Blood Seeker Page 4

  “Maybe you’re ready after all,” he said, his voice softer than usual, almost as though the words were meant for himself and not his audience. “That’s good, son. You’ll need that strength for what’s coming. Especially now that you’ve left my circle.”

  It took all matter of control not to ask him to elaborate. Sethios couldn’t afford to appear intrigued, even though the ominous threat about “what’s coming” had certainly piqued his interest.

  “If the High Council hasn’t called upon you yet, they soon will. They’re going to want to talk to your daughter. I suggest you don’t allow that to happen if you value her life.”

  “And let me guess your next suggestion,” Sethios drawled. “You want me to hand her over to you for safekeeping.”

  “It would be a wise move.”

  “Sure.” Sethios infused a healthy dose of sarcasm into that single word. “I’ll get right on that.”

  His father made a noise of annoyance. “I retract my comment regarding your preparedness.”

  “Astasiya is her own person,” Gabriel interjected before Sethios could lay another sarcastic comment at his father’s feet. “She would need a very good reason just to speak to you right now. The notion of going to you willingly?” Gabriel snorted. “That’s entirely impractical. It’ll never happen.”

  “Are you saying I need to win my granddaughter’s trust?”

  “I’m saying that from what I’ve observed of her power, she will not be easily compelled by her father, or you for that matter.” Gabriel twisted his wrist, his watch catching in the sun. A quick move, one that Sethios registered while the rest of him remained utterly composed, his legs stiff, thanks to Osiris’s compulsion. “The only way she’ll even consider such an absurd notion is if you give her a reason to. And so far, I haven’t seen any.”

  Sethios’s mouth threatened to curl down, the young Seraphim’s proclamation strange. Astasiya would never agree to go anywhere near Osiris, even with a decent “reason.”

  What are you doing, Gabriel? Sethios wondered, trying to follow the strategic path the male had set in motion. Because he was clearly after something. He’d also done something with his watch. Had Osiris noticed?

  “Perhaps I should take both of you prisoner,” Osiris proposed. “That ought to provide the motivation she requires for a visit.”

  Gabriel lifted a shoulder, unbothered by the looming danger. “You could, but that will only infuriate her more.”

  “I can work with fury.”

  “Can you?” Gabriel countered. “Your granddaughter was raised by humans, Osiris. She thinks with her heart, not with the logic of her birthright. Hurting her will only drive her further away from you.”

  “You should probably listen to him, Father. He’s currently on the receiving end of her wrath. She broke his nose just this morning. Which was what? The third time this week?” Sethios pretended to consider. “Or was it the fourth time?”

  “Second,” he corrected, his tone emotionless despite Sethios’s attempt to ruffle his feathers. He also never once looked his way, his focus entirely on Osiris.

  “You’re right,” Sethios conceded, matching his flat tone while internally grinning. “The first one just gave you a black eye.”

  Gabriel ignored him. “The point remains, Stas won’t go to you willingly, Osiris. Not even if you kidnap everyone she loves. She’ll just fight you, and while you may be able to best her, she won’t stop until she’s utterly broken. If that’s your goal, then so be it. But I think we both know that a broken weapon isn’t in your best interest.”

  Ah, so that’s the angle you’re playing at, Sethios realized. He was indeed suggesting Osiris try to win over Astasiya’s trust, something that would be impossible to do. However, his father would be just arrogant enough to try. Because Gabriel was right—Osiris needed Astasiya intact and functional for his plans.

  He wanted to go to war with the Seraphim. Sethios had known that was his goal for centuries. And they’d finally reached the point in their existence where the chess master could place the influential queen on the board.

  “You’ve not done yourself any favors,” Sethios added, playing off Gabriel’s commentary. “And Gabriel’s observations are correct. I’m not strong enough to compel her, so even if you provided me with the motivation to try, it wouldn’t do much.”

