The Shadow's Son (19 page)

Tristan fell to his knees behind her, gasping for breath.

"Do not panic," she hissed. "I'll protect you."

Aya felt the fire burning down her arm and pooling into her palm, the entire length of the cavernous platform glowing iridescent blue. The look on Alisandra's face was one of utter horror and she hoped to hell that this would work. Slamming her open palm down onto the platform, the tiles began to crack under the force of her power as she fed it into the earth beneath. For a sickening moment, nothing happened, but then the platform began to quake, a long crack shining with blue light travelling straight for the witches.

The thirteen witches threw up their hands all at once, stopping the fissure from pulling the ground out from under them. Roaring in annoyance, Aya pressed even more power into the earth, making it quake enough to dislodge sections of the celling. Dull booms echoed through the tunnels and a thick layer of dust was kicked up into the air.

The witches were forced to drop their makeshift shield as her power slammed into them again, and a few stumbled and fell from the force. Alisandra screamed in rage, obviously not counting on this at all.

Tristan gasped next to her and stumbled to his feet, whatever spell they had cast to restrain him, breaking. "Arrow…"

Aya knew she couldn't fight them. Not right now. Pushing the knight back along the platform she cried, "Tristan, run. I'm right behind you."

He turned and bolted the way they had come, not stopping for anything and she was right on his heels. They had to get out of here before the Coven put their wards back up or they would both die here and now.

As Aya ran through the tunnel that led to the ticket hall, she skidded to a halt at the end and summoned her power again. This time, instead of moving the earth, she slapped her hands against the walls of the tunnel. The structure shifted with a violent crack and with
a
almighty boom, collapsed in on itself. The rush of air and grit pushed her back into the ticket hall and she turned to run, making for the staircase to the surface, but something had changed.

"Tristan, stop!" she screeched.

He skidded to a halt, arms bracing either side of the doorway, breathing heavily.

"Get back, the doors warded."

"It wasn't before," he said, stumbling back.

Ignoring him, she looked around for another way out, but everywhere she flung her mind was barred tight against them. The
witches
magic was strong and that could only stem from their blood. Looking up in desperation, her eyes halted on the thick glass skylights that were embedded in the sidewalk above. They hadn't thought to cast a web over the roof, but was she strong enough to break through?

"Tristan," she beckoned, pointing to the roof. "Give me a lift."

"Are you strong enough? Cos I know I can't break through god knows how many feet of glass and concrete."

"Just give me a lift," she hissed, pointing towards the tunnel she'd just caved in. "That won't stop them for long." They were running out of time and she hated to admit it, but that little show had just drained her power considerably. And she'd have to call on it once more before they could get out of here.

Tristan linked his fingers together, bending over so she could anchor her foot in his hands. "Ready, go," he said and pushed her up with as much force as he could muster.

Aya sailed up through the air, her hands shimmering with blue fire, and pressed against the glass with so much force it cracked and shattered like a thick layer of ice. She came back to land a second later, pushing Tristan out of the way of the falling shards.

"Bloody hell," he cursed.

"How high can you jump?" she asked, ignoring him.

"Me? What about you?"

"I can make it on my own."

"Fine, give us a lift."

This time Aya used her strength to give Tristan the extra height he needed to reach the hole she'd just blasted in the street above. He shot through into the night air with a yelp and she didn't wait to see if he'd landed safely before following him. She made it half way through before he grabbed her shoulder and heaved her up and out of the ticket hall.

Not wasting a second, Aya grabbed Tristan's arm and led him down the mostly deserted street away from the gaping hole in the sidewalk. There was enough litter around from the blast that no one would fall in until someone reported it or the Coven plugged it up again. Not that she was concerned with some random human hurting themselves, she was more interested in getting as far away from those mental witches as possible.

"Do you suppose it's safe to go back to the hotel?" he asked, once they had gone several blocks.

"Yes," she nodded, looking back over her shoulder. A moment later, when she was satisfied they weren't being followed, she said, "They won't dare to come after me. Not outside of their territory. It's too much of a risk."

"Then let's get out of here before they come lookin'."

"With pleasure."

A
ya and Tristan didn't stop running until they reached the Park next to the Ritz. That had been a close call for everyone. They walked into the foyer of the hotel, the doorman looking at them perplexed. Both vampires were covered in dust and their faces were smeared with it.

"Well, that didn't quite go to plan, did it?" Tristan leant back against the wall, as the elevator slid down the shaft towards the ground floor.

"Not exactly, but at least now I know what needs to be done."

"You're goin' to kill them all, right? Not just take their power?"

"Yes."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. An attendant usually stood inside, but tonight it was empty and Aya was grateful that she wouldn’t have to compel the poor human. She was too tired for it right now.

