Coveted (Gwen Sparks #3) - Page 42/49

“Gwen?”

“Do you hear it? It’s so beautiful.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

How could he not hear it? It was everywhere, bouncing off the trees and dancing on the wind. It filled my ears and consumed by body.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” My eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay open.

We stepped through the trees and into a clearing. Dorian’s arm wrapped around my shoulder and held me close. The scent of leather filled my nostrils and peace enveloped my body. I wanted to snuggle up against him and fall asleep, but there was something more important to do. What had I come here to do?

My head drooped against Dorian’s chest, my eyes straining to stay open. From this advantage point we could see in all angles. The barren land stretched on for forever.

“Gwen.” Dorian shook me, leaning over to look at my face. “What’s going on?”

I moaned, hating that he was disrupting my relaxation. “The music…so wonderful.”

“What music?” Dorian asked with aggravation. “I don’t hear anything.”

“Really?” My head lolled to the side when I tried lifting it. The melody was stronger this time, causing me to lose almost all control. I wobbled on my legs and had to reach out to hold onto Dorian.

Footsteps crunched against the ground. Dorian’s squeezed me tighter, shifting to the side to shield me from whoever was approaching. The instruments began fading, drifting away on the breeze, stirring up dust around my feet.

“I knew you’d make it,” a male voice said. A male voice with an English accent. My heartbeat sounded in my eardrums as I turned my head and looked into the eyes of my own personal boogeyman.

“’Ello, little witch.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“That’s not possible,” I breathed. My senses came rushing back, snapping into place and making me dizzy. Ian Despereaux was standing in front of me. Well, his sprit was. The old man flashed through my head. His eyes had been so familiar, and now I knew why.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” Ian said. “That hurts my feelings.”

“You’re dead,” I mumbled, looking up at Dorian. I don’t know what I was thinking when he’d said he had taken care of Ian’s soul. Somewhere in my mind I thought meant he had destroyed it.

“Hence the see-through body,” Ian replied. “Now, should we be on our way?”

“We?”

“You’re bound to this realm,” Dorian said. “There’s no leaving for you, but Gwen and I are out of here.” He grabbed my hand and said, “Come on.”

“Wait,” I said, digging in my heels when Dorian tried to get me to follow him. “How are you supposed to help me find my sister?”

Ian cocked his head to the side, his eyes devilishly amused. “That’s right, dear ol’ sis is counting on your success. It’d be a shame to let her down.”

“All right, enough riddles,” Dorian snapped. “You either tell us what we’re supposed to do, or stay here and rot. We’ll find Rebekah on our own.”

Ian tsked, shaking his head from side to side leisurely. “I’m afraid we’re on my terms, so it’d be best if you remembered that, Death.”

A gust of wind whipped across my face, stirring my hair. Ian took a step forward and reached out to brush the unruly strands away. Dorian’s hand snapped forward, his fingers curling around Ian’s wrist and solidifying his body before he could touch me.

A smile bent Ian’s mouth up. “I see another man has fallen at your feet. I wonder what it is about you, little witch, that turns wise men to fools?”

“Cut the shit, Ian, and tell us what we’re supposed to do.” Time was running out, or maybe that was his plan: wait until the last possible second before giving instructions so that he would get what he wanted, but I’d still lose my sister.

He took an exaggerated breath, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically. “Oh, very well. First lover boy must lift the ban. As soon as I’m on the other side of this hell hole, you’ll get the next set of orders.”

“So you lured me here so we could spring you? That doesn’t make sense, you were already out. You were the creepy old guy, right?”

“Not going to happen,” Dorian added. “As soon as you’re out, what’s to keep you from vanishing?”

Dorian had a point, as always. And we didn’t have time to track down Ian’s fleeing spirit when my sister’s life was measured by the tick of the clock.

“Then Gwen’s sister dies,” Ian said to Dorian. “Would you really cause her such pain simply because you refuse to give me what I want?” Shifting his gaze to me, he said, “My escape was temporary.”

I looked to Dorian. He glared at Ian, and Ian smiled at both of us. I knew whatever he had planned couldn’t be good; it never was where he was concerned. But our hands were tied, and he knew it. If Dorian refused to lift the ban so that Ian could escape the realm of the dead, then Rebekah died. And if he gave Ian what he wanted, then there was bound to be a whirlwind of chaos to follow. My memories flashed back to that night I’d driven the stake through his heart. He smirked at me—not the natural expression of a dying man. I had celebrated a fake victory.

