Spirited Legacy (Lost Library) (32 page)

“I
love you,” John said. He was calm. Very calm. Lizzie looked at him, trying to figure out what was going on. They’d arrived in their room only a few minutes earlier. She’d been gathering her things to head to the shower. She stopped in her tracks. She’d thought it, but she hadn’t realized that she’d not said it.

Simple enough answer, and she saw no reason to dissemble. Lizzie looked up into his bright, beautiful, kind eyes. Without hesitation, she said, “I love you, too.”

“You know I love you so much that it sometimes makes me want to scream and shake you and lock you in a room?” His blue eyes held hers.

Since Lizzie was a walking magical disaster, had almost died (a few times), and was only alive, in fact, because John had refused to give up on her—well, yes. She did have an idea that he felt that way. And she didn’t blame him for any urges to scream, shake, or otherwise express frustration with her. It seemed that anyone who loved her did so at some risk. She was a magical mayhem attractant. She wrinkled her nose. That was singularly unattractive.

He was patiently waiting for an answer. And an honest answer was certainly the least she could do. “Yes. But I’m not sure that’s something I can change.”

He smiled. “That much I know.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I had some time on the plane to think.”

“Hey—I thought you were sleeping.” Lizzie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Sneaky.”

He replied wryly, “I definitely slept, too. But I also had some time to consider some advice a cranky old dragon gave me.”

Lizzie busted out with a laugh. “Lachlan?” At his nod, she asked, “Do I want to know what advice Lachlan, of all people, is giving you?”

His voice serious, John said, “You do. He said I needed a partner, not a responsibility.”

The laughter left Lizzie’s face. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.
Dammit.
If he broke up with her ass, just when she’d figured out she could deal with his stupid Lycan political bullshit, she wouldn’t forgive him.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. “Have I told you you’re nuts?” he whispered quietly into her ear.

She was getting some seriously conflicted signals now. So she pulled a John trick and shut her mouth, betting that silence would pull more information out of him. She was right.

“You’re insanely loyal. You have a foolishly strong sense of what’s right. And you act with a courageous heart in pursuit of your frequently unreasonable goals.” John tugged her closer.

“Not unreasonable, just ambitious goals,” she corrected him.

He hugged her close to his chest and laughed. A huge, deep laugh that resonated through his body. Then he tucked his nose into her neck and said, “Ambitious, it is.” He chuckled quietly. “What I’m trying to tell you, and what Lachlan was trying to tell me, is that we’re better as a team.” His voice took on a serious tone, the laughter gone. “You’re not my responsibility. You’re my partner.”

Lizzie blinked in confusion. Then she said, “Equal partners, right? Fifty-fifty?” She wasn’t letting this opportunity pass.

John grinned. “Don’t be greedy, wench.” Running his hand down her back, he said, all humor gone again, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I’m warning you—there’s only one right answer.” He paused significantly, then he said, “Will you be my mate—and my partner?”

“I will,” Lizzie replied without hesitation. She’d already decided it was time to woman up and accept the job. Little had she known that the job would change.

“So—what brought this on? Just Lachlan?” Lizzie asked.

“It’s becoming clear that trouble likes you. And much as I’d love to be your hero, much as I’d love for you to able to protect yourself, it seems that it’s a group effort. Together, we have a better chance of keeping you safe.” John didn’t sound thrilled by the idea, but he sounded certain.

She frowned slightly. Not incredibly flattering. “Well, let’s say together we can keep both of us safe.”

“If that makes you happy—”

Before he could finish that sentence, Lizzie punched him in the arm. “Partners, right?”

“That’s right.” He smiled and stood up with her in his arms.

She squeaked in surprise. “Hey, where are we going?”

“I thought you wanted a shower?” John grinned as he headed to the showers with her in his arms.

An hour and a
very
thorough shower later—Lizzie was sparklingly clean in all her nooks and crannies—she and John were both lying in bed, trying to catch a little rest before everyone reconvened to discuss the tapestry.

“We’ll go see the Pack as soon as we get back.” She knew the pack believed it was past time. And she was finally ready.

“Yes. That’s about to explode,” he murmured very quietly.

“What?” she yelped.