"Have you ever done that before?" Tristan asked as the doors slid shut.

"What?" she asked, pressing the button for the fourth
floor.

"The hand thing. It was like a fuckin' earthquake."

"Not in a long time," Aya shrugged. "Not since before and not like that." If she relied on her power to get her out of bad situations all the time, then she would have no power at all. If she hadn't of
drunk
Zac's blood then they would currently be dead.
The permanent kind of dead.

When she opened the door to their room, she saw another envelope sitting innocently on the carpet. Joseph had obviously tried to contact them again while they were out smashing holes in the sidewalk.

"The witch?" Tristan asked, stepping around her.

"It would seem so." She bent down and picked it up, ripping the seal open.

Inside was a piece of paper with the words: 
Tomorrow, noon. You know where
. Slapping the note into Tristan's chest, he took it and flipped it over, his eyes scanning the message.

"I'm taking a shower," she said before he could say anything. Of course she was going to meet him. He had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

Aya didn't know whether it was stupidity or adrenaline that pushed Joseph to arrange their first meeting here at the British Museum of all places, but to force them under the nose of the Coven was foolhardy and it annoyed the hell out of her. It was then she looked up and saw Joseph staring at them from the steps of the museum. With a snarl, she strode towards him, but he took a few steps backwards and disappeared through the main entrance.

"Arrow," Tristan called out after her. "Let him be."

"Like hell," she said, and continued on into the museum.

Again, she felt Joseph's presence in the
Medieval
gallery and couldn't find it in herself to be calm.

"Did you know?" She pushed him hard into the wall, not caring she had hurt him.

"Know what?" he asked, eyes wide with fear. An angry vampire was one thing. An angry Celestine hybrid was a whole new kind of horror.

"What they can do to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Arrow, he doesn't know." Tristan pushed between them, severing her contact with the witch. How many times had he held her back in situations like these?
Too many to count.

"And I don't want to if that's how she reacts." Aya didn't know who Joseph intended that comment for, but she hissed at him like a cat, her hackles
raised
. "You went to the Coven," he said, this time to her.

"Oh and what a lovely reception it was," she said, the sarcasm dripping from her words like honey.

"Did you take Coraline?" he asked, the worry plain in his own voice.

"No," she cocked her head to the side with a sneer. "I took myself."

"What did they say?"

"They said nothing. They're psychopathic, that's what they are. They suggested suicide was my best option and proceeded to deny hiding anything. But, then again, it's not a thing they're hiding. It's a who."

"A who?" Joseph exclaimed.

"They wouldn't tell me, but I believe it's the Original Witch."

"The Original Witch? You mean the first of their line?"

"The one and the same."

"How is that even possible?"

"She was made with Celestine blood, not human, not like the Five. Who knows what she could do."

Joseph seemed to be frozen to the spot, totally lost for words at her tirade. "What about Coraline?" he managed to get out.

"What about her?"

"We haven't heard from her since she left to meet you that night at the Halloween Ball… she never came back. We tried to contact her, but it was like she was gone. We hoped she was with you."

"Nope," Aya shook her head. "After we spoke with her, she left. In a bit of a hurry if I remember correctly."

"Shortly after, the Six cornered us on the roof," Tristan interjected.

"What?" The blood began to drain from Joseph's face, leaving him with a sickly pallor.

"The Six might have taken her," the knight mused.

"I think you mean the Four," she said with a sly smile. "Well, the Coven
don't
have her."

"How do you know that?" Tristan asked, confused.

"I know her. I would have sensed if she was there."

"Then Regulus must have her," Joseph interrupted. "You have to save her."

"I have to save her?" Aya said with a raised eyebrow. "When am I going to do this?"

Joseph didn't seem to hear her. "You can take on Regulus. You can get in and get her out."

She shook her head, "Even if I could get in, there's not way of knowing if she's there at all. Not to mention, I have no idea where there is."

"She could be any number of places," Tristan said. "Regulus has houses scattered across the country, not to mention the
Four
have their own hiding places."

"So you're just going to leave her?" Joseph cried. "After the risk she took to go and meet you?"

"She knew what she was getting herself into," Aya narrowed her eyes at the witch. "Besides, they need her to get into the sanctuary. Wherever she is, she'll be safe for now."

"But…"

"But nothing," she sighed. "I will help Coraline, but in my own time. I won't let her die."

"You know what has to be done, Aeriaya," Joseph said. "The Coven needs to be destroyed and Regulus needs to follow."

"Oh, don't I know it," she huffed.

