comfort to you. If you are Adrian’s creature, you are in danger from that dog.”

“Don’t worry, Daniel,” Adrian said quickly.

“But, sir—what he did to Eduardo, and probably to Evan—”

“You will not share their fates,” Adrian said distractedly. “Tyler!”

Hawthorne’s eyes were drifting closed. Adrian pinched his face again, and Hawthorne looked up at him but seemed unable to focus. Adrian let go of him.

“Tyler,” he said in a coaxing voice, “where is my ring?”

“What ring?” Hawthorne murmured and closed his eyes.

“Daniel, feel his face. Is he warm?”

Daniel obeyed. “Still burning up, sir.”

Adrian sighed. “Damn. I should have let that little demonstration wait.”

“What shall I do with the knife, sir?”

Adrian looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Set it on the desk for now. We must make an elixir that will shorten the time of his fever…if I can remember how to make it.” He laughed. “However, if I concoct a poison by mistake, it will simply give me something else to use to persuade him.”

Daniel said nothing.

“Now, listen carefully, Daniel. In the cupboard to the right of the desk, you will find a bottle labeled
Tanacetum parthenium
…”

“Sir, may I please wash first? My skin—it itches.”

Adrian stared at him. “Does it? Yes. Shower and change your clothes. You may have something of a reaction to his blood. When you come back down here, bring a pair of gloves with you. Oh—and that item I had you purchase at…what is it called again?”

“The hardware store, sir.”

“Yes. I think we should have that on hand.”

Daniel went upstairs and showered for as long as he dared.

49

A
manda stood watching in dismay as the rings rolled in every direction.

“Can you help me out here?” she asked the dogs.

They sat staring at her.

“Let’s forget about the ring. Let’s just find Tyler.”

When she headed toward the door, Shade blocked her way.

I don’t have time for this!

But each time she tried to dodge around him, he stepped in front of her.

She felt her fears rise, but she quickly tamped them down. Shade wasn’t growling or trying to bite her. “Are you herding me?”

He wagged his tail.

“All right, all right!” She decided to do as he clearly wanted her to—after all, he had been with Tyler for a couple of centuries, and she had little hope of finding Tyler without him.

She scooped up the rings she could easily find, and placed them on the table. She then got down on her hands and knees to recover as many of them as she could. It was in this position that Ron and Alex found her a few moments later.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked.

“Help me gather these rings.”

“Tyler has been shot and kidnapped, and you’re looking at jewelry?” Alex asked angrily.

“Believe me,” Amanda said, not looking up from her task, “we have to find his ring before we find him.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Alex…,” Ron began.

“I’m sure it looks that way, but, Alex, you must already know that Tyler…isn’t like other men. He has gifts, and…he’s different in other ways. He needs this ring. I wish I could tell you more, but it’s up to him to do that.”

“I don’t understand—” Alex began.

“We don’t need to understand,” Ron said, interrupting her. “Amanda knows things about this situation that we don’t, and if she could tell us about them, she would. If she says this will help him, it will. Let’s help her.”

He got down on the floor and began retrieving the rings that had rolled under the far couch.

After a moment, Alex said, “Right,” and did the same.

Amanda sat back on her heels, momentarily overcome.

“Thank you…thank you both.”

Ron passed by her to place the rings he had found on the table, and gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

When they were sure they had gathered all of the rings, Amanda waited to see if some sort of feeling came over her. None did. The ghosts were nowhere in sight.

Great, now that I wish you’d appear, where are you?

The rings were varied, both in style and in the materials from which they were made. Some were fashioned from gold, others from silver, some were oval, others were square, some swiveled on hinges set at each end of their shanks. Ivory, enamel, and even braided hair were worked into their designs. Some held miniatures of the departed—several were of children. Others were designed with willows, forget-me-nots, or memorial urns. One was of a skeleton holding an hourglass, in which all the sand had run to the bottom. Others seemed to be small portions
of portraits, one an eye and cheekbone, made to look as if the beloved deceased were watching the bearer. Most, though, were a variation of the winged death’s-head.

“They’re sad, aren’t they?” Alex said.

“Amanda,” Ron said, “you do realize these are worth a fortune?”

“That’s not really important to me right now. I need to find a particular ring.”

“Can I help? I know a little something about mourning rings.”

“You do?” Alex said in surprise.

“Well, yes,” he said, almost apologetically. “Derek, my grandfather, was a collector of antiques, and I helped him catalog most of his belongings. He wasn’t so great with computers, so it was a way I could help him out. He liked mourning rings and memento mori in general.”

Amanda said, “Can you tell how old they are? I’m looking for one that’s older than the time of Napoleon.”

“Can any of these be that old?” Alex asked.

“Oh, sure,” he said, starting to sort through them. “The practice of making them goes back to ancient times. Most of these are Victorian, probably made late in the nineteenth century. Queen Victoria brought them into fashion when she mourned the loss of her husband.”

He quickly sorted a large number of rings out of the mix. “These are probably Victorian.”

About twenty rings remained. Most were similar in design.

“Okay, that helps. Tyler will immediately recognize the one he needs.”
I hope.
“I’m taking all of these.” She put one on the ring finger of her right hand. No special feeling came over her.

“One for every finger and toe?” Alex asked.

Amanda thought for a moment, her hand going unconsciously to the simple chain necklace she was wearing. As her fingers closed around it, she said, “On this.”

She unfastened the chain, laced it through the remaining rings, and fastened it again.

