The Awakening (6 page)

"Is he dead?" Tristan whispered, the
darkness eerie considering the carnage they stood amongst.

"I-" She was interrupted by a loud wheeze
as Aed drew in a heaving breath and sat straight up, his eyes fixed on her.

"That…
hurt
," he rasped, clawing at
the hole in his chest.

"Shit," she hissed. Well, there went that
idea. Her power was useless against the Tuatha. Null and void.

Aed rose to his full height, blood oozing down his
front as the wound in his chest healed, flesh knitting back together.
He reached for a chair, the wood snapping in his hands. Aya didn't have
time to dodge to the side as he lunged for her, a long sliver
of wood slicing her through her stomach, the tip imbedding in the wall
behind her. Gasping in surprise, she tried to grasp the end to pull it out, but
her hands wouldn't work. Fingers slid numbly against her skin, blood coating
everything.

"How does it feel, star?" Aed asked, a
satisfied smile playing across his lips. "Hurts, doesn't it?"

"What do you want?" Tristan asked, his
voice wavering.

"What do I want?" The hybrid turned on
the knight. "I want what is owed to me and I will take it anyway I can. I
will make the world run red with blood if that's what I need to do. Do not
stand in my way, vampire, or you will join them with your head on a
pike." Turning back to Aya, he grabbed the splinter of wood and
twisted it, obviously enjoying the gasp of pain as it tore through her flesh
and organs. "Did you know…even your blood smells like the earth? Like
flowers in full bloom. It's an
insult
."

"You smell like a rotting corpse," she
said, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. "I think we're done
here, don't you?"

He stared at her, the streetlamp outside lighting
his face like the macabre devil he was. Wrenching the wood from her gut he
tossed it at her feet as she fell to her knees with a gasp. He began walking
toward the door, but stopped mid-stride. Aed looked at his hand and then
down at a man who was slumped over the bar. Touching the corpse's shoulder, the
hybrid's expression changed into one of surprise. As his hand began to glow a
deep crimson, the dead man twitched and his eyes snapped open.

"Well," he smirked. "That's
interesting."

"Arrow," Tristan took a step toward her as
Aed pulled his hand away and watched the red flame envelop his arm. It was the
same as her. He still had his power and it looked like he could reanimate
corpses. That was just fantastic.

The door swung on its hinges and Aed was gone. Just
like the insane, unpredictable mess that he was.

"Why'd you have to goad him on like
that?" Tristan exclaimed, helping Aya to her feet.

"I wanted to see if he still had any
power." She pulled up her shirt and smoothed her hand across her stomach.
The hole was already closing over.

"Shit, Arrow. He could've killed us. I know
you can come back and all, but what if he tore you to shreds? How the hell am I
meant to put you back together?"

"Can you sew?" she asked, trying to
stifle a laugh.

"You're makin' a joke at a time like
this?"

"Better to make a joke than cry about it. At
least now we know what won't work. I can't use my power against him."

"At least not to kill."

"No." She began to hobble from the pub,
desperate for some air that was clear of the foul stench of death.

"What do we do now? What about that guy? The
zombie?"

"Leave him be. He'll drop dead soon
enough."

"Drop dead?"

"Even corpses have expiry dates."

No use moping about how she wasn't all powerful
anymore. Her Celestine power was useless and this was one scrap she couldn't
get herself out of. She supposed there was a first for everything. There
was only one thing they could do at a time like this.

Grasping Tristan's shoulder for support, she
said, "We need to find our friends."

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Rix is hiding out where?" Zac asked in
surprise as Nye pointed to the arrivals display. They stood inside the
concourse at London's Waterloo train station, waiting for the platform number
to show up for a train out to Hampton Court.

"Hampton Court Palace." The number flashed
up on the screen and the spy began weaving through the crowd. "He used to
be a bodyguard of sorts to Henry the Eighth and his harem. He spent a lot of
time out there, I assume. Roaming the halls, cracking skulls and all that
stuff."

"So, he was a good guy once upon a time?"

"Depends on your definition of good. Henry was
a mental case. He was dead before I was born, but England still reeked of his
legacy, even under his daughter Elizabeth. Rix was party to that, even if it
was only under orders. Everyone on the loosing side is doing shit they believe
in until they get caught. Then they blame it on 'orders'." He air-quoted
the last part as they stepped into a train carriage toward the end.

"And you're sure he would've gone back
there?" Zac asked as he sat in a seat next to a window.

Nye sunk down across from him, putting his feet
onto the seat. "Rix never talked about his life before that much. Not many
of us had nice beginnings, so I don't really blame him for keeping his trap
shut. When he did talk about it, on the rare occasion he was off his face
drunk, he always spoke about Hampton Court. It actually sounded like he was
happy here, you know? It's the obvious place to look and if he ain't here, then
I have no fucking idea where he's gone."