  Sethios ensured his voice and expression gave nothing away. He infused each word with certainty, sounding apathetic by even the prospect of being forced to persuade his own daughter.

  Oh, it might work.

  But his father didn’t need to know that. And the gleam in his green irises—the same shade as Astasiya’s and Sethios’s eyes—said he was taking their statements seriously.

  Good.

  That meant they might just make it out of this alive. Not that Osiris could kill either of them. Sethios also suspected Gabriel had set off some sort of alert with that watch on his wrist. His father hadn’t seemed to notice. Or perhaps, more accurately, he’d actually allowed it, simply because he wanted his granddaughter to arrive.

  Hmm. Too bad, old man. The call had likely gone to Vera and Leela, who weren’t with Astasiya at the moment but with the Hydraians.

  “All right,” Osiris said, sending a wave of shock through Sethios’s system.

  Those were two words he never expected to hear from his father’s mouth, and they immediately put him on full alert.

  He waited for the Seraphim of Resurrection to say more, but he didn’t. He merely clasped his hands before him, his expression giving nothing away.

  What are you playing at? Sethios wanted to ask him, his defensive instincts firing as power rippled over his skin. It caused every hair on his arms to rise. He recognized the compulsion yet couldn’t determine the purpose.

  A ringing sound broke the suffocating silence.

  None of them moved.

  It continued until Osiris sighed, “Answer it.” Persuasion underlined that statement, forcing Gabriel into action.

  He pulled the mobile from his pocket and pressed it to his ear. “Yes?” His eyes widened a fraction at whatever was said, his light eyes landing on Sethios. A hint of alarm met his features, confirming an unexpected change. One that couldn’t be good.

  “What have you done?” Sethios demanded, the invisible strands of power seeming to slink backward into Osiris. Each cord brushed Sethios’s body on another plane of existence, reminding him of just who had provided him life.

  Your power is my power, it whispered across his senses. I own you.

  “I’ve offered my version of a gift,” Osiris explained, the electricity fizzling out around them as he absorbed it all into his system. “It also happens to serve as a practical course, considering you need the guidance more than I do right now.”

  A practical course? Sethios repeated to himself, the air cooling around him. He slowly began to relax, the electricity humming over his skin subsiding.

  His father gently rolled his neck, a slight shudder passing over him from harnessing all that energy.

  Gabriel still hadn’t spoken a word, but surprise radiated off of him.

  “I had hoped we would have more time, but I can feel the tide shifting.” Osiris looked up at the sky, releasing a sigh. “That’s the problem with being as old as I am. I miscalculate in terms of centuries, not minutes. Alas, here we are. I’ve provided all the tools. It’s up to you to use them.”

  Sethios nearly snorted. The only “tools” his father had provided were via lessons on physical and mental torment.

  “You released Skye of your compulsion,” Gabriel said, causing Sethios’s eyebrows to hit his hairline. “While a worthwhile gift, I believe Astasiya would look more favorably on having her mother back.”

  Holy shit, Sethios thought, stunned by Gabriel’s announcement. Gabriel’s suggestion actually worked.

  The prophecies surrounding Astasiya all depicted her as powerful and a force that would destroy all in her path. Sethios wasn’t naive; he knew why his
father wanted her. But he had no idea that Osiris would go to such lengths to secure her allegiance.

  Clearly, Gabriel had guessed just how far his father would go to ally with her. And he’d used that notion brilliantly to his advantage.

  Sethios’s respect for the man intensified greatly in that moment.

  Osiris slowly lowered his face to meet the young Seraphim’s gaze. “That’s not within my control.”

  “You could tell us where you left her,” Gabriel suggested.

  “I could.” He looked out at the ocean. “But it won’t help you.” He canted his head. “She’s no longer there.”

  Gabriel and Sethios shared a glance, both of them trying to decipher the evil man’s words.

  “My offer for Astasiya’s protection remains,” his father said softly. “She’s going to need it.” His feathers appeared around him half a beat later. “I’ll be awaiting your call.”

