The Dove Page 2

  “She certainly is ghastly.” Nicole agreed. She knew very well that Jozsef Daniel was not her cousin, Jozsef Daniel. She gazed out the window as she brushed her long curls into a ponytail on top of her head. She knew very well that it was she, and not Lemarik, who was suffering from classic denial. A fool, indeed. She pressed the brush against her forehead as she felt the makings of a headache gathering behind her eyes.

  “You know nothing.” Lemarik said quietly and folded onto the floor in front of her, before placing his hands on her knees. “Can you not trust me, Nicole? We must put our differences aside. You must take up your cross as the mystic healer, Simon of Grenoble, would say. You are your father’s daughter. It is time you act the part.”

  “Then why don’t you enlighten me as to what my part is, brother.” She tossed the brush on the bed and crossed the room to the bar and poured herself a glass of brandy and found a cigarette under the bar. She came back to the bed and sat down facing him and blew out a long trail of smoke. “Convince me of what I should do. Why should I trust you? You allowed me to grow old in the underworld! You would have allowed me to fade away! Why?”

  “Simply because you were with my beautiful son, Omar.” He said sadly. “I wanted only the best for him. I was selfish. For that, I am sorry, but you would not listen. You should never have been with him in the first place. You are his aunt! Did you never have the slightest bit of morality? Of decency? You seduced your brother, Luke Andrew, your uncle Luke Matthew and you tried to seduce John Paul as well. Do you know who John Paul Sinclair-Ramsay is, Nicole? Your mother tried to raise you as a decent, moral human even though you were never human to begin with. I suppose your nature is stronger than even Meredith knew. Have you never wondered why your father always seemed a bit afraid of you? Come with me, Nicole, before it is too late. I can take you home at least. Luke Andrew would welcome you, I’m sure.”

  Nicole’s face had grown very dark. She did not like to be reminded of her past. She cared very little for the concept of sin and had no use for God. As far as she was concerned, the Supreme Deity had played a very dirty trick on both her and her brother. They had been outcasts! Freaks! They’d had no one but themselves.

  “Who is John Paul? Tell me who he is, brother.” She narrowed her blue eyes sharply, looking very much like her father.

  “I could not tell you in a thousand years.” Lemarik said quietly and then frowned. “Do you know of the magick your father uses to transfer the mysteries of the Templars?”

  “I know about their infernal rites and Holy Mysteries!” She said derisively as she sipped her drink. “What of it?”

  “I can enlighten you.” Lemarik stood up slowly. “It is time you learned who you are, Nicole Ramsay.” He stepped closer to her. “You are your father’s daughter. It is time you repaid some of the debt you owe him.”

  “I owe him nothing!” Nicole looked up at him as fear registered on her face. “I have been looking after him here. I have no intention of allowing them to hurt him, if I can help it!”

  “You are helping the prisoner upstairs for your own selfish reasons. You are frightened here. You fear for your life! You want to leave here, but you have no place to run.” Lemarik took a step toward her. “I had hoped that you might have learned something by now, but I see that you are still as selfish as ever.”

  “Stay away from me!” Nicole tried to get away from him.

  Lemarik grabbed one foot and dragged her kicking and fighting to the floor. He pressed her against the floor easily with one knee on her back. She turned her face back and forth, cursing and struggling.

  “Now learn something, my sister.” Lemarik bent over her and pressed one hand against the back of her head. She shrieked, stiffened and then relaxed. A few moments later, Lemarik stood up and looked about the room. Something had distracted him, but he had given her what he wanted her to know. She would sleep for while, and then he would speak to her again. He pulled his robe about him and spun around in a purple blur.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Luke Andrew slapped the reins against the neck of the black horse and the sleek animal picked up its pace a bit. He had been riding south of the estate on a wild goose chase, looking for Lucio Dambretti when the sun had gone down. Now the moon was rising over the trees, a huge yellow disc. Selwig’s smaller pony trotted along beside the bigger animal. The healer had refused to tell where Lucio might have gone, in spite of the Master’s threats. Luke had felt extremely sorry for the distraught little healer and had brought him along to get him away from the Master’s wrath. The Tuathan clutched his yellow bag in front of him with one hand. His eyes were wide and his face was sad.

