Snakeroot

  Audrey sat on the chaise, examining her nails.

  “I think I need a new manicurist,” Audrey told Logan, as if he cared. “This one can’t seem to get the gloss on the polish right.”

  “Audrey.” Logan sat in the chair to the right of the chaise. “I was hoping to talk with you about something.”

  “Sounds serious.” Audrey continued to inspect her manicure.

  When Logan didn’t reply, Audrey dragged her gaze away from her varnished nails. “Ugh, Logan. Is it serious? Don’t we have enough going on?”

  “I’m sorry,” Logan said, and Audrey’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was laying it on too thick. Changing tack, Logan continued, “I’m sure the replacement of your manicurist deserves your time far more than our shot at immortality.”

  “Well, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it,” Audrey huffed. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “Can we take a walk?” Logan asked.

  “It’s freezing out,” Audrey objected.

  “Wear a coat,” Logan shot back. “Look, I don’t want Chase barging in on us. I need to talk to you alone.”

  “Oh my God, Logan, I thought you said this was about immortality.” Audrey’s mouth twisted in revulsion. “Did I hear you incorrectly? Because I don’t care what you do, but I do not want to hear about any boy drama you’re having with my brother. That’s not my job.”

  “Don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell.” God, I really, really hate you. “Let’s go down to the beach.” Logan stood up. “And I’ll tell you what’s going on.”

  With a lengthy show of sulking and an endless stream of complaints, Audrey donned a coat and finally let Logan open the terrace door for her so they could make their way to the shore. When Logan’s feet sank into the sand, he felt a charge of anticipation. It was time.

  “Okay, Logan, I came outside. We’re on the beach. Now, why am I freezing my ass off out here?” Audrey rubbed her arms for effect.

  “You won’t be for long,” Logan answered. “It’s just . . . he wants to speak with you. And just you. Not Chase.”

  “Who wants to speak with me?” Audrey frowned at him.

  When Logan simply watched her, waiting, Audrey’s eyes grew large.

  “You mean him?” she gasped. “But why?”

  “Maybe it’s all that brilliance you’ve demonstrated,” Logan snarked. “All I know is that he asked to see you.”

  “How can that . . . how is it possible?” Audrey began to fidget. “He’s cut off from us now. Isn’t he?”

  “He’s confined to his realm, yes,” Logan said. “But with the proper rites, I can speak with him. I’ve done it once. And if you agree, I’ll summon him now.”

  “Now?” Audrey gaped at Logan. “Right now?”

  “Yes, right now.” Logan had already been edgy, and as usual, Audrey was getting on his nerves. He pointed at the bright moon overhead. “It’s the appropriate time of night to do this kind of spellwork.”

  Audrey stared at him, and Logan decided she looked like a dumb cow chewing cud.

  “Well?” Logan asked.

  “Uh . . . I . . . um . . . okay.” Her voice had gotten very small, and Logan almost felt guilty about the cow thing. “Logan, can I ask you something?” Audrey sounded shy, almost embarrassed to be speaking.

  “Of course,” Logan replied, though he was impatient to get on with the summoning.

  “If we can really do this . . . I mean get our powers back,” Audrey said, “can we have Guardians again?”

  “God, Audrey,” Logan scoffed. “Why would we—”

  “I don’t mean the awful ones, like that mean one you summoned who doesn’t want to help us and only does it because he has to,” Audrey told him. “I just thought we could have some of the nice ones back. The ones who liked us.”

  She kicked at the sand, unable to meet Logan’s puzzled gaze, but Audrey didn’t need to say anything more. The picture painted itself vividly as Logan watched her squirm in the discomfort of her unintentional confession.

  The only one around to pay Audrey compliments and offer her adoration, even if it was most likely feigned, had been her pet Guardian . . . Joel, Chase had called him. The spoiled girl was lonely and she wanted her forced friend back. How sad . . . and pathetic.

  None of them liked us, you stupid child. If Joel had known about the rebellion before he was transformed into a wild wolf, he no doubt would have slit your throat while you slept.