This feeling of absolute…
sorrow
washed over
Zac and he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. Sinking his head low he
took a few deep breaths. It came out of nowhere, but if anything the past year
had taught him was that it always meant something supernatural was going on.
His thoughts went straight to Aya and he knew it had something to do with her.

"What's wrong?" Nye frowned at him,
sitting up straight.

"I just…" he said, rubbing his eyes.
"I think it's Aya. Something's happening."

"Like what?"

Zac didn't know what to say, so he just said what
he'd felt. "Sadness."

"Do you think it's her blood? She is a little
unpredictable."

"Her blood gave me dreams for a while,"
he said, glancing out the window. Impossible dreams that had been windows into
her past at a time he'd thought she was gone forever.

"Then maybe you're picking up on whatever
she's feeling."

Zac shrugged and wondered if she'd gone home. He
didn't think he was that special to warrant such anguish. He hoped she had
worked up the courage to face her past and move forward. It was what he was
trying to do after all and she'd spent a lot more time than him running from
it. An overwhelming desire to ditch everything and go find her pricked at his
skin.

"You said it yourself," Nye continued.
"We've got work to do. No running back when you're the one who broke it
off, mate."

"Are you a fucking mind reader?" he asked
with a scowl.

"Don't need to read minds when it's all over
your face." The spy kicked his feet back onto the seat. "Besides,
helping the Three find their way back is the aim, right? Helping them, helps
you find your own way. We've already got one out of three. Don't stop before
we've got the complete set."

"Right."

"Then it's psycho fairy ass kicking
time."

The train pulled into the station and Nye lead the
way, pressing the button to open the doors. Only a handful of people got off,
and they began walking toward the exit.

"There she blows," the spy declared,
pointing across the river.

Hampton Court Palace was pretty unmissable. It sat
right next to the river Thames, it's red brick facade and gardens stretching
from the modern bridge backwards for as far as the eye could see. The building
itself wasn't that large, not like Zac'd been expecting, but the grounds went
on and on.

They crossed over the water, walked through the
front gates and down the long driveway, tourists going in both directions.
There was a small building to the left that seemed to be the ticket office and
Nye strode in like he owned the place and Zac could only follow his lead. No
one else was waiting to be served, so the spy went right up to the counter,
startling a woman who'd been filing her nails.

She looked them up and down, trying to hide a look
that said, '
What the fuck do you want to come here for?'
 They did
look like a pair of thugs in their heavy black coats and boots. Combine that
with Zac's constant scowl and Nye's pretty face, they probably didn't fit in
anywhere, least of all Hampton Court palace and it's horde of tourists.

"You gunna give us a ticket, love?" Nye
asked with a wink. "Or are you just gonna stare at us? I can give you my
number if you like? What time you get off?"

The woman swallowed hard and said, "Two adults
is thirty-five twenty."

"Thirty-five quid?" Nye exclaimed.
Leaning over the counter, he said, "How's about just giving them to
us?"

She shook her head, looking bewildered and printed
out a pair of tickets and handed them to the spy. "Enjoy your visit."

"Cheers, love."

"Smooth," Zac drawled as they walked
outside. "We could've just compelled the guy at the gate. You didn't have
to scare the poor woman."

"Too many people around and we're too
conspicuous, mate." He nodded at the gate that lead into the castle
grounds. People milled about the entrance, where a guy stood on one side
scanning tickets with a hand held gun.

"The place closes in half an hour."

"Good thing we got in before last
admission." The spy slapped him on the shoulder.

They stood in the middle of the forecourt and Zac
scanned the facade. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but it was a weird
sensation standing inside something that was older than he was. Considering
he'd been born in another century, it was strange to think he could get any
older.

"I suppose we need a map," he said,
watching tourists go in and out of different doorways and under archways to
what looked like another outside court. The light was fading fast, being the
dead of winter and all, but people still milled about, not bothered in the
slightest.

"Don't need one," Nye said. "It may have
been almost five hundred years, but I remember a thing or two about this
place."

"Sometimes I forget how old you are."

"I'm an old musty man," the spy
proclaimed. "But not as musty as the Irish knight."

Zac shook his head with a laugh. "Then where
do you think Rix would be? I'm sure a place like this has a lot of hidden
corners."

"He spent a lot of time protecting the King.
My guess he would be around one of the passages leading from his apartments.
Underground, not up here with this rabble."

"Okay, then. Lead the way."

They made their way across the cobblestoned
courtyard and into a door that was marked with a sign reading,
Henry VIII's
Apartments
.

"Once upon a time, in a land far far
away," Nye began as they walked through the first floor, "there lived
a King who couldn't keep it in his pants."