  Osiris vanished.

  Sethios said nothing for a long moment, his gaze on Gabriel. The Seraphim studied him right back. “Caro’s not underwater.”

  “What?” How had he gleaned that information?

  “Osiris said the vision was an eighteen-year-old memory. Then he commented on her mental state, which I thought was a reflection of her dying over and over again. However, he just said she’s no longer here. He also implied that he doesn’t know where she is, which means someone found her before we could.”

  Sethios considered the evidence, recalling every word his father had said. Osiris thrived on strategy, his decisions and words always uttered with his own best interest in mind.

  It was possible that he’d meant to send them on a fool’s errand while he crafted a trap to take them all. Yet he hadn’t provided enough information to truly give them anything.

  “Who else would have been looking for her?” Sethios wondered out loud, thinking through Gabriel’s comment suggesting someone had already saved her from the ocean floor.

  “That’s not what worries me,” the Seraphim replied. “It’s who had the ability to find her that is a greater concern.”

  Sethios stared at him as a conversation from the past filtered through his mind. One that had occurred shortly after Astasiya’s birth. Caro’s bloodline made her untraceable. He frowned. “She said you could track her.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “I should be able to. Yet, I’ve not been able to feel her since shortly after Osiris disposed of her in the ocean. I thought it was because she’s underground. Now I’m wondering if something else has been interfering with my ability to track her this entire time.”

  “Are you suggesting that she hasn’t been drowning these last eighteen years? That she’s been somewhere else entirely?” Even as the questions left his lips, the possibility of them being correct filtered through his thoughts. “Is that why I can’t feel her?”

  Osiris’s compulsion not to move his legs was all that kept Sethios standing.

  Fuck. Me.

  “But you and Astasiya dream of her,” he said, speaking his thoughts out loud. “She’s sending you visions.”

  “Is she?” Gabriel asked, his expression showing the first signs of emotion. “Or is it a loop meant to distract us?”

  “A loop?”

  “A memory feed,” he elaborated. “We need to evaluate the visions. We need to evaluate everything.” He looked at his watch, then back at Sethios. “There’s only one other being who has the ability to find my mother.”

  “Caro’s mother,” Sethios said, recalling the other individual from that discussion twenty-five years ago. “But I thought Leela was monitoring the council.” That’d been her job and the reason she’d refused to pledge fealty to Astasiya. “She was supposed to tell us if they decided to wake Caro’s mother from her angelic coma.”

  “Correct, she’s our eyes and ears inside,” Gabriel said softly, frowning down at his watch again. “Just as she’s supposed to be monitoring my alerts.”

  Sethios’s legs twitched, the persuasion holding him in place snapping with a jolt of residual energy. His father had completely released him and Gabriel, allowing them to move their legs again.

  Gabriel misted as though to test his wings, then he reappeared in his corporeal state. “We should check on Skye. Then we need to have a discussion with Leela. And after that, we’ll evaluate all the dreams. Because if Osiris is right about today’s vision being a memory, then I suspect the others are as well.”

  Sethios swallowed, his heart in his throat.

  All week, he’d sensed that something was seriously wrong. He should be able to at least feel Caro, yet the only tangible thread between them was the barbed wire shredding holes in his heart.

  He’d worried it was because she’d blocked him out because of the pain.

  But what if that wasn’t it at all? What if someone, or something, had severed their bond?

  Oh, angel… His heart broke all over again. Where the fuck are you?

  Caro felt nothing. Not the cold metal chair beneath her. Not the stale air of the room. Not the heat of the sun warming the window.

  She merely existed in a fog.

  Forgotten.

  No, that wasn’t right. She hadn’t been forgotten at all. But she needed her mind to remain clear. Open. Vacant. It was the only way to operate here.

  They were all inside her, their powers rehabilitating her Seraphim soul, trying to re-create the being she should be. She allowed it. Accepted it. Encouraged it.