“Hmm. It’ll be fine.” He was licking the delicate whorls of her ear.

She frowned in concern. “So you say.” She pushed him away far enough to get a good look at his face. “This—the mate thing—it means we have to move in together, doesn’t it?”

It was more a statement than a question. He didn’t respond right away as she thought through the ramifications of that particular nugget.

“What am I going to tell my parents?” she asked with just a tiny tinge of horror shading her voice.

Chapter 38

F
ive hours later, the group met once again in the basement. The dragons were the only ones who looked fully rested. Everyone else in the room gripped a coffee, had a fatigued look, or both. The surprising addition to the group was Kenna. Lizzie hadn’t been able to reach her earlier because she’d been in transit, headed to Prague even though Lizzie had assured her she was fine.

Other than some awkwardness between Kenna and Max, which Lizzie didn’t get at all—Kenna was always casually friendly with her ex-flings, never silently awkward—Kenna fit right into the group. She was on her very best manners. She didn’t even threaten to castrate John once. Maybe because when she’d arrived, Lizzie had been in one piece. Lizzie grinned at her friend’s obnoxiously over-protective streak. It was cute in small doses.

Harrington got the meeting rolling with a quick recap. “The tapestry was acquired from Worth and is currently our best clue as to how Vampyr operate. Heike, what did you discover?”

With the meeting turned over to her, Heike looked uncertain. But once she started speaking, her words flowed more freely. Lizzie wasn’t sure how she’d missed the signs before. Heike’s youth, her uncertainty, her shyness. Lizzie just had to shake her head. Being kidnapped put a lot of strain on her, and she’d just made a mistake where Heike was concerned.

“There are a number of layered images. All of them related to a specific Vampyr faction from several hundred years ago. Several of the images seem to be an initiation ceremony, bringing new members into the group. Those were the most interesting.” Heike stopped and looked at Lizzie. Blinking and holding her coffee a little firmer, Lizzie perked up.
Uh-oh.

Heike sent a small, sympathetic smile in Lizzie’s direction. “I think that the ability to fade is key to the process the Vampyr use to syphon magic.”

Her heart sped up and her palms started to sweat.
No problem.
The last time had worked out okay. She’d been half out of her mind with pain and couldn’t remember the details, but it had been okay. And what was the worst that could happen? She could disappear and never come back…she shook herself.
Idiot.
That wouldn’t happen—she didn’t think. But she could be magic-less for a few days. She sighed. Defenseless, more like.

“What do you need me to do?” Lizzie asked, hoping none of her reservations were evident in her voice.

Heike looked more than a little annoyed, but Lizzie didn’t think her annoyance was directed at anyone. “I’m not sure exactly. I’m hoping that if I describe to you what I see, you can tell me more. I don’t know how fading works, so I’m mostly guessing right now.” Heike did not like to guess. That much Lizzie knew for sure.

Lizzie had a thought. Reinforcements were definitely in order. “I know we’re a big group, but can we squeeze into the Library?”

Harrington nodded. “Good idea. Having Matylda’s input could be quite valuable.”

After a few minutes of shuffling, the whole crew—Harrington, Harry, John, Max, Lachlan, Ewan, Tavish, Lizzie, Pilar, Hieke, and Kenna—were all situated around the three tables in the Library. The table where Lizzie sat held her homemade Ouija board and a pebble. Lizzie wasn’t really worried about Matylda beaning her any longer. She smiled. Poor Matylda, dealing with a bunch of thick, modern idiots.

Everyone was situated. And after an affirmative from Matylda that she was here and would stay as long as she could, Heike started over again.

“Initiates to the Vampyr cult went through a ritual with one member of the group—I suspect he was the leader of the group. He guides them through what looks something like their magics touching.” As Heike spoke, something tugged at Lizzie’s memory. But then it slipped away.

“Can you describe what it looks like?” Harrington asked.

“Imagine a visual representation of calling your magic. That’s what the tapestry figures look like to me. They’re covered head-to-toe in a soft glow of magic. Then the leader becomes transparent—just like Lizzie did when she faded.” Heike looked down at her notes, then up at Lizzie. “I think that’s what happens when you fade, right?”