"I'm sure it went another way," Zac said
as a few tourists turned to stare.

"Who needs an audio guide, when you've got
me."

"Probably people who want the clean
version."

His friend grinned as they found the stairs and
walked upwards. "Henry liked to do a lot of things in his bedroom. One of
them being
coming
…" he paused for dramatic effect, "…and
going."

Rolling his eyes, Zac thumped up the ancient
stairway, medieval tapestries and swords hanging from the walls. It really was
lavish and nice to look at, but they hadn't come to gawk.

"Elizabeth lived here for a while," Nye
said. "I came here a few times over the years. Being a spymaster meant I
was privy to the hidden passageways and hidey holes. They did them pretty well
and I could probably say with certainty that most of them haven't been opened
in hundreds of years."

"Hidden stashes of medieval jewels?"

"All kinds of things. Medieval spank
boxes."

"Too much information."

The attendant at the top of the stairs gave them a
look as they stepped onto the landing. Without glancing twice, the vampires
went into the first room, which was a formal throne room where whatever monarch
lived here at the time would receive guests. Beyond that there was another
throne room for the more important people, then a sitting room. All of them had
painted ceilings and gold leaf encrusted carvings and furniture to match.
Knowing how the other half must've lived made it a very stark contrast.

"Here," Nye said, waving him forward into
the next room.

The royal bedchamber was dark and small, a four
poster bed sat in the middle, flanked by ornate dressers and chairs. Rugs lined
the floor, elaborate tapestries covered the walls and the windows at their
backs opened out onto the manicured gardens below. The bed was smaller than Zac
thought it'd be, not exactly 'king sized', not by modern standards. He gathered
people were shorter back then and going by Nye's height he thought it must be
the case. He was almost a whole head taller than the spy.

Standing beside the rope that blocked off the room
from the designated walkway, Nye glanced back the way they'd come, looking for
the attendant. "The one good thing about winter," he said, "is
that there ain't that many people tramping through the King's bedroom."

When he was satisfied the coast was clear, he
stepped over the rope, striding across to the tapestry that covered a large
portion of the opposite wall. Lifting the corner, his arm disappeared behind
it, feeling the paneling behind.

"A secret passage?" Zac asked, glancing
over his shoulder.

"Escape route," came Nye's muffled voice.
"I don't know if anyone realizes it's here. There's a trick with this one
and if you don't get it in the right angle you could be here for days."
There was a dull thud and a click and the spy stuck his head out from behind
the tapestry and shot his friend a grin. "You coming?"

Zac followed Nye through the gap in the wooden
paneling and the spy slid it closed. It clicked into place and they were thrown
into darkness. 

"It's a crawlspace for a few yards, then it
drops down a floor, then into the underground." The spy started to inch
forward, his back against the wall. The air stunk like soot and grime and their
boots kicked up a thick layer of dust as they shuffled the length of the first
section of the crawlspace.

"So, it was used as an escape route for the
King if ever the castle was breached?" Zac asked, his voice low.

"Yeah, and secret messengers and prostitutes
and all kinds of debauchery."

"Why this one?"

"This is the only way down to the section of
tunnel I think Rix would be."

The spy lead him down a set of crude stairs that
were only slightly wider than the crawlspace. At the foot, they opened out on a
passageway that was wide enough for them to stand face on, but their shoulders
still brushed the stone walls on either side. The path seemed to slope
downwards before they came to another set of stairs that Zac gathered led down
to the underground section of the tunnels.

When they reached the bottom, Nye stopped in front
and gestured down the tunnel. A warm light was radiating ahead, breaking up the
darkness. Someone was down here and chances were it was Rix. Who else could it
be?

Zac edged around the spy and took point, moving
forward silently. The moment he stepped into the light, hands grabbed the
lapels of his coat and he was flung across the room. He collided against the
stone with a bang, dirt and grit raining down on him as he landed face first on
the floor. Strong hands circled around his throat and began squeezing.

"Rix," Nye exclaimed, pulling the vampire
off Zac. "Calm down, mate. It's only us."

"I know who it is," he said, shoving the
spy away. Pointing at Zac he snarled, "That is for the car crash and your
lack of loyalty."

"I won't apologize for that," Zac
replied, scrambling to his feet. "If honor is your thing, then you'll
understand I was bound to others before Regulus ever showed up."

"What the hell do you want?"

"We've come to ask for your help," Zac
said, dusting himself off.

"You want my help? Not fucking likely."

Nye stepped between them and if Zac knew what was
going to happen next, he might've pushed the spy out of the way. "You
think by hiding yourself away down here you're gong to bring back
Jocelyn?"

"Shut up," Rix roared, pushing Nye back
into the wall.

"She's been gone five hundred years,
mate."