  He was afraid for his friend, Vanni, and Luke thought he knew why. Lavon had admitted that Lucio had been asking him questions about Lucia and Sophia. Catharine had submitted to the Master’s questions, but had provided nothing as to her husband’s whereabouts. Luke slumped in the saddle and slowed the horse in order to allow the pony a respite. They had been riding aimlessly for hours about the country and the healer had not said more than a dozen words. Very unusual for the talkative little faery.

  “I know you know where they went, Selwig.” Luke Andrew commented as they rode along. “It is quite obvious he went looking for my father in the underworld. He thinks that Sophia is his daughter, Lucia.”

  “She is not Lucia.” Selwig told him matter-of-factly.

  “That is beside the point.” Luke glanced at him. “I tried to get permission to go there myself. I wanted to make sure whoever took my father did not take him to the underworld.”

  “I don’t think he is in the underworld. I think he is in the Abyss.” Selwig nodded.

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I don’t know. I just think that.”

  “Do you know who Sophia is?”

  “I know what Vanni thinks.”

  “What does Vanni think?”

  “He says that Sophia is like your father.”

  “In what way?”

  “He could not explain it.”

  “Did he tell his father about it?”

  “No. That would not have been wise.”

  “Why?”

  “I cannot say.”

  “If you…” Luke began and then stopped as he saw someone walking toward them across the moonlit meadow.

  “Ohhhh.” Selwig reined his pony to a halt and sat staring at the silvery form.

  “Who is that?” Luke whispered. “Is it Sophia?”

  “Noooo. I don’t think so.” Selwig matched his whisper.

  “Stay put.” Luke told him. “I’ll see who comes.”

  He kicked the horse and rode toward the figure that seemed to be dressed in a white gown. A woman. That much was plain. As he drew nearer, his heart leapt into his throat as he thought it was his mother, Meredith. As he drew closer, he realized with a start, it was his sister Nicole.

  “Nicole?!” He shouted to her and she stopped. He halted the horse beside her and she looked up at him from haunted eyes.

  “Brother?” She blinked at him. “Where are we?”

  “Lothian!” He slid from the horse and held the reins in his hand. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you.” She told him and her voice seemed far away, unreal.

  “Are you a dream? A ghost?” He asked her and took a step back.

  “I have come to ask your forgiveness.” She fell on her knees in front of him. “Shrive me, brother!”

  “Shrive you?” He took another step back. She was not real. This was some sort of trick. “You are not a Templar!”

  “I am your sister. My father is your father. I have wronged you, and I would ask your forgiveness.”

  Luke stared at the top of her head as she bowed her face to the ground. Was she real? He reached out hesitantly and touched the top of her head. She felt real. In fact, he could feel her moving as she sobbed silently.

  “Wait!” He jerked his hand back. “What sort of trick is this, Nicole
? Why are you doing this? Are you dead?”

  She raised her tear-stained face toward him and frowned in confusion. “I might be dead. I don’t know.”

  “You can’t be dead!” He contradicted himself.

  “I love you, Luke. I have always loved you.” She told him. “You were all I ever had and I drove you away. Can you forgive me?”

  “My father… our father says that to forgive is divine.” Luke said. “Do you think I am divine, Nicole?”

  “I have no idea.” She shook her head. “I only know that I have been lost and if you wish to kill me here and now, I am ready to die.”

  “Wait!” He said again and took her by the shoulders, pulling her to her feet. “I can’t kill you. I mean, I don’t want to kill you even if I could kill you, and I wouldn’t if I knew how, and I don’t so I won’t, and you don’t…”

  “Shhh.” She frowned at him, wiped at her eyes and put one finger against his lips. “I want you to see something.”

