Black Spring (3 page)

“Color me surprised,” I muttered.

Daharan smiled briefly before continuing. “However, as humans evolved, they became more interesting to Lucifer. He began to spend more time here, to establish a base of power. And then he was made to carry the souls of the dead, which brought him into closer contact with people. He began to covet this planet, a place Alerian considered rightfully his. The oceans were ruled by his creatures, his monsters. All life on land had come from his source, from the sea. He naturally resented Lucifer’s intrusion.”

I desperately wanted to ask just who had been powerful enough to force Lucifer to become the agent of the dead, but I resisted. Daharan might clam up if I started asking too many questions about the origins of the universe.

Daharan continued. “Although life on land had begun in his waters, the intervening years had separated humans and animals too much from this source for Alerian to wield his will over them. He decided to experiment. He wanted to create creatures that would be fully malleable. They must be able to change form but also have no strong will of their own. He also wished, however, that these creatures have a great deal of personal charisma.”

“Seems like those qualities would contradict one another,” Beezle said. “How can they have no will of their own but still be snake charmers?”

I shook my head at him. I could see what Alerian had been trying to achieve. “He wanted to be able to push his will through these creatures, to use them like high priests recruiting acolytes.”

“While he remained in the shadows,” Daharan agreed.

“I guess we don’t need to ask if he succeeded,” I said.

“The creatures were born of his own blood, the power and changeability of the sea, mixed with the blood of humans and of shapeshifters, which were only in their infancy as a species then. Through it all he infused his magic, until he had created the perfect vessel. Three of them.” Daharan paused, his eyes far away.

“So what happened?” Jude asked impatiently.

“The creatures worked perfectly. They could be human or animal or bird, whatever Alerian wished, and they drew others to them until Alerian had a vast army completely under his control,” Daharan said heavily.

“I think I can guess what happened next,” I said. “Lucifer didn’t like Alerian playing with his toy—which he had stolen from Alerian in the first place—and so he decided to just smash it.”

“You understand Lucifer very well,” Daharan said.

“He’s not complicated,” I said, a little insulted. I really resent positive comparisons between me and the Prince of Darkness. “His machinations might be beyond me most of the time, but his motivations are pretty simple. If you’ve got it, he wants it.”

“So Lucifer did what—rounded up his Grigori buddies and started raining fire on Alerian’s armies?” Beezle asked.

“Yes,” Daharan said. “And the carnage was terrible to behold. It soon seemed there would be nothing left of this planet except a wasteland devoid of life. So I was sent to intervene.”

Nathaniel and I looked at each other, each knowing the same question was on our lips—
who sent you?
But neither of us asked.

“I negotiated an accord between the two of them. Lucifer would continue to collect the souls of the dead, and to wield influence over humanity. Alerian would maintain his superiority over the oceans. As part of the agreement, Alerian was to destroy the shapeshifters he had created. And he did so. I watched him do it myself.”

“That couldn’t have endeared you to Alerian,” I said.

Daharan nodded. “It was, I believe, much like destroying his own children.”

“And now one of these monstrosities has appeared,” Nathaniel said. “If they were destroyed, and such was witnessed by you, then there can be only three ways it could have returned. First, Alerian made more than three all those centuries ago but managed to conceal one from you.”

“It is possible,” Daharan acknowledged. “Alerian’s powers and mine are in direct contrast with one another. When we are together it seems that both of us are . . . muted, shall we say? But even if he was able to hide the creature, then we should still have seen some evidence of it in intervening years. And I cannot believe Alerian would be so careless as to leave such a monster formless and masterless while he slept.”

Unless he thought the shapeshifter was safely locked away,
Samiel pointed out.

Beezle nodded. “Yeah, maybe he stashed the little devil somewhere out of this time and place, thinking he would go back later and retrieve it. There would be no chance of you accidentally detecting the presence of this shifter until it was too late.”

“Again, it is possible. But my reach and breadth extend far beyond this time or this place.” Daharan said this with no arrogance, only a statement of fact. “It is unlikely the creature could be concealed simply by the expedient of moving it off this Earth.”

“The second, and more troubling, reason this shifter could have reappeared is that someone—Alerian himself or another person—is using Alerian’s original formula to create more shifters,” Nathaniel said.

We were all silent for a moment, digesting the unpleasantness of this idea. Everyone here except Daharan had been present when the last lunatic’s biological experiment had been implemented. My own father, Azazel, had tortured humans and Agents until he’d found a serum to help vampires walk in the sun. How much worse would it be if a new player had discovered how to make these shifters? These were creatures who could look like anyone, be anyone so thoroughly that even their family members couldn’t tell the difference.