  Because deep within, she’d found a small fracture in the programming, and she didn’t want them to locate her current whereabouts.

  Deep within her psyche.

  Exploring.

  Tugging.

  Gently prodding the memory loop that’d been inserted into the link. It took all of her mental strength not to flinch at her own agony, the visual one that left her breathless and terrified.

  Seraphim do not feel.

  Seraphim do not love.

  Seraphim do not react.

  She whispered the words through her mind, feigning a pretense of giving in to the reprogramming of her soul while reminding herself of the battle existing within her.

  So much power. So much authority. So much weight.

  Caro strove for focus, finding the thread she desired, the one that would connect her to the forbidden place.

  Quiet.

  Slow.

  Easy.

  She couldn’t afford to give anything away, and there were so many of them around her, all reprimanding in nature. They wanted her to conform. To change. To be the Seraphim of her past.

  Caro was no one.

  She ceased to be.

  A vessel of magic. A being to be owned.

  Those thoughts rolled through the front of her mind, an intoxicating presence of reformation. She didn’t fight. Not obviously, anyway. Instead, she quietly retreated to that place she craved, the one she shouldn’t touch. Every time she altered a contrived memory, the message changed. She couldn’t risk it being too much, or one of them would notice. But the feed was on a loop.

  Caro drowning.

  Caro crying.

  Caro screaming in agony.

  It all felt centuries old to her. She couldn’t even feel the water now or remember how it’d suffocated her. Yet the pain remained as a visceral scar against her heart.

  She crept forward, wishing to leave another footprint, hoping to be able to alter a sentence or a phrase.

  How many times had she died and regenerated?

  The loop only showed a handful of memories, causing her to wonder how long she’d actually been at the bottom of the ocean. Minutes? Hours? Days? Months?

  Did it truly matter?

  No. Not really. She had a mission in mind, a memory to tweak, a way to—

  A spike of presence had Caro blanking her mind once more.

  One of them was checking on her increased mental activity.

  Seraphim do not feel.

  Seraphim do not love.

  Seraphim do not rea
ct.

  She took a shallow breath, falling back into line, far away from that precious place. There would be no altering today. Not with him in her mind, poking around to search for any faults in her rehabilitation.

  Silence overcame her.

  Calmness.

  Nothingness.

  Caro no longer existed.

  No bonds.

  No family.

  No love.

  Just a Seraphim soul, floating… floating away.

  Time no longer held meaning.

  Caro was reborn. Died. Reborn again.

  Drowning without water.

  Flushed from her body and reattached once more.

  Did it hurt? Maybe. She couldn’t sense anything, her mind existing in a stratosphere removed from her spirit.

  Not true. They were connected in a way. Blinking. Swaying. Dying again.

  A strand of light caught her focus, so subtle and slight, a sliver of insanity brightening her shadows. She carefully, quietly, clandestinely swam toward it, seeking the outlet her soul desired.

  No one was watching today. Not closely, anyway. Her restoration was almost complete. Soon she would wake with a renewed purpose. She felt nothing in regard to that development, just acceptance.

  They would provide her with a task.

  She would fulfill it.

  To disobey was impractical.

  Just like following this tarnished, barbed thread. Visions of the past swirled around her. She hid her intentions, choosing to watch them through a passive mind’s eye.

  No one stopped her.

  Not even a prick in her conscious.

  She was fully reformed now and no longer a concern.

  Which allowed her to play, to subtly alter the message once more. They’d established this memory loop to play over the strands, to pass on to those she couldn’t name—not without risking discovery.

  Subtly, subtly, subtly, she touched and stroked, adding her own words, blinks, and sounds.

  She remained alone, unbothered, her mind still deep beneath the spells of Seraphim power, but not openly monitored.

  Caro added another blur. Tweaked another detail. Removed the water from one loop. Waited.