  Luke let go of her. Now would come the catch.

  “Nicole!” He stepped back quickly.

  “No, really!” She smiled. “I need to show you something. I think I understand why I always felt the need to be close to you.”

  “Nicole!” He repeated her name, but with less enthusiasm. There was something about her expression and the tone of her voice that made him stop.

  “Lemarik came to see me, Brother.” She told him. “He showed me the truth. Of how we were joined at birth.”

  Luke pressed his hands over his ears. He did not want to hear this. He knew about it. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew.

  “And how we were separated.” She continued as she took hold of his arms, pulling his hands away from his head. “It is the same with all the Watchers, Luke. We have all been torn asunder. We were never meant for this world or this life. We were an accident, but we belong together. Not as lovers, not as brother and sister, but as two halves of a whole. Unity is the Word, Luke. Unity! That is what we are searching for. We have been running about lost and the answer was right in front of us the entire time.”

  “Nicole…” Luke shook his head and the silver earrings jingled in his hair.

  “My mother placed these in my father’s hair.” She caught the braid in her hand and looked at the silver in the moonlight. “Our mother has found the answer, Luke. She is where she belongs with John Paul. That is why I tried to take him for myself. That is why I tried to take Uncle Luke. Because something was missing.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’re scaring the hell out of me!” He took hold of her hand. “How did you get here? Did you see our father? Do you know where he is? Did you see Lucio?”

  “Look at me, brother!” She grasped his face in her hands and he locked eyes with her. A few moments later, the apprentice collapsed into the grass and the apparition of his sister evaporated in the ground fog.

  Selwig, who had been watching this cautiously from his perch on the pony, approached Luke slowly, dropped from his saddle to the ground and pulled Luke into his lap after Nicole disappeared.

  “Master Luke!” The healer rummaged in his bag with one hand and pulled out a small bottle of oil. “Master Luke! Wake up! Please wake up.” He held the opened bottle under Luke’s nose.

  Luke snorted and coughed and opened his eyes.

  “Master!” Selwig brushed his hair from his face. “Are you all right? Did she hurt you?”

  “No!” Luke pushed himself up and looked about the deserted meadow. The horse and the pony stood a few yards away, champing on their bits. “Where is she?”

  “She’s gone, Master!” Selwig told him. “She simply faded away after you fell.”

  Luke got up and brushed off his pants.

  “What happened? Who was it?” Selwig stood beside him and stuffed the bottle back in his bag.

  “My sister, Nicole!” Luke smiled at him. “She brought some very interesting news.”

  “Does she know where Vanni is?” Selwig asked him hopefully.

  “No, but she knows where Sir Ramsay is!” Luke whistled for the horse. “We have to tell the Master!”

  “But what happened?” Selwig asked him as they mounted their rides again.

  “I found out who Sophia is!” Luke smiled down at him.

  “Ohhhh.” Selwig fell silent as they started back toward the house.

  Chapter Two of Sixteen

  And when he had opened the fourth seal And I looked, and behold a pale horse

  Bari Caleb ‘Joel’ Kadif did not feel like an Emperor. He felt like a murderer. He’d never felt so low in all his life. He sat on the tiled floor of the laboratory, staring at the door of the oven. The automatic timer on the furnace had turned it off almost and hour before, and still, he sat, unable to drag himself up. It was incredible to think that he had burned the body of the child… the dead child…thinking that it would help to bring his mind back from the depths of depression. To get rid of the drag on his psyche and the emotional turmoil he faced every time he ventured into the lab. He had hoped to free himself of this part of his life and move on in a new and better direction. Now he felt as if he had committed the ultimate crime: the murder of his own son. He could not shake the feeling of guilt that gripped his heart and yet he knew it was not true, it was imagination. The child had been dead a long, long time.