When Lizzie turned to John for clarification, he nodded. “That’s right.”

Heike continued, addressing the entire room. “He never actually disappears, just stays transparent. Next he touches the new member briefly, and then he’s solid and the magic glow is gone.

“I’ll make a leap in logic,” Max said. “If it’s true that the magic taken by a Vampyr retains some of its talent qualities, maybe those images show the initiates getting their first bit of stolen magic from their leader. They might gain a very limited ability to fade.”

Heike nodded. “I think that’s what’s happening. It would also explain the perversion of the process with blood and the diminished capabilities of the frustrated Vampyr from Matylda’s book. The fade magic isn’t native to most Vampyr, so it didn’t work as well for them as the leader. That could easily lead to experimentation in an attempt to make the magic of their victims more accessible.”

Lizzie felt a little light-headed. That you could take something as relatively innocuous as teleportation and make a weapon out of it—it was appalling.

She felt John’s fingers wrap around her own.

“So, enough speculation as to how this plays into history. We can pursue that at a later date. How do we make it work as a cure for Sarah?” John clearly wanted to push this meeting to a close.

She squeezed his fingers appreciatively. As she looked at the table, Matylda moved the pebble.

1-S-T-F-A-D-E

First fade. She was an idiot.

Just to be sure, she asked Matylda, “When you first brought me to your chamber? How you helped me to get there, even though I didn’t know where I was going?”

Yes

“Matylda, you are brilliant and an absolute angel.” She looked up and every eye in the room was on her. “I think I know what we need to do. At least part of it.”

Thinking through what had happened before, she wasn’t sure how the transfer would work. She’d never felt as though she’d given or taken anything from Matylda.

“But how do I transfer it? The magical energy? I think I understand the merging. How do I take it and give it to someone?” Lizzie asked Matylda.

P-U-L-L

“Pull,” Lizzie repeated with a small laugh. But Matylda wasn’t done.

S-O-F-T-L-Y-?

Lizzie laughed, but it was slightly hysterical. Once she was sure she could form a sentence, she said, “Show me how to merge again?”

Matylda didn’t answer; she just hugged her. Before, she’d felt the warmth of intertwining energies like a pleasant handhold. This time, it was a hug. It engulfed her whole body. And she realized why she had never made the connection between this and what Worth had done to Sarah and John. Because, quite simply, they weren’t the same. Worth prodded and poked. He sucked and stole. What Matylda did felt more like the loving embrace of a mother hugging close a dear child.

When she felt Matylda leave, she felt a small sadness. Because she was losing a close and comforting touch. No—this was nothing like what Worth had done. The experience made her more confident that she could do this.

When she opened her eyes, everyone was looking at Harry with varying degrees of anticipation. He said, “Yes. I think that’s it. At least it looks like what Heike described.”

“All right,” Lizzie said. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter 39

I
n the end, it had actually been a pretty simple process once Lizzie got the intermingling concept down. A short trip to London, a quick checkup to ensure that Sarah was still stable, and they’d done it.

They found five volunteers, including Pilar, Heike, Harrington, and two additional brave souls from IPPC to act as donors. Harry had been more than a little surprised when Harrington volunteered. Harrington’s response had been a gruff, “Your father will kill you if you kill me.”

Lizzie wasn’t certain if he’d been joking or not. Sometimes with Harrington it was hard to tell. The man could be an ass, but he did take his responsibilities very seriously.

The first attempt had actually been funny. She’d started with Harrington at his insistence. She hadn’t wanted to, because—well, the act had felt quite intimate with Matylda. And the thought of—god forbid—magically
hugging
Harrington, it was just weird and unsettling.

She’d been so tentative that Harrington had told her, “Get on with it already. I’d like to have my tea at some point today.”

He was such an ass sometimes, but a funny ass. And it had helped to loosen her up. And when she’d tugged, she’d taken only the very smallest amount possible, immediately pushing it to Sarah. She’d never even felt it mingle with her own magic—like it had skimmed the surface of her magic to land with Sarah.

“What do you think Harry? Harrington?” They’d both looked at her like she was nuts. Apparently, she’d taken so little, neither had registered the change.