“They could infiltrate everywhere, do anything they wanted,” I said.

“Yeah, it would be like that alien in
The Thing
, except on crack,” Beezle said.

“And what could anyone do until it was too late?” I said. I’d been afraid of Alerian from nearly the first moment I’d seen him, and I was beginning to get an inkling why.

And the third way?
Samiel asked Nathaniel.

My baby shifted in my belly, and I knew the answer before Nathaniel spoke. “One—or all—of the shifters bred with human women while in human form, and their powers were passed through the human bloodline.”

Nathaniel nodded. “But those powers would not have manifested until now, until this particular individual was born; else we would be in the aforementioned predicament of many creatures abroad, manipulating humans to their will.”

“It’s not exactly the ‘better’ option,” I said. “If magic is in the gene pool, it could pop up at any time. And we have no way to determine who could have parented these children.”

“Is it that important to decide where this thing came from?” Jude asked. “It brought harm on my pack. It personally killed at least one wolf. And it came here with the intent of harming Madeline. I say let’s hunt it down and kill it and worry about its origins later.”

I gave Jude an exasperated look. The wolf had always been partial to action, and impatient with our councils.

“It does no good to kill one if there may be more—or the threat of more—behind him,” Nathaniel said patiently. “And we must discover his master if you wish to reunite your pack and live in peace.”

Jude said nothing more but looked grumbly, which meant he agreed but didn’t want to say so.

Daharan suddenly looked alert. “Something is happening. Turn on the television.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Beezle said, leaving the dining room table and flying under the arch into the living room.

He grabbed the remote from the fireplace mantel and flew to his favorite spot on the couch.

“Find a news channel,” Daharan said.

“But
La rosa de Guadalupe
is on now,” Beezle said.

“Find a news channel,” Daharan repeated.

Beezle flipped through the channels, muttering to himself.

“Something urgent is obviously occurring and you’re upset because you’re missing an episode of a telenovela?” I asked. My stomach was knotted in fear. The last time we’d all gathered around the television, we saw hundreds of vampires eating the denizens of the city. What could it be now? A plague of zombies? An army of faerie warriors come to take vengeance for the death of their queen?

“If I miss an episode, I won’t know what’s going on next time,” Beezle said.

“You don’t know what’s going on anyway. You can’t speak Spanish,” I said.

“I know how to order my food in Spanish at the taqueria,” Beezle said loftily.

“Just find the news and stop talking before someone in this room loses their temper,” I said.

“‘Someone’?” Beezle asked, making air quotes with his fingers. “Or you?”

“I could very easily lose my temper, gargoyle,” Nathaniel said.

“No, you won’t,” Beezle said. “You’re like the stepdad that can’t discipline the kids because you’ll make their mom angry.”

Nathaniel opened his mouth to respond, but Samiel crossed to the couch, wrenched the remote from Beezle’s little claws and punched in the channel number for the local morning news.

“Hey!” Beezle said. “What is this, Gang Up on Beezle Day?”

We all gathered around the television. The news anchor was announcing a surprise press conference from Chicago’s mayor. The anchor talked for a few moments over the video of the press conference, but I hardly heard what she said. The mayor stood at a podium, and just a little behind his right shoulder was Alerian. He’d covered the natural color of his hair, probably with a simple fae-type glamour, so he looked like he belonged with the rest of the respectable types.

“What’s he doing there?” I demanded.

Daharan shook his head. “I do not know. Let us listen.”

The mayor offered no explanation for Alerian’s presence. Lucifer’s brother wore an expensive-looking suit and a calm expression. I suppose anyone might have assumed that he was a bodyguard for the mayor, but I knew better. Alerian was up to something. Daharan would not have been so disturbed otherwise.

I was so busy concentrating on Alerian that it took me a while to sort out what the mayor was saying. Something about “exposed to a new world,” and “changing with the changing times,” and that “given recent tragic events, it only makes sense.”

“He’s out of his mind,” Jude said. “It’s illegal. He’ll never get away with it.”

“Get away with what?” I asked. “I missed the beginning part.”

“He wants all ‘creatures of supernatural origin’ to come forward and be registered with the city. And then he wants to create an area of Chicago especially for such creatures to live,” Nathaniel said.