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to have whatever you want,” Logan said quietly. “That’s the beauty of being a Keeper. Isn’t it?”

  Audrey offered a little smile and nodded.

  “May I continue?” Logan asked her.

  “Yes,” Audrey said. “Go ahead.”

  “Good.” He drew the knife from his coat pocket and Audrey gasped again.

  “What’s that for?”

  “It’s for cutting,” Logan answered drily. Without hesitating, he drew the blade in a swift stroke, tracing the scar on his palm.

  Though he wasn’t looking at her, Logan heard Audrey whimper as he held his palm out. His blood rained onto the sand, mingling with the waves that lapped the shoreline.

  “Don’t worry,” Logan said without turning to face Audrey. “You don’t have to use the knife.”

  As he spoke the words of the incantation that would summon Bosque, Logan’s skin prickled with fortune’s fickle nature. He’d uttered the same phrases to call Bosque to Rowan Estate, knowing it might lead to the downfall of the Harbinger, handing victory to the Searchers. Now he invoked the same magic with opposite purpose—to restore instead of destroy.

  He didn’t need to do it this way. Logan had already established that he could call upon Bosque by blood and will alone. But tonight he needed to give Audrey a show.

  The retreating waves pulled Logan’s blood into the sea, and soon the water’s surface began to stir. A small patch of ocean seethed and boiled as a shape rose from beneath the dark waters.

  “Logan.” Audrey grasped his hand, but he shook her off.

  “Show a little dignity,” Logan whispered harshly.

  The silhouette of a man, obscured by the night, came toward them. Logan could sense the fear emanating from Audrey, but he ignored it, focusing on Bosque. Logan was a little surprised when Audrey fell to her knees before he did.

  At least she has enough sense to show deference.

  Logan knelt beside Audrey as Bosque’s features were revealed by the moonlight.

  “What have we here?” Bosque’s gaze immediately fell upon Audrey.

  “A fellow Keeper,” Logan answered. “Audrey and her brother have aided me in my quest to reach you.”

  My quest? Really? Logan didn’t think he’d ever said anything more lame.

  “I see.” Bosque regarded Audrey curiously.

  She lifted her face, casting a timid glance at the Harbinger. “How are you . . . sir?”

  Well, that was much worse that what Logan had said. It would make what was coming easier . . . maybe.

  “Intrigued,” Bosque answered Audrey. He returned his attention to Logan. “You summoned me.”

  “I did.” Logan found it strange that his pulse wasn’t racing. Instead it rolled through his veins, heavy and insistent as a dirge. “I’m ready to continue the conversation we’d begun.”

  The barest hint of a smile appeared on Bosque’s mouth.

  That was all Logan needed.

  Logan grabbed Audrey by her hair, jerking her head back. He drew the knife across her throat, the cut so deep and swift that surprise had hardly registered on her face before she bled out in the sand. It was fast. It was easy. Logan felt a surge of triumph.

  “A worthy offering.” Bosque gazed at Audrey’s limp form. “You’ve managed to impress me, Logan.”

  Bowing his head, Logan said, “Thank you.”

  “Worthy, yes,” Bosque continued. “But it will not be enough.”

  Logan barely stopped himself from shouting an objection. He c
lenched his fists and maintained his submissive posture. “I don’t understand.”

  “To cross over, I must be invited,” Bosque said, his voice quiet enough that the waves almost muffled it. “By someone of this earth.”

  Daring to look up, Logan asked, “And I don’t qualify?”

  Bosque regarded Logan with disdain. “You especially.”

  “Because of my blood,” Logan said.

  “Yes.” Bosque nodded. “But no Keeper will be able to complete the rite. Anyone who swore a blood oath to me while I walked this realm does not have the power to open the Rift. Only one tied to the earth and its power can wound this world enough to give me passage.”

  “It was Eira who opened the Rift in the beginning,” Logan said.

  “A knight of Conatus,” Bosque finished Logan’s thought. “And only one such as she can repeat the task.”

  The brief flare of triumph Logan had felt after winning Bosque’s approval was drowned in fresh disappointment.

