Immortals After Dark 12 - Lothaire

strolled out onto the front porch, proffering a lock of black hair to the circling wraiths.
    The hair was their negotiated toll. Lothaire knew that when the Scourge collected enough to make a braid of a certain length, they could bend all Valkyries to their will for a time.
    The mighty Valkyries would be enslaved. He could hardly wait.
    Nïx sauntered toward him in the drizzle, her demeanor nonchalant. In the past, she’d told him he defied her foresight.
    Fitting, since she defied his insight.
    But now he was betting on her ability to all but read his mind—basically having the powers of a goddess.
    Yet she carried a fucking bat on her shoulder? Her pink T-shirt read: Why can’t we be friends?
    Subtle, Nïx. Real subtle.
    She stopped mere feet before him. They stood wordlessly, appraising each other.
    Her long sable hair was damp and wind-tossed, her wide-set golden eyes inscrutable. Her flowing skirt was tattered at the hem.
    Just weeks ago, he’d seen her on the prison island; since then, she appeared thinner, fatigued. She’d always been petite, but now she seemed smaller.
    Even so, she was blessed in form, as fine physically as she was damaged mentally.
    She tilted her head then, as if she could spy inside his own.
    He silently urged her to see—to know— what he needed so desperately. Help me from this bind. With difficulty, he bit out, “Nïx, I must have Elizabeth.” He could say no more, could explain nothing. Even that statement tested the boundaries of his vow; simply remaining in Nïx’s presence drained his strength.
    She smiled, her gaze vacant. “Black king seeks white queen’s aid, then?” Lightning flashed above, harshly illuminating her face. Her comely features sharpened, her visage foreboding as she whispered, “Lothaire, you’ve been mistaken about something. The abyss doesn’t stare back. It winks.”
    Then she turned on her heel and left him.
    Disbelief. She was past the wraiths before he found his voice. “You fucking bitch!” he bellowed, while thinking, I am lost. . . .
    That day as he slept, with Elizabeth clasped in his arms, Lothaire dreamed of the ring.

45
    C hase’s memories of the ring’s location had been chaotic and confused. Which meant Lothaire had been right at home with them, using them to trace directly to Webb’s hideout in the Canadian Rockies.
    Never would have guessed Canada.
    Earlier, when Lothaire had awakened, he’d acted as if nothing was amiss, dropping Elizabeth at Hag’s.
    Though once he’d started kissing Elizabeth good-bye, he’d found it hard to stop.
    Now he surveyed the front of a nondescript ranch—one surrounded by some of the most high-tech security on earth.
    And more, Chase had been familiar with every safeguard, which meant Lothaire was, too. He circumvented them all, easily breaching the structure’s defenses.
    Making himself incorporeal, Lothaire half-traced down dimly lit halls. Invisible to mortal eyes, he entered Webb’s private quarters. The man’s safe would be behind a wall within these chambers, the ring inside.
    He found Webb seated at his desk, in the middle of a phone call, his shoulder muscles bunched with tension. Lothaire could hear both sides of the conversation.
    Webb was speaking with the Blademan, Declan Chase.
    Interesting.
    “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you called,” Webb
said.
    “I’ve no wish to resume communication with you,” Chase said in his thick Irish accent. “But to repay you for saving my life, I’ve decided to give you a warning.”
    “About what?”
    “The Enemy of Old drank my blood on the island. He has my memories, which means he’ll eventually dream of your ranch’s location, your security, everything. He’ll be coming for you. And the ring.”
    Already here. Lothaire just stifled a laugh. Time is of the essence, Chase.
    “He won’t have the combination, and there are countermeasures in place,” the commander said. “But I’ll move out at once, hiding it from him this very night.” A weighty pause. “Unless you want to do it. Come back into the fold, Declan. We need your strength. There’s still work to be done to stop the tide of immortals from taking over the earth. From enslaving us.”
    As if we’d want you.
    “My connection to the Order is terminated,” Chase said. “Just keep the ring out of that vampire’s hands. Amazingly, I trust Lothaire with it even less than I do you.”
    Words hurt, Chase.
    “You’re truly going to ally with