  He mourned the loss of his father, Omar, and his mother. For the first time, he realized how much they had loved him and how it must have hurt them when he had rejected that love without even giving them a chance. His empire had fallen into the hands of a man he had trusted completely and he had allowed the creature to bring one of his infernal companions to life in the guise of his own mother. It was unthinkable! Unbelievable! Unforgivable! Further, he had foolishly gone to her bed and compounded his crimes with great abominations! If his father did suddenly appear to him there and then, he would not have resisted if Omar had ripped him to shreds. If he had more courage, he would have cut his own heart out… if he could find it.

  Bari dragged himself wearily from the floor, thinking of what he had to do next. Colonel McGuffy had successfully replaced the palace guard assigned to watch over his grandfather with his own men. The Colonel was just waiting for him to give the word. Give the word! The word! In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was within God, and the Word was God. One of the few scriptures that he had learned from Joey came to his mind as he approached the oven. He would have to make sure that nothing remained of the child. Nothing that would betray what he had done here today. He unfastened the bars on the heavy door and swung it outward. The hinges grated and a strange smell filled the air. The residual heat struck him in the face and took his breath away. Very fine particles of ash drifted out of the interior and he fanned the air with one hand. It was horrible. These ashes had once been a living creature. It was sacrilege to breathe them in. He held his breath.

  He waited for the ashes to float away and then took a deep breath before looking inside the furnace. At first, he did not realize what he was looking at. The oven was a state-of-the-art, self-cleaning device that was usually used to bake the various concoctions and alchemical experiments made by the people who lived, or had once lived in the palace, who dabbled in such things. Omar had delved into the art from time to time, Jozsef Daniel had come here before he had been taken by the Ancient Evil, Lemarik had borrowed it once or twice and he, himself, had played about a bit in the lab when he’d first come here as Emperor. For the most part, the servants had used it to dispose of the trash after the war had changed everything and shut down the city services for a while. When set on high, there was practically nothing that could not be incinerated to oblivion by the intense heat. A vent system attached to a chimney on the roof dispersed what little particulate matter that escaped the heat into the air in an almost invisible trail of thin, blue smoke. The thing was so very efficient that it did not even have a clean-out chute or access for cleaning.

  Bari squinted into the w
avy, hot air within the furnace and blinked slowly. A small rounded object about the size of small cantaloupe lay on the stone floor of the oven. It was glowing with an orange light. It took several seconds for him to realize this object was exactly where he had carelessly thrown the baby into the oven. He drew in a sharp breath and then stumbled across the lab to the wall where various metal tools and utensils hung on pegs and hooks.

  The Emperor grabbed a pair of long-handled tongs from the wall and rushed back to the oven. He almost forgot how hot the interior walls would still be and tried to lean into the door to retrieve the object, scorching his tunic in the process. The oven was beginning to cool and the orange glow was fading rapidly as the heat dispersed into the room, causing him to break out in a sweat. He carefully dragged the object toward the door and then had to make three attempts at grasping the smooth surface in the tongs.

  When he finally drew it from the oven, he fell back, almost dropped it and then managed to deposit it on one of the stainless steel tables. The metal popped and cracked instantly from the heat.

  Bari slung the hot tongs away from him as the heat began to be felt in his hands. He closed the oven door and then hurried back to the table. The glow had died to an amber spot the size of a marble in the center of the yellowish crystal. He knew what it was. He walked around the table, mesmerized by the sight of the deep eye sockets and tiny teeth now visible on the baby’s skull.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Luke Andrew had the Master’s attention now. The big man stared at him from baleful blue eyes and Luke swallowed hard. How could he tell this man what he knew? He had rushed into the house, shouting for the Master and now he could not think what to say. Barry of Sussex sat beside him, tapping his fingers on the table. They were in the kitchen of his father’s house and Luke felt like a stranger in his own home, house in which he had lived the greater part of his life. His life. His Scotland. All lost, it seemed.