She no sooner had this around her neck than Wraith came to her side, leaning against her, then went with Shade to the library door.

“Now what?” Alex asked.

“Follow the dogs.”

They didn’t have far to go—the dogs hurried into Tyler’s room. Shade scratched at a desk drawer. Amanda opened it to find a set of keys to the van. “I guess we’re going in the van,” she said, following them downstairs. The ghosts of her aunt and uncle were waiting for her. So were Brad and Rebecca.

“We’re going to be a little crowded,” Alex said.

The ghosts shook their heads.

 

Forty-five minutes later, she was driving down the canyon road in Tyler’s van, only the dogs with her. Most of those forty-five minutes had been spent convincing the other humans to stay behind. She got the clear message from her aunt and uncle that she should go alone. Rebecca got the message, too, and quickly became her ally, although the others saw this as more mistreatment of Amanda by Rebecca.

“Really, it’s not,” Amanda had said. “Alex, please, we need someone to keep the house and everyone in it safe.” She handed her Tyler’s cell phone. “Keep this. Start writing down the numbers he has stored in it—we may need reinforcements.”

It was a nice try, but Alex told her to keep it, and didn’t give up on insisting that she should go with her. She believed Alex would have forced her way into the passenger seat of the van, but when she opened the door, Shade bared his teeth and barked fiercely at her. Alex was clearly taken aback but offered no protest as she shut the door and let them go.

The dogs were crowded at the front of the van, Shade on the passenger seat, sticking his head out the open window, Wraith staying close to her. Wraith had hardly left her side since she had put on the necklace of rings. It made her feel sure that at least one of these rings was the one Adrian had given to Tyler.

“I’m almost at the end of the canyon road here,” she said, glancing at Shade. “I take it you’ll tell me which way to turn?” Both dogs suddenly looked straight ahead, ears pitched forward.

She looked back at the road and slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a man who stood in the middle of her lane.

She drew in a sharp breath. “Colby!”

He sauntered over to the passenger door, opened it, and politely requested of Shade that he get in the back.

Shade cocked his head, then moved off the seat.

Colby looked at the back of the van and laughed. “A bed! How very convenient.”

“Look, Colby—”

“Yes, I know—you’re in a mad panic to get to Tyler, completely understandable, but let’s say I may be able to help you get there faster than even these two dogs can do the trick. Shade will have to hunt him out, you know, and it could take days. Tyler might still be alive but—” He paused and watched Wraith, then looked at Amanda. “Good God.”

“What?”

“She’s bonding with you. Nothing complete yet, but—well, forgive me. This isn’t to the point.”

“So tell me! Which way do I turn?”

He smiled. “Oh, there’s a small price for me to serve as your personal GPS.”

“What?” she said warily.

“Let me make love to you.”

She felt a little rise of hysteria and clamped down on it. “I’m sorry—I don’t mean to insult you, but really, I’ve never been further from being in the mood. If you can’t help me, please just go.”

“He’s torturing him, you know. Constantly. Tyler recovers and Adrian inflicts another painful injury.”

She felt herself grow light-headed.
I will not faint.
Wraith moved closer, and she petted her and felt calmer. “He’s your friend. Help me save him.”

“Is he my friend? You know, really, I don’t have friends. Tyler said as much to me not long ago.”

“He did mention that you go out of your way to provoke him, but he is concerned about you.”

Colby smiled. “I could almost be touched by that. But I’d really rather be touched by you. And that I touch you back. I can promise you that it will be incredibly pleasant for you.”

“Why are you asking this of me? You aren’t going to convince me that you’re really interested in me.”

“But I am.”

“Colby, that is such—”

“I am. But as for why—oh, let’s say that Tyler was right. I go out of my way to provoke him. There! How honest of me! But I really don’t want him to suffer too much pain at Adrian’s hands—such as they are.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll see, I’m sorry to say.”

She stared out at the road, wondering what she should do. She stroked Wraith’s fur. Every second that went by, Tyler was suffering. But she couldn’t bring herself to be with anyone other than Tyler—and even if she hadn’t cared so much about Tyler, she could not make love to someone who would make a weapon out of intimacy. She’d already been there, done that.

He’s in trouble.

Tyler’s words came back to her. She was quite sure that Colby would never divulge his problems to her, but she said, “You don’t really want to be with me at all.”

“Don’t I?”

“No. And you know what? I don’t think you want to be dealing with Adrian for the rest of eternity either.”

“Adrian,” he scoffed. “I knew him before he called himself that. He is incredibly boring, you know. Really, nothing is more boring than purity—whether it is pure evil or pure good. Adrian and Tyler deserve each other.”

“Tyler isn’t pure good.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“He’s not. The perfect have nothing to regret. He regrets losing his temper with you.”

“He always was more human than not. Please don’t think I’m praising him by saying that.”

“You’re human, too. Or you’d like to be. You still have empathy, I think. You really do want to care about someone other than yourself.”

“Don’t kid yourself.”

“I don’t think I’m the one kidding myself right now.”

He said nothing, and she sighed. “Shade, which way do I turn?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. I really don’t want to be stuck with Adrian. Turn right.”

She hesitated.

“I know Tyler told you I’m a liar. And I am. So—Shade, if I lie, you may bite me.”

“No! That would mean—no, Shade. Not that.”

“You’ve seen what happens?”

“Yes.”

“And even if I might give you false directions, you’d keep me from going up in flames?”

“Yes.”

“Too bad. If I thought I could get that result, I’d lie my ass off. Now turn right.”

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