The Secrets Amongst the Cypress, page 28
He didn’t belong here. Not at their house, and not in their time.
Jacob kicked the door closed. He didn’t drop his gaze. His approach toward Victor was a contiguous, fluid movement. “You have some serious balls coming here. Amelia told you to leave us alone. I told you to leave us alone. Ophélie even told you to leave us alone.”
Victor’s hands went up in bemused surrender. “Are you going to lay fists on me, Jacob? Or are we going to have a discussion, like gentlemen?”
Jacob’s hands turned to tight balls at his sides. Amelia sensed him fighting with himself: to fight this battle with violence or words. The competing emotions rippled off him in violent waves. His muscles tensed under his white tee, his sinewy strength on full display. Although he made no immediate move, Victor gave a subtle recoil.
“I wouldn’t let my husband bloody his fists on your account,” Amelia said. “There are three guns in this house and I know how to get to each one of them in less than thirty seconds.”
“We parted nary two weeks ago, and my arrival incites the threat of a gun battle?” Victor shook his head with a maddening air of benignity. His hands hovered in the air, conducting his words. “Dare I ask what has changed in that period of time?”
“Nothing has changed,” Amelia said. “When I saw you last, I asked you to leave us alone. Don’t act like there was an open invitation. I was clear.”
“But we are friends, are we not?”
“Friends?” Jacob repeated with a heavy laugh. “I don’t care if you lived part of your life as Cianán or not, or what else we might have in common. I’m not okay with how you look at my wife, or the way you confused her when she was at her most vulnerable. You knew exactly what you were doing.”
“I’m not confused,” Amelia stated. Her eyes bore holes in Victor. “I know what I want. And I know what I don’t want.”
Jacob’s smile in her peripheral was so fleeting only she would have recognized it. He returned his full focus back to Victor. “You may be immortal, but you’re not invulnerable. You have five minutes to tell us why you’re here.”
“Two,” Amelia countered.
“Ten,” Victor said amenably. His smile was as furtive as it was apologetic. “What I have to tell you could take the remainder of the evening, but I can compromise for the sake of brevity, and perchance, my head.”
Amelia thought of calling her mother. She had never missed a meeting when she was in town. Colleen would worry, especially given all Amelia had told her about her time away. She was probably already worried. Maybe even out of her mind.
More pressing was the immediate problem of getting Victor out of their home, though.
Jacob pointed at an armchair. He then dropped into a perched position on the couch across, as if he might spring to action at any moment. Amelia settled in next to him and rested a hand on his knee in what she hoped conveyed an outward sign of their unity.
“Say what you need to say and leave,” Jacob said.
“Yes, well,” Victor began. He relaxed into his chair and folded his legs. Amelia’s anger roiled to the surface at how casual the creature acted against their growing frustration. “I must confess. I came to request your assistance in a matter that is quite vexing.”
“I’m not helping you with anything,” Amelia said. “Except getting out of my house.”
“No? You may change your heart when I share the nature of my request.” Victor pulled at the lapel of his waistcoat. How much attention did he attract in his nineteenth century garb? And why hadn’t he updated his wardrobe over the years? New Orleans was an eccentric city, but this was odd even by their standards.
“Eight minutes,” Jacob said.
“Then I shall come right to my point,” Victor replied with a slow, charming smile. “You see, the truth of the fate of your ancestor, the most lovely Ophélie Deschanel, our beloved Cerridwen, has been steeped in many falsehoods over the years. Some stories, of course, quite true. You witnessed with your own eyes the abuses wrought upon her by her horrific mother, Brigitte. It is also true that Charles turned a blind eye during the War to what the Union soldiers did to poor Ophélie.”
Amelia flipped her palms out. “Okay. We know this. And?”
Victor continued unperturbed. “It can also be said that Charles, in his guilt, lifted the knife meant to take her life and deliver her of her sorrows. Indeed, he used it on her! But, ah, Ophélie did not die.” His eyes twinkled. “Can you guess, my friends, what did become of her?”
“What do you mean, she didn’t die? Of course she died.” Jacob’s foot tapped in mounting impatience. He looked at Amelia. “We don’t have to entertain his delusions.”
“Get on with it,” Amelia demanded. “Make your point and leave.”
Victor brightened, growing ever more animated. “But she did not die, Jacob! For you see, I was forewarned of Charles’ notions, courtesy of Ophélie’s own visions, and had confirmation of the same from the time travelers sitting before me. I followed the man, though he did not know it. As Ophélie bled toward what would have undoubtedly been uncertain death, I leaned before her and gave her my blood.”