  “There is someone.” Bosque’s voice reached Logan through the noise of his self-pity.

  Logan couldn’t hide his disbelief. “Who?”

  “The girl called Ariadne.” Bosque said her name softly, with near reverence.

  “Adne?” Logan blurted, then hurried to cover his outburst. “Forgive me, but . . .”

  Bosque tilted his head, gauging Logan’s reaction. “Yes?”

  Taking a deep breath, Logan said, “I can’t think of anyone who has more reason to hate me.”

  “I find it hard to believe your charming nature didn’t win her over,” Bosque said smoothly.

  Logan took the insult with chagrin.

  “Her feelings toward you are irrelevant,” Bosque continued. “She has the power required to bring me into this world. It is Ariadne you need and Ariadne alone.”

  When Logan continued to sulk in silence, Bosque said, “Are you so blind that you can’t see I’ve already given you what you need to win this girl?”

  Logan looked at Bosque and frowned.

  “You so easily came to the right conclusion in the case of Sarah Doran, yet you stumble blindly around the matter of this girl.” Obviously irked, Bosque spoke in a curt tone. “Ariadne hates you because what she loved was taken from her. Give it back.”

  Logan almost laughed. God, I am a moron. “Renier.”

  This time Bosque’s smile was indulgent. “See about it. Don’t delay.”

  “I won’t.” Logan glanced at Audrey’s lifeless body and didn’t quite manage to stifle his sigh.

  “You’re worried about her brother?” Bosque seemed to pull the thought from Logan’s mind.

  “Yes,” Logan admitted. “It could be a problem.”

  It will be a problem. God only knows why, but Chase liked his sister.

  “A solution will soon be at your door,” Bosque told Logan.

  “Really?” Logan frowned. “How so?”

  “You might not sound so eager when I’ve told you what it is,” Bosque said. “The Searchers. They’re coming for you.”

  Alarm jolted through Logan’s body. “What?”

  “Even now they’re nearing the house,” Bosque continued. “Go into town, get your friend, and flee. Blame the girl’s death on your enemy. Now go.”

  Nodding mutely, Logan turned and ran.

  IT WASN’T THE mission Connor had in mind. He’d envisioned coming back to Montauk with Ethan and Shiloh, snatching Logan, and getting the hell out of there. Quick, clean, done.

  Three teams felt like overkill. Over-overkill.

  Of course Holt had demanded a piece of the action for his Pyralis team. The newly composed Eydis team felt the necessity to prove themselves. Since the Haldis team had identified the target, they were obliged to lead the strike. Fortunately, Pascal had sense enough to insist that Tordis didn’t need to be an act in this circus.

  Connor grudgingly admitted that the benefit of having three teams on the mission was that they were able to surround the house while his team went in, greatly decreasing the chances of any of the Keepers giving them the slip. And they were after all three Keepers, since Holt had spent a good fifteen minutes berating the rest of the group about the dangers in leaving Logan’s “accomplices” behind.

  Holt had a point, but Connor had trouble putting the two socialites he’d observed in the same class as Logan. Before today, the other young Keepers hadn’t been so much as a blip on the Searchers’ radar. They were the vein of Keepers that didn’t have run-ins with Searchers. They enjoyed the wealth and power bestowed by their fealty to Bosque Mar, but that was about as far as it went.

  By the time the new mission had been settled on, Connor was kicking himself for not having just strolled up to the house and dragged Logan out of it. Instead it was three hours later and Connor was watching Mikaela weave a door to Montauk for the second time that night.

  At least this door was closer. Connor stepped through the portal and onto the snow-covered lawn.

  Sensing Ethan and Shiloh at his flank, Connor said, “Let’s go.”

  Mikaela closed the door behind them. This time she would remain in the safe confines of the Academy. They only needed one Weaver to get back and it had been decided that a more experienced Searcher was better suited to that task.

  The trio moved quietly and swiftly up the stairs and onto the terrace. The lights were on inside the house, but the living room was empty. With Shiloh and Ethan covering him, Connor went to the door and was surprised to find it unlocked. He waved for the other Strikers to follow him inside.

