AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you certain that Wynter is partly in the dark as she claims?”
“Yes. She has no reason to lie about that, because she knows I’d accept the situation either way.”
“Good point.” Azazel went to speak again, but he hesitated on hearing footfalls heading their way.
Moments later, Maxim appeared, an odd expression on his face. “Sire, a conduit from Aeon is here.” The aide paused. “He claims that Abel wishes to speak with you. You and only you.”
Cain tensed, and his creature’s head snapped up. “Does he now?” Well, well, well. He exchanged a quick look with Azazel before sliding his gaze back to the aide. “Where is our visitor?” A rare species, conduits were able to provide a psychic space that would allow people in separate locations to project their consciousness to said space and communicate.
“The blue parlor of the manor, Sire,” replied Maxim.
“Thank you.” Cain rose from the bench. “Please inform the staff at the manor that I’ll be there shortly.”
The aide nodded and then stalked off.
“I suspected that the Aeons would send a conduit so they could speak with one or all of us,” said Azazel. “But I thought it would be Adam who’d request the meeting.”
Cain gave a fluid shrug. “It could be that he wishes us to believe that he isn’t much moved by the current situation.”
“Possibly. Whatever the case, we can be certain he hasn’t yet realized that Eve, Rima, and Noah are missing. Adam would have definitely wanted to be present for the meeting if he knew the trio was here.”
Cain nodded. “He would have been intent on personally insisting that we return them to him.”
“Noah did say it would be at least a week before anyone notices they’re gone. Well, considering Abel only wants to speak to you, it’s unlikely that he’s about to declare war on us. At least not so soon. One can but hope, though.”
As they followed the twisting, winding, paved path that would take them out of the garden, Cain couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d seen Abel—the bastard had been laughing, a sadistic glee in his eyes, as he and the other three ruling Aeons trapped the Ancients in a place now known as Devil’s Cradle. Back then, it had been barren land.
The Aeons had probably expected it to remain barren. They would never have believed that the Ancients would build not only a full city below it but a town on the surface. Would never have believed that the Ancients would survive, thrive, and not only welcome outsiders but turn their cage into a kingdom.
How did Cain know that? Because the Aeons wouldn’t have otherwise given them the chance to do so. They would have executed all seven Ancients on the spot rather than allow them to have a “life” of any kind. It no doubt maddened the Aeons that their actions backfired.
It would be strange to see his brother again after all this time. There would be nothing sentimental about the moment, however, since he and Abel had always been adversaries. They’d never been given the chance to be anything else.
Adam was to blame for that, but it wasn’t entirely his fault that Abel had always insisted on viewing Cain as his enemy. No, Abel had made the official decision to loathe Cain for a number of reasons, but mostly to impress and mirror his father.
Abel could have instead chosen to leave Cain be. Could have allowed that they were brothers to mean something. Could have pretended to hate Cain but treated him differently in secret, much as Seth had done. He’d decided to forever despise him instead. As such, it was unlikely that the upcoming meeting would be civil.
Inside the Keep, Azazel said, “I’ll gather the other Ancients at the manor. We’ll wait for you in the room next to the blue parlor.” With that, he headed for the exit.
Cain went upstairs to his chamber and crossed to the tall mirror he’d covered with a long black cloth so that Saul would be unable to use it as a “window.” Cain unveiled the mirror, placed his hand on the glass, and watched as it turned to black, rippling water. He stepped through the glass and out of an identical mirror, then finding himself in one of the manor’s bedrooms.
A short walk downstairs later, he entered the blue parlor—aptly named due to the teal walls. Cain gave his other aide, David, a nod of greeting. Settling his gaze on the blond, gangly male sitting on the sofa, Cain narrowed his eyes in recognition. “Ah, we’ve met once before, haven’t we?” This conduit had aided Cain in speaking with Lailah. “It’s Griff, correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Griff cleared his throat. “Abel is waiting for you.”
“Alone?”
Griff reached out to Cain, his fingers spread. “Yes.”
Trusting that David would alert him if a problem occurred while Cain’s consciousness was elsewhere, he pressed his fingertips to Griff’s. Abruptly, Cain’s surroundings shifted. The teal walls were gone, replaced by clinical-white walls that were as bright as the shiny tiles beneath his feet.
One of the two chairs in the psychic room had been taken by an all-too-familiar male with coppery brown hair, a stubborn jawline, and dark-green eyes that were filled with scorn.
Bristling at the mere sight of this person who had taken great pains to make Cain’s life hell, his inner creature coiled its muscles, raring to strike. Not that lunging would do much good in this place. No physical harm could come to anyone here.
Abel looked no different than he had when Cain last saw him. As an immortal, he’d stopped changing at a cellular level long ago. But his eyes had aged and even held a weary glint . . . as if all the things he’d seen, done, heard, and experienced over the years had driven away the youthful spark that had once lit his gaze.
“Hello, brother,” said Abel, his tone ever so pleasant and completely at contrast to his derisive expression.