Amelia gave him a pointed look. “So, what, she became like you? You clearly told me that a dhampir cannot make another dhampir himself. That he has to take the person to the… uh, tree or whatever.”
“The Master’s Tree,” Victor clarified. “And so I did. But first, my blood healed sweet Ophélie. Our blood does not heal as your mother heals, Amelia, but it bought necessary time. Though, some, like my father, Marius, were healers before we took the blood of the Master. I then carried her to Coquillage and laid her before my father. He healed her further, but she did not immediately awaken.”
Victor’s time was running out, but both Amelia and Jacob listened in shocked suspension. “Come on now,” Jacob said. “If you took her away, why would the family say they found her stabbed to death? That’s why Brigitte threw herself from the damn gallery. If Ophélie had lived, everything would have been completely different. Everything. This doesn’t make any sense.”
“They did not need a body to confirm the worst when Charles confessed his crime. While the story passed down was that Ophélie’s life was stolen by soldiers, the immediate family always knew it was Charles. When he noticed the body missing, he assumed those selfsame soldiers who had earlier spoiled her body took her to perform further unmentionable injustices. To spare his loved ones the grief of envisioning their sweet girl bandied about, he lied and claimed to have buried her himself, on the property. You have seen her grave marker with your own eyes, in present day. His lie allowed me to permit Ophélie new life.”
“So you socked her away like a hostage?” Jacob charged.
“No, I did much more than that. I took her to the Master.”
Amelia shot forward, launching to her feet. “And she consented?” No, this was not possible. She talked to Ophélie herself before they traveled back to the present… she was clear in what she wanted… she would never…
Victor pulled back. “She was in no presence of mind to consent or not consent. I had no means of asking her, and her wounds were too grievous for even my father’s great skill. There was no choice for me, when the alternative outcome meant her death. I brought her before Childeric, our leader, and requested we find one willing to give their dhampir life for hers.”
Jacob closed his eyes, processing. “So you’re telling us you kidnapped Ophélie, against her will, took her to the Master’s Tree, and had her turned into… whatever you are?”
“She had no will. She would not awaken.”
“That’s like saying the woman was too drunk to consent, so you raped her anyway,” Amelia accused. “Please tell me you didn’t really do this. Please tell me you did not do this to our Ophélie!”
Jacob rose to her side. His temper was a fine match to her own, two flames rising higher and higher. She sensed him restraining his, but it wouldn’t be long before he was no longer able to.
Victor was taken aback. “I did not rape Ophélie.”
“You raped her of her choice!” Amelia stepped forward. She leaned over where Victor sat, as relaxed as a man sitting for afternoon tea. “You don’t get to make decisions for other people simply because it suits you. Ophélie knew she was going to die. You offered her this choice and she turned you down. How much more clear does it get? You did this against her will, against her wishes.” Amelia backed away from him, stumbling into the sofa. “You really are a monster. Where is she? Where is she, Victor? If you really did as you say, where is she?”
“You need to leave,” Jacob said. He looped an arm around Amelia, gentle but protective. His hand burned hot at her back. He had always carried his rage most potently in his hands. “Now.”
Victor ignored Jacob and focused his answer on Amelia. “That’s why I’m here. I do not know where she is. As you are now, she was angry at what I had done and she abandoned me. She yet carried the child that grew in her belly at the time of her assault. I never saw her again, nor do I know what became of the child.” He knelt before Amelia.
She gaped at him in horror. She went stiff. Still.
“I beseech you, Amelia. I have searched the world for my Cerridwen, and she has eluded me for over a century. I come to you, arms wide, begging for your assistance in locating her and bringing her back to me.”
A burst of vibrant anger surged through Amelia. She lifted her hand and swung it at his cheek, palm open. He recoiled in shock, as did Jacob at her side. “You want me to find her for you? You took everything from her! Her right to choose her own destiny. You may have forsaken who you were born to be, but she did not, and you stole it from her. You unbelievable bastard. You get out of my house and out of our lives, and if I ever see you again, God help me I will use every last breath in my body to see to it that you never hurt another living being again!”
“My darling—”
Jacob lifted him from the chair with one hand. Victor stumbled as Jacob dragged him toward the door, biceps straining to control the ancient creature. “She is not your darling. We are not your friends. And if we do find Ophélie, you are the last person on earth we would ever tell.” He swung the door open and released Victor with a light shove. “You’re uninvited.”
Victor gave him a curious, amused look from the porch as he straightened his jacket. “You read too many vampire novels, Jacob. I don’t require an invitation, and so neither can you uninvite me.”
“Yeah? Watch me.”
Jacob kicked the door closed for the second time.