  Though Connor didn’t see anyone, the house had signs of being recently occupied. Unfinished cocktails sat on the coffee table. Music filtered through speakers surrounding the room.

  It’s the middle of the night, Connor told himself to counteract the sinking feeling in his stomach. They’re in bed.

  Signaling Ethan and Shiloh to secure the main floor, Connor made his way up the stairs. He searched the master suite and two bedrooms, finding them all empty.

  He’s gone. Damn it all. He’s really gone.

  Deflated, Connor headed back downstairs.

  Ethan was waiting in the living room. “Anything?”

  “No,” Connor answered. “They’re not here.”

  “We should search the grounds,” Ethan said. “I sent Shiloh to call in the other teams.”

  Evidence of Ethan’s words arrived in the unpleasant form of Holt.

  “What do you mean they’re not here?” Holt stormed into the living room. “I thought you had good intelligence about this place.”

  “We did.” Connor checked his temper. He didn’t want to give Holt the chance to place the blame on Anika.

  “Then can you explain why three Keepers would up and leave their house at two in the morning?” Holt had the sort of face that became tomato red when he was upset. From the current shade of Holt’s cheeks, Connor discerned that he was very, very upset.

  “Holt!” One of the Pyralis Strikers came running into the room. “We found something.”

  “Show me.” Holt grabbed the Striker by the elbow and was out the door immediately.

  Ethan half groaned. “We better follow him.”

  Connor nodded and they went out into the night.

  A group of Searchers, and it appeared to be most of the teams, had gathered on the beach.

  “Do you think they’re having a clambake?” Connor joked, but he couldn’t shake the bad feeling that rattled his bones.

  “No threat?” Holt had apparently seen whatever there was to see and now pushed his way through Searchers to confront Connor and Ethan. “All Keepers are monsters.”

  “We need a little more information before we can agree or disagree with you,” Ethan answered. He rather indelicately knocked Holt out of the way.

  Connor followed Ethan into the small crowd. They were looking at a body.

  The girl’s throat had been cut deeply and cleanly. No doubt she’d died within the space of a minute. And Connor recognized her.


  Ethan said it first. “She was in the living room.”

  “I know.” Connor turned away, not wanting to see the girl’s glassy eyes for another second.

  “Do you agree with me now?” Holt thrust himself in Connor’s path.

  “Haven’t decided,” Connor told him. “That girl was with Logan and another boy. My money was on her being one of them. Her being dead on the beach doesn’t quite add up.”

  “What more do you need to know than that she’s dead?” Holt argued. “Obviously murdered.”

  Connor couldn’t deny that. The girl had died violently. What Connor didn’t understand was why.

  What are you up to, Logan?

  Holt gave up on Connor and returned to the beach. Ethan fell into step beside his friend.

  “What do you make of it?”

  Connor just shook his head.

  “I know,” Ethan said quietly. “I know.”

  Behind them, Holt’s voice rose to compete with the waves hitting the shore. Connor couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he didn’t expect he’d want to hear it anyway.

  Loud voices rose to answer Holt’s shouting. The shouts became a chant, and Connor turned around.

  “What the—”

  He grabbed Ethan’s arm and jerked them both out of the path of the sudden onslaught of Searchers tearing up from the beach. Paying no mind to Connor or Ethan, the mob surged into the house. The sounds of breaking glass and smashing objects joined their frenzied cries.

  Ethan started toward the house, but Connor held him back.

  “That’s a riot, friend,” Connor said. “Better not get in its way.”

  “Are you telling me you’re okay with that happening?” Ethan glared at him.

  “Far from it,” Connor replied. “But going in there now would be like trying to calm a rabid dog by petting it. We’ll deal with this, but not now.”

  While a sizable group of Searchers had taken up with Holt in destroying the house, Connor was reassured to see others hanging back. When he spotted the Weaver from Eydis, Hernan, among them, he quietly rounded up Shiloh and Ethan.