Living For You, page 15
Anka nodded to Pascal, and he led them to a large security gate. “He has security guards, just to make you aware.”
Pascal pressed a button and a stern voice said, “State your business. ”
“My name is Pascal. Mr. Darvel is expecting me and my associates.”
There was a moment’s silence, and then the gate started to open.
Gilbert leaned close to Anka and said, “I could have been in and out by now.”
“Just play along. Mr. Darvel may have more information we can use.”
“Fine.”
As they approached the door, it was opened by a member of staff. The man was not welcoming and never smiled.
“Follow me. Mr. Darvel will see you in his Egyptian room.”
That jolted Anka. The mention of her birth country made her mind flood with memories, both good and bad.
They were led into a huge room groaning with artifacts, artifacts better than any museum could boast. It was almost like walking into a tomb adorned with grave goods. It made Anka feel angry that they were so far from home, and in the hands of this man sitting in his wheelchair in the corner.
“Mr. Darvel, your guests are here.”
He turned around and appeared suspicious of those Pascal had brought with him.
“Pascal? Who are they?”
“This is Anka and her friend Gilbert.”
“Anka?” Mr. Darvel said.
“Yes, I am from Egypt originally.”
“I thought as much. Come and see this.” It was a statue of a cat. “Taken from the tomb of Tutankhamen. It’s exquisite, don’t you agree?”
Anka felt alive. She had been coming here to her brother’s library for weeks now. Her stepbrother Kheti was the pharaoh’s priest and used his knowledge of magic to keep and maintain his position.
Anka wanted to know everything about magic, but Kheti jealously guarded that knowledge. It was only in the last few weeks that she’d found his library with spells and incantations on scrolls all over the room.
She was learning how to create fire in her hands from nothing when her brother burst in with guards, and her life changed forever.
She was now in a jail cell. Her face was beaten to a pulp, bloodstains were all over her clothes, and her ribs were broken.
Kheti stood at the cell door. “You are nothing, Anka, just like your mother. My father was a fool to lie with that bitch. Magic is not for a woman, and you disgrace the gods trying to learn about it. Tomorrow you will die, and the world will never remember you.”
Once he left. Anka lay in agony, wishing that her death would come sooner. She felt weak and alone. Fury and anger screamed inside her.
Then in the darkness she heard, “Anka, do you want to be powerful?”
She couldn’t even jump in fright because of her Injuries.
“I can help you become strong, so strong that your brother will tremble at your feet.”
“Who are you?” Anka mumbled.
“Balor. The God who will make the world tremble, just like your brother said. Join me.”
“Anka?” Gilbert shook her shoulder.
She took a huge breath and returned from her memory. The next morning every person in the palace was dead at her feet, and her brother Kheti did beg, but she made him suffer a long time before she gave him the release of death.
She had been reminded of why she was doing this. No one would ever be able to make her feel as weak as she did then.
She handed the statue back.
“I understand you have something to sell me?” Mr. Darvel said.
“No, we want something,” Gilbert butted in.
Anka held up her hand to him. “We want to buy something off you.”
“I don’t sell. Pascal, you have deceived me. You said they wanted to sell. My butler will show you out.”
“Please, hear us out.” Anka was sure a man of his knowledge might have clues about the keys they were looking for, so she wanted to keep him onside.
“You have five minutes.”
“I understand you have a keen interest in the ancient Celtic myths and stories.”
“I do,” Mr. Darvel said.
“We believe you may have a bowl or urn that was found by Sir Thomas Molyneux?” Anka asked.
“I don’t know how you found that out, but yes, I do.”
“It’s said to be a map to the land of Lochlan. Is that correct?”
“So they say. Why do you have an interest?”
“I’m fascinated by the myth of the Tuatha De Danann. They are said to have brought it here, is that right?”
“Yes, it’s the pride of my Ancient Celtic collection.”
“May we see it?” Anka asked.
Mr. Darvel was quiet for a time. “Only with my security guards present. You may look, but I am not selling—at any price.”
“As you wish.”
While Mr. Darvel called for his guards, Anka looked at Gilbert and inclined her head as if to ask him to keep calm.
Gilbert was struggling to control his impatience. If it was up to him, Darvel and everyone in this house would be long dead. But while he was hot-headed, Anka was cool, and he knew it could pay to let her lead this one.
One of the guards pushed Darvel in his wheelchair while they followed behind. The other guard opened two big double doors.
They walked into a room staged with green lighting that bounced off glass cases holding many artifacts.
“This is a beautiful display, Mr. Darvel.”
“It is my favourite collection. The urn is over here.”
A glass case in the centre of the room was filled with a large urn. It had lines and runes carved around the outside.
“May I hold it?” Anka asked.
“No, not this one. It’s too precious, and just in case you’re wondering, it’s alarmed, and if set off the alarm would alert the police immediately.”
This human was really pushing it. He was lucky he still breathed. Anka tried a different tack. “Have you ever heard any stories about items that were connected to the Tuatha De Danann?”
“As a matter of fact I have, and it connects to Egypt,” Mr. Darvel said.
“Princess Scota?”
“You know of her?”
