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“It’s not that simple, and if it’s about trust, it’s not about how much she trusts us, it’s about how much she trusts herself, and right now, that’s not a whole lot. She’s scared and desperate.” I walked back over to the desk and looked at the envelope. It had been addressed to her parents’ London address. She either knew we’d find it and thought we’d send it on, or maybe she was waiting for Hattie to come home and find it. I glanced back down at the letter, skimming through it, even as the entreaties inside pained me to read.
“The Golden Dawn...” Zayn mused. “Why is she going to them to kill herself? Why not just do it? Maybe she’s conflicted, thinks she won’t go through with it...”
I shook my head. “No, Tory’s one of the strongest people I know, even before she knew she was a fucking goddess. If she decides something, she does it.” I looked back down at the letter. “There. She wants to end it once and for all, that’s what she says. She thinks the Golden Dawn can kill her and stop her from reincarnating.”
“Because of the knife Onuris carried? But that’s crazy. They don’t know how to do that.”
“She doesn’t know that though,” I said. “The question is, how does she know where to go to find them now that the hunter is dead...” I lifted the lid of the laptop and heard the whirr as it started up.
“How about the other guy? The one we thought was the contact? The one who owned the business park. The lord.”
“Lord Fallon. Fuck, yes, that’ll be it. Really regretting introducing those two now. At least now I know where to look next. Come on.” I pocketed the note and the envelope and closed the laptop back down when it was clear she’d left no search windows running.
“And where are we going now?” Zayn asked, picking up his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder.
I grinned at him, my lion pacing inside me. “Oh, I think it’s time I paid my dear old friend Lord Fallon a visit, and if we get there and he’s harmed a single hair on her head...”
Zayn grinned back, but there was no warmth in it, only the cold, calculated look of a killer. “If he’s touched her, he’s going to spend the rest of his agonising life regretting it.”
Chapter four
TORY
WhatwaiteddowninFallon’s basement was not what I expected. We walked past storage rooms, a laundry room, and what looked like a rather nice wine cellar. Coulton stopped outside a heavy metal door and reached out to unlock it. He pushed the door open, and it swung inward, revealing only darkness beyond.
“After you.” He gestured politely.
I swallowed and took a few steps forward, fully expecting something to jump out of the shadows at me or for Coulton to stab me from behind. All that happened was that he stepped in behind me and flicked on the overhead light. Harsh fluorescent light spilled out over the room, and I turned to him in surprise. It looked more like a workroom than anything. Work benches lined the walls, with tools hung on neat peg boards above them. Several chairs stood in one corner with a broken chest of drawers, clearly awaiting repair. In the centre of the room was a long table, covered by a protective plastic cloth.
“What’s going on?” I asked, confused.
Coulton stepped forward and pulled the cloth from the table, and my eyes widened. It wasn’t a table. Underneath the cloth was a huge metal box.
“I don’t—” My words stopped at the feel of a sharp prick in my neck, and I spun around to see Coulton there with a syringe in his hand. “What the fuck?”
“You came here to die, Lady Victoria. Are you really that bothered about how you go?” His tone was cold and mocking.
I reached my hand up to my neck where he’d stuck me with the needle. “You poisoned me?” I could already feel a numbness travelling through me, and I blinked, trying to keep him in focus.
“Would it matter as long as you are no longer a danger to humanity?”
“No, I suppose not,” I replied. Everything felt numb, even my emotions. I was dying. I didn’t want to, but I had to. I carefully strung the thoughts together in my clouded mind. This was what I wanted. I just hadn’t thought I’d go to a workshop in a cellar with, no... I had thought with how Onuris had carried on that there might be more ceremony, more acknowledgement of the act.
Coulton moved around me and lifted the lid of the metal box, shifting it over so it hung down the other side. It seemed heavy, and I didn’t like the look of the padlocks. I stared down inside. Another box lay inside, this one made of wood, its lid closed. He reached down and opened that one too, revealing an Egyptian style coffin inside that.
“I’m not Russian...” I murmured.
“What?” Coulton looked over at me.
“Russian dolls, one inside another inside another inside another...” I rambled on. Whatever he’d given me was sending my mind into a meltdown, or maybe I’d just finally reached the end of my sanity.
Coulton lifted the final lid then turned to me. “Here.” He held out his hand, and I stared at it.
He sighed impatiently and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to him roughly. The side of my leg hit the edge of the metal box, and it stung. The pain seemed to shock me into clarity for a moment, and I tried to pull back.
“No.” Memories flashed before my eyes of being in a box not much larger than this one, the lid closing, then the sound of sand raining down and blocking out the light...
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered and dragged me back, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me into the coffin.
