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“Aidan, that’s not what I meant. But your father was meddling with dark magic he shouldn’t have touched. And in the end it killed him.”
“No!” Aidan slammed his hand against the desk. “The Amhas-draoi killed him. And I’m not going to crawl to them for help. That’s final.”
“Then if you’re intent on destroying yourself, can you at least refrain from spells that threaten to destroy the house and terrify the servants?” Jack pleaded. “I’m having the devil of a time trying to convince them it was an extremely localized earthquake. Dublin isn’t exactly known for its tremors.”
Aidan waved him off with a dismissive gesture of agreement, though even now he seemed only half-aware of his surroundings. “No more fireworks, I promise. Cat will keep me honest. Won’t you, Cat?”
Startled at being addressed, she flashed a worried nod in Aidan’s direction, but her eyes held Jack’s for long moments after.
He answered with a half nod. A decisive look in his cousin’s direction. Tense lines tightened his mouth. “I begin to pray for your sake, she does.”
Lazarus collared a man stepping from a hackney. In the light of the lamps, the man’s supercilious gaze melted into bewilderment then fear.
“Kilronan House?” Lazarus growled.
The man pointed back up the street. “North of the river. Henry Street. You can’t miss it.”
The coachman shouted down from his box. “Here now! What ya on about pesterin’ folks?”
Lazarus settled his grave stare on the coachman. Felt the unnerving ripple of mage energy like the stirring of a serpent within him. It slithered from its resting place. Glided with deathly intent along limbs that had once stalked the forests of Gwynedd. Fired blood that had once pounded in battle allegiance to Prince Hywel. Sustained a body that, but for the Great One’s black magics, would have remained buried and forgotten.
The mage energy charged the air. Crackled with a heat and light only he could see, but all could feel.
Frozen in stupefied horror, the gentleman at his shoulder and the coachman upon his box could do nothing but watch the creature in front of them and wait for their destruction.
It never came.
Lazarus fed the evil before it overpowered him. Turned it inward to feast upon his few tattered yet precious memories. And sated, it retreated to sleep.
But only for a time. When it woke it would be angry. Starved for destruction. For killing. He’d not be able to deny it a second time. Didn’t want to. He had few memories left. He clung to them with the strength of two lifetimes.
Lazarus released his captive with a shove, sending the man stumbling back into the sanctuary of the hackney. Even before the door slammed shut, the horses had been set to. The coachman barreling down the street as if pursued by the devil.
He let them go. And with a steady, unerring tread, made his way toward Henry Street.
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Kilronan would feel the strike of deadly force. Fall beneath the foul weight of Lazarus’s mage energy.
Nothing would stay his hand this time.
No memory would be enough.
Everything hurt. Down to his hair. His mouth felt as fuzzy as his brain, wine sour and gritty. And even the faded smell of the evening’s cooking was enough to roll his stomach. To combat the nausea, he sat with a cup of black coffee. Dry toast. More black coffee.
Hunched over the kitchen’s scrubbed worktable, head resting in his hands, he heard the swish of skirts. The drawing back of a chair.
“Jack told me I’d find you down here. And he was right. You do look like death on a mop head.”
Aidan looked up into Cat’s solemn green eyes. “As usual, Jack’s choice of phrase is so complimentary.” He winced as his voice reverberated through his paper skull “Spot on, nonetheless.” He sipped at the coffee in front of him. “You couldn’t sleep either?”
She offered him an are-you-insane stare, and he glanced to where her hands rested on the closed cover of a slim, leather-bound volume. Raised a curious brow, but waited for her to initiate.
“Not exactly easy to drift off after tonight’s events . . .” Her words trailed off into an accusatory silence.
Aidan nibbled the crust of his toast. Tasteless and burnt on one edge, but at least it stayed down. “I told you before, I was excited. And perhaps a bit too self-confident, but the spell worked. Did you see it? The summoning brought—”
“A demon. Here.” Her hands and her voice convulsed before she brought both under control once again. “You pulled an Unseelie across the divide, Aidan. You almost joined with it. Let the creature take over your skin. Inhabit your flesh.”