“Which will be fenced in and policed, I’m sure,” I said. My hands went unconsciously to my stomach, covering the baby there.

He wants to put all of us in ghettos,
Samiel signed.

“Jude’s right. He’ll never get away with it,” I said.

“That’s not true,” Beezle said. “The pack’s experience indicates pretty clearly that there are plenty of people who have no interest in the law where supernatural creatures are concerned. And if they want to get the fence-sitters on their side, all they have to do is rerun the video of commuters having their faces chewed off by vampires in Daley Plaza.”

We all sat in silence, acknowledging the truth of this. But there was another truth that none of us had spoken yet.

“There’s no way he came up with this idea on his own,” I said. “Alerian put this into his head somehow.”

Daharan nodded. “Whatever agenda my brother has—”

“He’s making his play now,” I finished.

“Yeah, and who’s the best-known supernatural creature in the city?” Beezle said pointedly.

They all turned to look at me.

“Are you saying they’re going to come for me first?” I said. “Because I would think my celebrity, such as it is, would protect me. Isn’t Jack Dabrowski always going on about how people think I’m a hero for getting rid of the vampires?”

“Now that the vampires are gone, you’re the only person that the general public is sure has some kind of unusual powers,” Beezle said. “Well, you and the rest of the Mensa cases here, since you all were dumb enough to get caught on film fighting the vampires.”

“You were there, too,” I said, annoyed.

“Nobody is going to put me in a camp,” Beezle said. “Some nice upper-class lady who lives on the Gold Coast will adopt me and carry me around in her Kate Spade bag while she’s shopping.”

“Well, I’m not going to stand around and wait for my house to be burned down again,” I said. “I think it’s time to have a word with my uncle.”

Beezle opened his mouth, doubtless to dispute the wisdom of such a plan, but I cut him off.

“If he’s got the mayor under his influence, then it won’t be long before he gets control of someone more powerful. And then whatever he hopes to achieve by cordoning off supernaturals will become a national problem,” I said.

It hardly seemed possible that just a couple of hours earlier I was remarking that things had been quiet lately. As usual, once one problem appeared, several others decided to join in.

“You’re not going to see Alerian in your state,” Nathaniel said.

“What state?” I said, narrowing my eyes.

“The last time you saw Alerian you nearly drowned just by looking into his eyes,” Nathaniel said. “If something like that happens again, the shock of it could harm the baby—assuming you survive the encounter yourself.”

“Besides, how do you know this isn’t all a ploy to lure you to him?” Jude said.

“I’m not that much of a solipsist,” I said. “I can’t believe that Alerian would arrange to have every supernatural creature in the city registered and put in a camp just so I come for a visit. He could call. I’m sure he has my number. Or he could get it from Lucifer.”

Daharan shook his head at me. “Do not underestimate Alerian. His magic is deep and mysterious, like the ocean from which he draws his power. His ultimate aim is certainly not the imprisonment of nonhumans. This is the means to some larger plan.”

“Any ideas of what that plan might be? It would be nice to have a clue before I get screwed by one of your brothers again,” I said, thinking of Puck’s intricate machinations.

Daharan shook his head. “As I have told you before, my powers and Alerian’s lie in direct contrast to one another. It makes his intentions difficult to read.”

“I don’t think any special foreseeing powers are required here,” Beezle said. “He’s still pissed that Lucifer took his toy, and he wants it back.”

“All the more reason Madeline should stay out of the cross fire,” Nathaniel said.

“Do you really think that Alerian or Lucifer will let me stay out of it if they decide to start shooting at one another?” I said.

I read the emotion that flickered across his face—acknowledgment of the truth of my statement, anger at his inability to keep me safe.

“Let’s just try to be proactive about this,” I said. “If we go to Alerian now, maybe we can stop whatever he’s got in mind before he really gets revved up.”

“We?” Nathaniel asked, and there was a lot of implication in his “we.” Like he was asking if “we” were a couple.

I was not ready to answer that question, especially not with everyone and their gargoyle watching, so I sidestepped. “Of course. Alerian is your uncle, too. But I think the rest of you should stay here.”

Disappointment flickered across Nathaniel’s face. I felt sorry for it, but I just wasn’t ready to make a public declaration. Even if he was sleeping in my bed. Which was as good as a public declaration, if you thought about it. Which I didn’t want to do.

Daharan nodded. “It would not be a good idea to ask for an audience while surrounded by warriors. Alerian might take it as a sign of aggression.”

