Page 71 of The Second Sight
The scar Theia had given him in the Goree Island war. A wound from an enchanted golden blade that never properly healed, even with all his dark magic. It was him, without question.
“He wasn’t alone,” she continued, her hands still trembling slightly. “Tarus was waiting for him at Door 7 arrivals in a black SUV, the same hunter that take Brooklyn.” Her voice quivered on her friend’s name. “I think it’s happening now, or already happened. I can’t always tell with these visions.”
“But given Lily’s intelligence about the warehouse preparations, Desmond must have just arrived.”
I shifted gears abruptly, the Porsche’s engine roaring as I accelerated down Kingery Highway. Traffic was almost non-existent this late at night. A few but vehicles still dotted the road. They mere obstacles to be navigated around. My reflexes allowed me to weave between them with precision that would have made a professional racecar driver envious.
“His arrival changes things,” I said, more to myself than to Kasi. “Desmond doesn’t leave his sanctuary in Liberia unless something significant is happening.”
“What does he want?” Kasi asked, gripping the door handle as I took a corner faster than human safety would suggest.
What did he want? The same thing he’d always wanted, power. Immortality without the vampire’s curse. The magic that flowed in fae blood, especially yumboe blood.
“You,” I said simply. “Or more precisely, your blood. The Bambara Brotherhood sustains itself on fae blood, but their leader, Desmond especially. He consumes it to extend his life through rituals.”
I didn’t tell her the rest, that Desmond had a particular hatred for the African fairies. He’d decimated their numbers in Africa decades ago in what amounted to the genocide we all called the Fall of the Fae.
Kasi absorbed this with remarkable composure. “Do you really think Brooklyn still alive?”
“Yes,” I assured her. “The Bambara won’t harm her until they have you. They need her alive as leverage.”
I didn’t add that once they had Kasi, Brooklyn’s fate would be sealed. Humans who witnessed Bambara rituals never survived. The Brotherhood left no witnesses to their dark practices.
The road stretched before us, the mansion now just minutes away.
“We’ll reach the manor soon,” I said, my voice deeper than normal. “Lily will have gathered the coven fighters. The yumboe will be waiting as well.”
“Will it be enough?” Kasi asked, her eyes meeting mine. “Against Desmond?”
Desmond Moreau had survived for centuries himself, though through different means than vampire immortality. He’d slaughtered fae, werewolves and vampires alike in his time. His power was considerable.
“It will have to be,” I replied, unwilling to feed her fear.
The gates of Crackstone Manor appeared ahead, their wrought iron intricacy was a familiar sight that normally brought comfort. Tonight, they represented a fortress, a gathering place for the forces that would stand against Desmond Moreau and his Bambara Brotherhood.
I pressed the accelerator harder, the Porsche responding with a surge of power that pressed us back into our seats. Time was against us. Brooklyn’s life hung in the balance. And somewhere in Chicago, the monster who had haunted my nightmares for centuries prepared his next move.
We would be ready for him. I would not fail again. I would not lose another woman I loved to Desmond’s cruelty.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
SEVEN
Iburst through the doors of my mansion with Kasi at my side. Four centuries of survival had honed my instincts to detect the slightest hint of danger, and tonight those instincts screamed that everything I valued was at stake. My hand remained firmly at the small of Kasi’s back, guiding her through the grand foyer toward my private study where I could sense the others waiting.
We moved swiftly down the hallway lined with portraits of my ancestors or rather, the human family I’d once belonged to, their faces frozen in time while I continued my endless march through the centuries. At the end of the corridor stood the heavy oak doors of my study. I didn’t bother to knock.
The doors swung open at my touch. The heavy velvet drapes were drawn tight against the night, no sliver of moonlight permitted to enter this space where supernatural beings now gathered. Ancient grimoires and leather-bound books lined the walls from floor to ceiling, their spines bearing titles in languages long dead to the modern world. My mahogany desk dominated the center of the room.
Lily stood beside it, her posture rigid. The yumboe, Romeca and Kyren kept their distance at the far side of the room. Thetension was palpable, fairy and vampire forced into an uneasy alliance by circumstances none of us had anticipated.
Lily stepped forward. “Desmond Moreau landed at O’Hare thirty minutes ago,” she reported. “My informant watched him descend the escalator to baggage claim, where Tarus and Gideon were waiting with the black SUV.”
My fists clenched involuntarily at the confirmation of Kasi’s vision. She didn’t see Gideon. What did that mean.
“Your vision was accurate, then,” I said to Kasi, forcing my voice to remain steady despite the fury building inside me. “Desmond has indeed come personally to Chicago. Then we have little time,” I stated.
