“Easy,” Darien muttered. “I’d be willing to bet she wants to talk first.”
Calanthe’s voice was strong yet feminine, old yet at the same time young. “But of course I want to talk, Darien Cassel.” Damn. He’d nearly forgotten how keen a vampire’s hearing was. It was even better than his own. “Especially now that I see the small battalion you’ve assembled for my arrival. I suppose I should feel flattered.” Her short gray hair shone silver in the drumming rain.
Nobody said anything as one of the most powerful vampires to ever walk this continent strode up to their group, stopping a foot from where Logan and Darien waited at the head of it. Four bodyguards stood around her, two at each side.
And behind them, stepping out of the backseat with a fifth bodyguard, was Emilie, Calanthe’s nineteen-year-old daughter and heir apparent.
At the sight of Emilie, Logan’s shoulders visibly relaxed. He hadn’t mentioned anything to Darien about Emilie during their many arguments these past few hours, but Darien sensed there was something going on between the two. Though Darien knew the way they looked at each other was strictly platonic; Emilie preferred the company of women to men.
To be more specific, she preferred the company of Chrysantha. Despite the centuries of hatred between werewolves and vampires, the two had been friends for years, but had become more than friends in recent months, according to rumor.
“Shall we get out of the rain, Mister Sands?” Calanthe said to Logan in a singsong voice. Emilie came up behind her, her white cherub-like face guarded, her spiky blonde hair sparkling with rain. “I’m not terribly fond of the wet and the cold.”
Calanthe didn’t wait for approval before strutting alongside her guards and heir apparent through the group of wolves and slayers, right up to Logan’s peeling door, as if she owned the place.
Darien couldn’t help but chuckle as he and the others followed them in.
—
Darien couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
As they stood in Logan’s kitchen—slightly cleaner now, thanks to Logan having anticipated company—Calanthe waited for someone to speak. To either accept or deny the offer she’d made as she sat at the head of Logan’s table. Beneath her, the chair looked more like a throne than the lopsided wooden seat it really was.
Calanthe had been notified by her people that several bounty hunters marked with a phoenix head were not only working Randal Slade’s soil but were also searching for an ancient artefact called the Arcanum Well. Her eyes throughout the city—and the ongoing disappearances of mortal, college-age girls—had also alerted her to the fact that a human had something to do with it. Darien had offered up zero information about Loren, nor did he tell them about the half of the Dominus Volumen they’d found on the Angelthene Academy grounds. Neither had the other Devils—not even Lace, who Darien knew would gladly rip off Loren’s face if given the chance. In fact, he and the other four Devils who were present had hardly said anything as Calanthe explained herself.
And seconds ago, Calanthe had offered to unite with the wolves and the Devils in catching those were responsible for the missing girls and keeping the Well from falling into the wrong hands. Considering the power of Calanthe’s covens, and the upper hand they would receive by having them for allies, it was almost too good to be true.
So, Darien kept his mouth shut, listening closely in case anything she said didn’t add up.
It was Logan who spoke first. “Wait. You’re telling me you want tohelpus.” He gave the vampire an incredulous look, to which she did nothing but stare in stony silence at him. “I broke the pact. Why would you want to help us after that?”
Calanthe folded her gloved hands atop the table. “Because for the first time in what is possibly hundreds of years, we share a common enemy. And I have no interest in being ousted from my place in society to satisfy some lunatic’s drive for more power.”
Darien wasn’t surprised Calanthe would find some way to make the situation about her. Scarlet Star forbid she be ousted by some unnamed force from her place near the very top of the corrupt hierarchy.
Where Darien was leaning against the counter by the sink, arms crossed, he said, “I have a few questions.”
Calanthe cocked her head, somehow managing to look down her nose at him, despite that he was standing, and she was the only one in the room, aside from Logan, who was sitting. “I’ve been waiting for you to speak all afternoon, Mister Cassel. What can I do for you?”
“What do you know of this Arcanum Well? You say, ‘some lunatic’s drive for more power.’ What do you know of this Well, and why does everyone want it?”
“According to legend, the Arcanum Well was a restorative body of water that had the ability to make a person into something Other via a process known astransmutation. Erasmus Sophronia and his best friend Elix Danik were two of several humans who were tired of being oppressed; tired of the bullying they were faced with throughout their years of education. I don’t know how they did it, but over two thousand years ago, Erasmus Sophronia and Elix Danik created an object that turned themselves, and their friends, immortal. They called their little circle the Phoenix Head Society, named for the bird’s regenerative abilities, for they, too, were regenerated by the Well. They werereborn. They named their act of rebirth theInitiation,and it was only granted to people Erasmus and Elix deemed worthy of receiving it.”
Erasmus SophroniaandElix Danik.Darien made a mental note of those two names so he could look into them later.
At Darien’s side, Lace said, “You think someone is looking for it because they want to make themselves immortal?”
“The most obvious answer,” Calanthe said patiently, “is that a mortal is behind this, Miss Rivera. Based on what little history remains of the Well and the Phoenix Head Society, one might assume that only a mortal would benefit from the creation of something like this Well. But so little information on the artefact exists that it’s hard to say if granting immortal life is all the Well can do. Perhaps it can also give an immortal more power.”
It was Tanner who said, “What if it has to do with the Tricking?” He drummed his fingers on the counter. “People have been looking for a cure to the Tricking for centuries; if this Well can grant immortal life or give a person more power, it might be able to heal the Tricking, too.”
“Which means,” Emilie continued his thought, her eyes widening with realization, “that a person would have unlimited access to their magic for the first time in history—and without the risk of getting sick.”
Tanner was nodding his head. “Precisely.”
“It’s a highly plausible explanation,” Calanthe said. “And one I commend you for making, Mister Atlas.”
“And what does this have to do with a human girl?” Darien cut in. “Why look for her if it’s just the Well they want?” Was it as simple as the Dominus Volumen? Would handing over the scroll make Loren safe again?