“Oh yes, she took half the Egyptian treasury and founded her tribes in Ireland, England, Wales, and Scotland.” The wolf packs.
“That’s her. Wolves were her emblem. In that treasury were magical items left in safekeeping with the royal family, by the ancient gods. I’ve always wanted to find the weapons if they are real. The closest I got was this picture.”
He pointed to a picture on the wall to the side of them. It was a shield with a howling wolf in the middle, and four quarters containing weapons. A sword, a shield, a spear, and an axe.
Anka smacked herself on the head. “Of course. Why didn’t I make the connection before?”
“What is it?” Gilbert asked.
“Princess Scota and her people were werewolves. That’s why they were sent from Egypt. She set up the British packs, and they each have a weapon as their emblem.”
“Werewolves? What are you talking about?” Mr. Darvel asked, suddenly seeming confused.
She marched over to the picture and said, “He is no longer useful, Gilbert. Kill them.”
Gilbert didn’t need to be asked twice. He ripped the throat out of Mr. Darvel while his guards shot him. His other vampire took care of them and the rest.
* * *
Sera’s initial excitement about going on this adventure was waning. Not because she didn’t believe this was the right thing to do, but because her new sense of purpose wasn’t glossing over her addiction any more.
Everything was worse because of her low level of blood consumption. What was hunger for blood and what was addiction were becoming difficult to differentiate.
“Sera? Do you need a break?”
It went against everything in her to admit weakness, especially to Bhal, but she had no choice.
“Yeah, I need some water.”
“Pull into the next service station, and you can get refreshed.”
Five minutes later they were looking for a parking space. Sera tried to find one furthest away from the main doors to give them some privacy.
Bhal took out her hip flask. “Have you got any bottles of water in your rucksack? I’ll need a top-up after this.”
“Yes, I’ve got everything. Water, blood bags, change of clothes.”
The Debreks kept a big stock of rucksacks that kept blood bags cool, for a travelling supply of blood, and Sera had grabbed one before leaving.
Sera cupped the underside of Bhal’s hands and drank the reviving water, then sighed as it calmed her body.
“Thanks, Bhal. Thanks for doing this for me.”
“I’ll do anything for you, Sera.”
The sincerity with which she said that hit Sera in the chest. “Thank you.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes, before Bhal looked away. Sera could get lost in those eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
“I was thinking,” Bhal said, “we’ll arrive quite late at the Ranwulf pack lands if we keep going. Why don’t we stay overnight here, and we can send Byron the information you found. Then tomorrow we can arrive in Northampton at a reasonable time.”
“You mean stay in the car?”
“No, there’s a budget hotel attached to this service station. Look.” Bhal pointed at a dull brick building with a sign saying Rooms available .
“I’m not a budget girl,” Sera joked.
“Beggars can’t be choosers. Come on, it’ll give Byron a chance to contact the Ranwulf Alpha,” Bhal said.
“Or give Byron time to send people after us?”
“She won’t. Give her a chance. Please?”
Sera sighed. “Fine, but if she reacts badly, I’m leaving tonight.”
“Fair enough.”
Bhal got out and got Sera’s bag. Sera led them over to the hotel reception, where they got the usual strange looks. Humans never knew what to make of Bhal or her gender—she was so far removed from a human self-imposed standard. Plus her natural authority tended to scare humans.
Bhal didn’t help by giving the reception boy the hardest of stares. Sera got the key card for their room and said to Bhal, “Come on before you scare the boy half to death.”
As they walked upstairs, Sera said suddenly, “I got us one room without thinking. Should I have gotten two?”
“No, I’d rather be close to you…in case anything happens.”
Sera was secretly pleased. She felt safe and calm in Bhal’s presence. They arrived at their room, and Sera used the key card to open the door.
She stepped into a cramped room with one large, king-size bed. Then she looked into the shoebox that was the bathroom. “Well, this isn’t the Ritz.”
“It’s only for one night,” Bhal said.
“True. Can you give me my bag and I’ll charge it up?” The bag cooling panels could be charged up so they’d be ice-cold for the next journey.
Then Sera took out one of the bags of blood.
“You can feed from me, Sera,” Bhal said.
How would she get out of this one? It both tantalized her and terrified her to think of drinking from Bhal again. It was too much, and Sera was frightened of either losing herself in Bhal or showing Bhal that there was something deeply wrong with her because she couldn’t stomach blood.
“No, I’m okay with bagged.”
Bhal’s face fell. Now it looked like she was rejecting her, but she had no choice.
“I’m just going to the bathroom.” She handed Bhal her phone. “Here’s the folder that I made up with the information I discovered. Can you send it on to Byron while I’m in there?”
Bhal grasped her phone. “Fine.”
Oh, Bhal is definitely annoyed.
Sera went in and locked the door behind her. She held the blood bag on the sink. Come on. You can do it. Keep it down this time.
She bit into the bag and drank it. It wasn’t best served cold, but it kept it fresh. Halfway through the bag, the blood started to come up her throat.
No, please!
This was why she wanted to feed in private. If Bhal saw this, she’d probably take her straight home, and she wasn’t having that. She brought up some blood and spat it out.
She couldn’t stand this any more.