I snorted. “You had this entire thing planned from day one, didn’t you?” Say what you will about Ian Despereaux, but the man was an evil genius. He had survived eight hundred plus years, until, that is, he met me.

His only response to my question was a smug smile. “Time is ticking away,” he said to Dorian. “Tick, tick, tick…Little Rebekah’s life is slipping.”

“How do we even know you have her?” I questioned. “This whole thing could be a trick.”

“You don’t have the luxury of chancing it. You would never forgive yourself if you had the opportunity to save her and didn’t.”

Dorian leaned over and whispered, “I can wade through truth and bullshit from spirits, Gwen. He’s telling the truth.”

I nodded, biting my lower lip to keep from crying. I’d clung to hope that the entire thing was one big ruse, but somewhere out there Rebekah’s life was in danger. And the only person capable of leading me to her was the one man I absolutely hated.

“Then we have to do it,” I told Dorian. “We’ve already been here way longer than we should.”

“We need to know where we’re going,” Dorian said to Ian.

The ghostly realm was a bizarre place. Within it lay what Dorian called ‘shimmers’. They were used as safe zones and transport areas. We could go in one to escape a demon, or pop through to another location using the existing energy fields in the natural dimension. And yes, it was as confusing as it sounds. Dorian hadn’t taken the time to teach me a lot about it.

“Moon.”

I knew I should have been surprised, but I wasn’t.

Without another word, Dorian held out a hand toward Ian. The dead vampire became a mist floating toward the angel of Death, the pieces separating to form one scattered mass of fog. As Ian’s spirit drifted closer, it was vacuumed into Dorian’s awaiting palm, just as he’d absorbed my soul. When the last wisp was soaked up, Dorian grabbed my hand and together we began hiking down the hill, on a race to beat the clock.

Once again I was looking up at the NAWC’s castle. It was nightfall, the stars already glittering against the obsidian sky. Neither Dorian nor I uttered a word as we began up the cobblestone road, but I knew we were both wondering if we had made it in time. The closer we drew to the castle’s front doors, the more I feared what I’d find behind them. My heart thudded in my chest as adrenaline raced through my veins.

Rebekah will be fine, I told myself. Everything is going to be okay. My pep talk did nothing to ease the knots in my stomach or the panic consuming me. Being in Moon could only mean one thing: the NAWC was just as dirty as Holly.

When we reached the large, arched doorway Dorian and I stopped and stared at each other. Though I couldn’t see his eyes, I knew they held the same emotion I was feeling—determination. This was it, the final countdown. The curtain was rising, and the show was about to begin. My only question was, would I be there at the end to take a bow?

The front doors opened of their own accord. Dorian tensed beside me, his arm stretching out in front of my chest for protection. Though tense, I had to smile at the gesture. My parents used to do the same thing when we were in the car and they had to slam on their breaks.

Music spilled from the entryway, the same beautiful instrumental that I had heard two times before. We walked inside with caution. The piano melody was already affecting my focus. My steps became slower as if I was pushing through quicksand instead of air. My eyelids fluttered and my shoulders drooped. But Rebekah was here somewhere, waiting for me and terrified. That thought helped me shake off the sleepiness.

The entryway was an enormous room. Its limestone walls stretched a good twenty feet high, while wrought-iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Hallways jutted in every direction, leading to various parts of the castle. Directly in front of the door was a wide staircase and toward the left was the ballroom. It was bland with its various shades of gray, reminding me of the realm of the dead. And just as desolate.

“Where is everyone?” I kept my voice low.

“They’re in the ballroom, and it’s not just the witches. There are vampires too,” Dorian said. “I can feel the malice of their souls.”

I reached my senses out, calling death to me. Sure enough, a frigid wave came the direction of the ballroom. I wasn’t as good as Dorian; I couldn’t tell you who was beyond the icy air, but I trusted his judgment.

“The NAWC is working with the VC?” I said more to myself than to Dorian. I really needed to stop being so surprised by the ruthlessness of these two governments.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look good.”