“I want to look for the shapeshifter anyway,” Jude said.

I’ll help you. I can take Beezle with me and fly over the area,
Samiel said.

“Who said I’m going?” Beezle said.

“You’re going,” I said, then looked at Daharan, wondering what he would do about either of these two problems. It was like we were leaving our most powerful arrow in the quiver, as it were. But Daharan seemed to prefer to stay out of the squabbling of his brothers, professing that his only purpose was to keep me safe.

“I am going to increase the levels of protection on this building,” Daharan said. “It would be best if any humans that came searching for you were unable to find you.”

“Including Jack Dabrowski?” I asked. Maybe the blogger would give up if he couldn’t find me anymore.

Daharan shook his head. “He knows too much about you to be fooled by any illusion that I might spin.”

“Too bad. That would have been an easy solution to an annoying problem,” I said.

I went to shower and attempt to make myself presentable. Maternity-wear shopping hadn’t been high on my priority list so I wasn’t sure what I had that would actually
be
presentable, but as usual Daharan had thought of everything. When I entered the bedroom I saw a white blouse and gray pantsuit on the bed.

For a moment I was reminded of Puck, and another occasion when clothes had been left on the bed for me. I pushed that thought away, because when I thought of Puck my brain got twisted and angry. Those emotions would not be helpful in dealing with Alerian.

I dressed, and of course the suit fit perfectly. I twisted my hair up in a knot behind my head—it was down to the middle of my back now—and found some lipstick that might have been less than five years old, but I couldn’t be certain.

I was just finishing up when Nathaniel entered the room. He’d dressed in a black suit with a crisp white shirt. Despite the recent changes in his hair and eye color, he looked a lot like the old Nathaniel, the one I’d met and despised in my father’s court.

But he wasn’t that Nathaniel anymore. Even though he was more powerful than he’d ever been, the old arrogance was gone. And he loved me. I knew that with the certainty of a woman who knows real love, because I’d had it once before.

I’d lost that love, and so when I thought of Nathaniel, a part of me would hesitate. Thus far he had waited patiently for me to come around. How long would he be patient?

“The others have gone to look for the shapeshifter,” he said.

I nodded. “Beezle, too?”

“Yes, with much grumbling.” He was silent for a moment, then said, “I want you to know that I do not think this is a good idea.”

In the past I might have blown him off, said something snappy like “duly noted.” I would have charged forward with an arrogance of my own, a surety that I would succeed simply because I wished it to be so. But not anymore. The events of the last several months had taught me that the risks were far greater than any reward, and that winning was an illusion. The price I’d paid for success was death, whether by my hand or another’s. The death of Gabriel had nearly broken me. But the deaths I’d been responsible for weighed on my heart, too.

And even though I’d tried my damndest, I’d yet to stop either Lucifer or Puck from getting what they wanted. In many cases I’d even inadvertently helped them. So there was no guarantee that I would be able to halt the progress of Alerian’s scheme. It was very likely that I would fail.

So instead of dismissing Nathaniel’s concern, I turned around and met his eyes. “I know.”

“Why are we doing this?” Nathaniel asked. “Why must you put yourself in harm’s way?”

“Do you think I could live with myself if I allowed my baby to grow up in a cage?” I said. “Or anyone else’s child, for that matter.”

“They cannot put us in pens,” Nathaniel said. “No one will voluntarily come forward.”

“I’m sure there will be motivation for normal people to turn us in,” I said. “Alerian isn’t stupid. This is just the first shot across the bow. Once the idea of a supernatural holding area sinks in, they’ll announce that there will be benefits for creatures who turn themselves in, and rewards for anyone who helps identify a creature living in secret.”

“Even if they capture us, they cannot hold us,” Nathaniel said. “What human could keep you or I in a cage? Our magic is beyond their comprehension. Even an angry werewolf or faerie could massacre dozens of humans in a moment if the authorities tried to take them away unwillingly.”

“Maybe that’s what Alerian is counting on,” I said slowly. “The more evidence of our dangerous natures, the better. Any kind of slaughter would only add fuel to his argument.”

Nathaniel ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Then we can leave. You do not need to live in this city. Why not another, far from Alerian and his designs?”

“If he succeeds here, then he’ll succeed elsewhere,” I said. “And it will only be a matter of time before someone catches us.”

“You could go to Lord Lucifer,” Nathaniel said. “He would protect you and the child.”

I stared at him. “Kind of like leaving the wolves’ den for the lions’. You know I don’t want Lucifer’s protection. I’ve fought against it from the start.”