* * *
Amelia stared, white-faced, into nothing. She couldn’t focus on any specifics of her surroundings. She could hardly think coherent thoughts. What Victor had confessed could not possibly be true, but she saw no reason for him to lie, nor did she detect any deception from him.
“You okay, Blanca?”
Amelia breathed in deep and turned to her husband. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Jacob nodded. “Yeah. Same. Do you think he’ll stay away this time?”
She thought about it a moment and then shook her head. “No. He’ll be back. And, you know, I don’t think he came here for us, either.”
“How do you mean?”
Amelia glanced outside. Dawn prepared to crest on the horizon. The Collective would be adjourning soon, if they hadn’t already. “He knows I can’t find her. I’m an empath, not a telepath or a tracker. But there are others in the family who are, and he must know that.”
Jacob ran his hands across his face. When they passed over his eyes, she saw they were red and tired. “So why not just go to them? Why bother us?”
“He doesn’t know them. He needed us to bridge that gap.” Amelia let out an exhausted half-laugh. “He really miscalculated.”
“He’s insane,” Jacob said. “Maybe that’s what immortality does. Drives you bloody mad.”
Amelia switched off the porch light, but not before checking to make sure Victor was no longer prowling around. Not that he would go far, she was sure. A man who had spent a century and a half on a single fixation wouldn’t be deterred by one bad conversation. “I don’t think he’s lying. I wish he was, but I sense he’s telling the truth about what he did to her.”
Jacob nodded. “I know.” He turned down the light on the chandelier to the lowest setting, then extended his hand to Amelia. “And if she is out there, we can’t let him anywhere near her.”
“Do you think she might be?” Amelia was shame-filled at even allowing herself to hope she might see Ophélie again, after what the poor girl had been through.
“Maybe.” Jacob squeezed her hand as they made their way up the stairs. She leaned into him. “If she is, I hope she’s found herself some sort of happiness. Lord knows she’s earned it.”
* * *
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Empyrean & Quinlan
Encyclopedia
Aanya: A kind and beautiful Empyrean Agripin once loved, but was forbidden from claiming as his duchess her due to her lack of lineage.
Aidrik (Also: Aidrik the Wise): Once a well-respected member of the Eldre Senetat. After Aidrik discovered their true nature, he sliced the Mark of Emyr from his face, freeing him from the Senetat’s tethers. He met and saved Anasofiya from death, becoming her evigbond. Lived in a triad with Anasofiya, and her husband Finn, until his death, at the hands of the Senetat.
Aleksandr: Empyrean son of Anasofiya, Finn, and Aidrik. Shy, introspective. Named heir of the Deschanels by Nicolas. A mystic, and time shaper, whose abilities are still surfacing.
Anders: An Empyrean Mercy co-habitated with for a short period of time. She believed him Ascended, but he was, actually, a scout for the Brotherhood, under the direction of Thorvald. His most recent assignment brought him to Ophélie, where he is tasked with training and protecting the Brotherhood children.
Arborkinetic: A form of telekinesis involving flora. A strong arborkinetic can command plant life to do their bidding, and some can communicate with plants. Anne Fontaine Deschanel and Duchess Nerys are both arborkinetics.
Ascension (Also: Grand Ascension): The ultimate death and rebirth all Empyreans are promised. It is tied to Emyr’s Mark, which is said to come alive when their time is near. Once active, the mark is then supposed to usher them through death and rebirth, into the arms of Emyr. The truth is the mark is simply an infusion of dark magic administered by the Eldre Senetat, from which they control the activation and subsequent death of Empyreans.
Astrid: Brotherhood leader of Ireland and the British Isles, alongside her evigbond, Birger. Birger and Astrid are in the minority in their decision to make peace with Quinlans. They also co-exist peacefully with humans in the nearby villages where they live in a tribe of other similar-minded Empyreans. Many look to them as the moral compass of the Brotherhood. They have one child, Eydis.
Baldur: A sadistic scout for the Senetat who captures Amelia and Jacob, torturing them for information. Is killed by Jacob.
Bestiakinetic: One who can commune with animals. Finnegan becomes a bestiakinetic after being given the Sveising. Yiva and Jorun are also bestiakinetics.
Birger: Brotherhood leader of Ireland and the British Isles, alongside his evigbond, Astrid. Birger and Astrid are in the minority in their decision to make peace with Quinlans. They also co-exist peacefully with humans in the nearby villages where they live in a tribe of other like-minded Empyreans. Many look to them as the moral compass of the Brotherhood. They have one child, Eydis.
Blacksmith: Forger of Ulfberht, and creator of Empyrean Steel.