"Regulus has been looking for an in to the Coven for three hundred years. Victoria was the closest he ever came. The moment she was changed, her blood was useless. The Matriarch knew what she was going to do and she was blacklisted. If she came back and used her blood to enter the building, she would have been killed instantly. Regulus would never have gotten inside. And now Coraline will suffer the same fate. When he can't use her, she'll be either dead or a vampire."

"What else do you know about Victoria?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Everything concerns me," she hissed, holding the witch up against the wall with one hand. "Especially when it involves my kind." Joseph's heart was beating a hundred miles an hour and she let her eyes flicker to his neck where the flow of his blood called her vampire side.

"No," he gulped. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, just don't take my power."

Aya let her hand fall away, but not before shoving him one last time. Tristan placed a hand on her shoulder, a useless gesture designed to calm her down.

"I don't know much," Joseph began. "It's a second hand tale, obviously. I only know what Corrie told me."

Aya cocked her head to the side. She supposed Corrie was short for Coraline.

"Victoria was born of the Coven, as you know, but she was born with a talent so small that it was almost missed by the circle at the time. It was that tiny spark of power that saved her life as a child and they never let her forget it. She grew up bitter and hard as a result and won no friends or husband.
Until Regulus came along.
She knew exactly what he was and she went willingly with him, knowing what would become of her. He showed her one sliver of kindness and she was his. The Coven brought her defection upon themselves, but they were smart enough to realize what she was about to do."

"She was going to let Regulus into the sanctuary?"

"Yes, I suppose he wanted whoever they were hiding away. But even Victoria didn't know. I mean, why would they tell her?" Joseph shook his head. "The Coven had blacklisted her, but she had no idea until she smuggled Regulus inside. The Coven almost killed him and her, but he managed to escape and for some reason he took Victoria with him. Corrie said she was dying, that's why she begged Regulus to turn her. I don't know the real reason why, but Victoria thought that he loved her. After that, I suppose, is when you met her."

Something inside Aya almost felt sorry for her. The Coven had shunned her, her own family, and Regulus had manipulated her for his own end. The monster that she'd turned into had destroyed Zac and his brother and hunted her halfway across the world. She couldn't feel sorry for that. The brothers never wanted to be vampires. Aya would never be sorry for setting foot in America, despite the doubts she had, but it was a silver lining kind of sorry. Zac would have been human and he would have died in the American Civil War at the too young age of twenty-three. But now he was a vampire and she had had the chance to love him and would still get the chance if they all came out the other side of this alive.

"I don't know what will happen next," Aya said quietly. "But, it won't be good. I'll do whatever I can, but I cannot make any promises to you, Joseph."

Without another word, she strode across the gallery and back out into the museum proper and it's stream of tourists.

Aya believed Victoria didn't understand what would happen when she made the brothers. No member of the Coven had been turned and lived to tell about it, let alone turn another human being. From what Zac'd told her, Sam hadn't completed the change before he tore off Victoria's head. If anyone figured out that she turned Zac's brother as well, then Sam wouldn't be safe. Liz, Alex and Gabby would be collateral damage. Their existence had to be kept safe.

Unless Coraline was no longer useful to them, Zac was next in line. Aya couldn't let that happen.

Outside, the day had begun to darken and the air was crisp with frost. Winter saw the sun begin to set at the ungodly hour of three-thirty pm and it made the grey stone city seem all the more dreary. Pausing around the corner by a shop front, an off-licence full of beer, cigarettes and over priced conveniences, she rested her throbbing head against the cool facade. A monumental task had been set before her and she didn't know where to start.

She felt Tristan stand beside her and was suddenly glad he found it necessary to follow her like a shadow. His presence was reassuring when nothing seemed to be going her way. Turning around and leaning against the wall, she listened to the street around them as much to clear her mind as to wonder. If Regulus
was
so desperate to get into the sanctuary, would the Four be hovering around the edges of it? Listening with everything she had, she heard it. Or at least she hoped she did. Last time it hadn't been there at all.

"Tristan, we have to get Zac back," she suddenly declared.

"Why? Because of his blood?" It was like the knight had been reading her mind.

"That's not all and you know it," she glared at him.

"You can't hear him anymore. How do you expect to even find him?"

She leant against the wall of the off license, watching the entrance to the museum. Witches weren't the only supernaturals she'd seen hanging around Bloomsbury. Regulus' thugs had caught a whiff of what was going on, she was sure of it.
The concealed entrance to the old tube station was being watched by more than it's inhabitants
. The witches were careful who they let see their movements, but nothing escaped her.

Her attention shifted to the side of the museum, Montague
street
, where the road was lined with hotels crammed into old grey stone buildings. Just as she suspected, the Four stood there bickering amongst themselves. They were probably still annoyed that they'd given them the slip at that Halloween party and she didn't bother listening in.