He crossed the room to me, put his hands on my arms. “How can I protect you when you refuse to see reason? Alerian is laying a trap for you and you are walking into the noose.”

“It’s not just about me,” I said. “There are others who will suffer if Alerian succeeds.”

“Do not go,” Nathaniel said, and his face was white and scared. “Do not sacrifice yourself needlessly just so you can go to him again.”

I looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and then I realized what he was saying.

“You think I’m trying to kill myself,” I said slowly. “So that I can be with Gabriel.”

“Are you not? Why else would an expectant mother put herself in harm’s way over and over again if not to be reunited with the father of her child?” Nathaniel said, and it was like something taut had suddenly snapped inside him. “I know I mean less than nothing to you. I know that I will never be Gabriel. I know that you cannot love me as you loved him.”

“Nathaniel, I—”

“Stay with me,” he said, and he pulled me into his embrace, enfolding me in his wings like he could keep me there in his cocoon forever. “I do not know what I am without you. It is only you who keeps me sane, who keeps me human. If I did not love you, I would be a monster.”

I pulled back a little, shocked, and looked at his face. The skin was drawn tight over his bones, and his eyes burned with fear and anger and love.

“You aren’t a monster,” I said.

“But I could be,” he said. “I can feel it inside me, the shadow that creeps and cloaks. If I had nothing to tether me to this world, that shadow would run free, would destroy everything in its path.”

“I’ve felt that shadow, too,” I said. “This is our legacy from Lucifer and Puck, the darkness that pulses in our blood. But I won’t let it take over, and I won’t let it take you, either.”

He looked at me uncertainly. “You will stay?”

I took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to get back to Gabriel. I want to live. I want to live with you.”

It wasn’t the same as telling him I loved him back. I knew that, and he did, too. But relief washed over his face. Our bond, forged in magic, had been strengthened. I had chosen Nathaniel over death.

I kissed him gently, his face in my hands, then rested my head on his shoulder. “Maybe someday Lucifer and all of his brothers will just go away and we’ll be able to live a normal life.”

“Yes, a normal life with wings and the power to destroy worlds,” Nathaniel said. “I do not think the American white picket fence is part of our future.”

“Probably not,” I said, and smiled. “But I make great apple pie. Ask Beezle.”

“I try not to speak to the gargoyle unless absolutely necessary. For some reason I find I become quite enraged when I do,” Nathaniel said, taking my hand and leading me from the room.

I grabbed Lucifer’s sword and swung it over my shoulder. Alerian probably wouldn’t try to hurt me. Probably. But it was hard for me to leave the house without it. That sword had saved me more times than I could count. And even if Alerian meant me no harm, that didn’t mean some other freaky thing wouldn’t pop out of the woodwork. That seemed to happen to me a lot.

“I think Beezle’s cultivating that effect on you,” I said. “He could be less annoying if he wanted to be.”

“And I could rise to the bait less often, hmm?” he said as we went down the front stairs.

“It might discourage bad behavior,” I said. “But I make no promises.”

I stopped when I got to the front porch. “Umm, do you know where we’re going?”

He shook his head. “No. But I do not believe it matters. Can you not feel him? It is just as it was when he was rose from the lake. We will be able to find him without trouble.”

Now that Nathaniel mentioned it, I
could
feel Alerian’s presence in a way that had not been there the day before.

“He must be exerting a great deal of power for it to be palpable to us,” I said.

He shook his head. “I do not think so. I think we are more aware of him than the other three brothers.”

“I’m not sure about that,” I said. “I can feel Lucifer in the back of my mind almost always. And I know when he’s approaching.”

Nathaniel looked thoughtful. “I believe that is because you are bound to him through more than one line. Your child is also blood of Lucifer’s blood, and that strengthens your connection to him.”

I nodded. “I’ll buy that. But we both have no direct tie to Alerian. You’re a closer relative than I am, being the son of his brother, but neither of us is a direct descendant. So why do we sense him so strongly?”

Nathaniel looked troubled. “I do not know. But I am not certain it bodes well for either of us.”

“There is something more elemental about Alerian, isn’t there?” I said as we cloaked ourselves from human sight and took off flying.

“Daharan has that quality as well,” Nathaniel said. “But it seems that he deliberately banks the effect, whereas Alerian makes no attempts to hide it. Still, we all feel slightly uncomfortable around Daharan. He cannot hide his true nature completely.”