Sera poured the rest of the bag down the sink and cleaned up as quickly as she could. Why was this happening? Could it be due to her drug use? She would have to find out, but not until she visited the wolf packs and collected the artifacts from them.
Bhal was probably right about letting Byron know her findings. The Alphas of the packs would take Byron more seriously than her, something that annoyed her greatly.
But that was why she was doing this, to prove herself more worthy of respect and of the name Debrek.
Chapter Fifteen
Byron walked around the room holding her tablet and reading the file that Sera sent. At first she was so glad Sera was safe, then enraged that she had gone off without giving Byron the chance to think about the best way to do this, and then angry that Bhal would help her.
It was so far out of character for Bhal. Maybe Amelia was right, maybe Bhal had feelings for Sera. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Bhal always put duty to the clan before anything. But love could make you do strange things. Byron knew that.
She looked up at her family and clan members in the drawing room. They all appeared uneasy, waiting to see how she would react to the news of what Sera had found and why she had run off.
“Have you all read it?”
“Yes, Principe,” some said, and the others nodded as they held their phones.
It fell to Amelia to talk first. “It’s brilliant. What Sera has figured out would have taken us God knows how long to discover.”
Byron nodded. She was secretly proud of Sera for thinking this out so carefully, but she didn’t like being forced into how they dealt with this. If she called Sera back, she’d either refuse or never forgive her, and who knew, maybe Bhal would choose to stand by Sera.
Byron needed—the clan needed—Bhal by her side.
“Sera is a bloody annoying little sister.”
From the nervous smiles, Amelia, Torija, Daisy, Katie, and Alexis were expecting her to explode. Maybe it was time to trust Sera.
“What are you going to do?” Amelia asked.
“Let’s call her. Daisy? Can you call her and put the call on the TV screen?” Byron asked.
“Yeah, no problem.”
Byron thought Sera would be more likely to take Daisy’s call than hers. When Sera answered, she looked shocked to see her family and friends staring back at her. It also looked like they were in a hotel.
Sera still looked pale, and her eyes were rimmed with red.
“Uh…hi,” Sera said nervously, “did you get the folder we sent you?”
Byron could see Bhal. “Yes, we did. Is Bhal there? I would like to speak to her too.”
Bhal came into the shot and sat on the bed. “Principe, I take full responsibility for this. I said I would bring Sera and—”
Byron held her hand up to stop her. Bhal was protecting Sera. There was no doubt in Byron’s mind that this was entirely Sera’s doing. Bhal really did care about her.
“Sera? You were so clever working this out. Well done.”
Sera’s eyes went wide. “Say what?”
“You did brilliantly working this out, but you should have come to me before leaving.”
“If I had done that, then you would have sent Alexis and Torija. I needed to do this, Byron. For me, for my own self-respect. I had to be useful.”
“You are an important part of this clan, Sera, and I’m sorry if didn’t make you feel that way.”
“Yes, we all are,” Amelia added.
Byron put her arm around Amelia’s waist and pulled her closer. She saw tears well up in her sister’s eyes. That was all Sera had really wanted, wasn’t it? Byron’s approval?
“Thank you, and it wasn’t Bhal’s responsibility. I gave her an ultimatum—come with me, or I’m going alone.”
“Now, that I can believe. Maybe I would’ve sent someone else, but now that you’ve gone, it might be the best thing. We don’t know if Anka and Gilbert have worked out what they are looking for yet, but if they have spies watching us, they would be less likely to think anything of you going somewhere.”
Amelia asked, “How did you work it out, Sera?”
Sera looked at Bhal beside her. “Bhal told me the story of how her people met the gods, and it stuck in my head. The artifacts sounded like the weapons the packs have.”
“How did the packs get them?” Daisy asked.
“Well, Princess Scota took the Great Mother as her Goddess, promising her and her followers a society where everyone could be who they were born to be. A warrior, a nurturer, no matter their gender. Human gender norms would be the past—that kind of thing. Scota turned her back on the Egyptian pantheon, and in return the Great Mother gave Scota and her followers the ability to become wolves and live in the natural world. They left Egypt and came to the UK and gave each new pack a weapon to look after—the weapons matched Bhal’s story. I’m thinking that they got them through a connection between the Tuatha De Danann and the Mother.”
“Clever girl. Okay, my thoughts are these, I’ll contact the packs, explain everything and hopefully they’ll be willing to help, and you can pick up the weapons. Bhal, be on your guard.”
“Yes, Principe.”
“Wait,” Torija interrupted. “What about this urn? The map to…What was it called?”
“Lochlan,” Bhal said. “Our stories say it’s somewhere in Scandinavia. It’s a crossroads between the heavens and earth, like the one Anka opened at Stonehenge, and Daisy and Amelia were able to keep open.”
Amelia asked, “I read in your email that the urn was excavated in Ireland. Maybe we should start there?”
Sera nodded. “Yeah, in Knowth.”
“Excellent, I’ll call Athelstan as soon as I get off the phone. Stan is usually very helpful.” Athelstan was the Alpha of the English Ranwulf pack and had attended Byron and Amelia’s wedding with Brona, his Mater.
