Kresley Cole - MacRieve

“As what?”

“The blood contained a mix of several creatures. My powers will be endless, once they’ve all manifested.”

She crossed to the courtyard’s low wall, sinking down on it. “Why didn’t you warn me about the Lore and what I might be? Why didn’t you tell me about the Order?”

“I thought I could keep you separate from all this. God, I wanted that! Your life was uncomplicated, so focused. I never wanted to take that away from you.”

“You could’ve told me what I was turning into before you left. You gave me zero explanation. Just left me an encyclopedia—of creatures you hated.”

“That night I was . . . dumbfounded.” He sat beside her. “Your blood had tested out as human, again and again for twenty-four years. Even our most advanced arrays picked up nothing.”

“I was so alone, and you just disappeared for weeks,” she said, hating how weak she sounded.

“I forced myself not to contact you, fearing that would put you in Lothaire’s crosshairs—a place you never want to be. Only after I’d turned did I come home for you, but you disappeared that night.”

“Yeah, the witches found me.”

Irritation flickered over his uncanny face. “I was betrayed by a former ally.”

“Wonder what that feels like.”

He reached for her, but she drew back.

“Chlo, please—”

“Did you do all the things I’ve heard? Torturing Loreans, killing them in front of their children?”

He let his hand drop. “I did what any general at war would do to his enemy. I did whatever it took.”

Admitting it so easily? Even . . . proudly? The fears about her dad that she’d barely allowed herself to entertain all came crashing down on her.

“I believed those creatures were subhuman, which meant they needed to be destroyed.”

Though she felt even more stunned, she forced herself to her feet. “And now what? You’ve switched teams? You’re a detrus now.”

“Precisely. We in the Order knew we would need stronger soldiers to defeat immortals. To fight the monsters, we would have to become them. So I headed a project designed to blend Lorean blood for human use. When my death was imminent, I decided to test it on myself.” He scrubbed a palm over one horn. “The transition has been . . . challenging.”

She could tell this. His fangs had cut his lips. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“With each day that I come into my powers, I’ve recognized that immortals will always prevail. You’ve felt the strength—you must understand that humans have no chance against us.”

“Who the hell is fighting against humans?”

“A war is inevitable, and I’ve been on the wrong side.”

She sensed a growing tension inside him, as if his veneer of calm was fracturing.

“After a lifetime of working to defend humanity, after all the sacrifices I made, I’ve finally comprehended that I was protecting the weak—when I should have been championing the strong!”

“Dad, no! Why does it have to be one or the other?”

He floated to his feet with an eerie fluidity. “It’s become so clear to me.” His abyss eyes gleamed with an unnerving light. “They have to be destroyed!”

“Listen to what you’re saying! Destroy mankind? Don’t be like this, just . . . don’t. ”

As if he hadn’t heard her, he said, “There are only two people in the world that I love, and now you are both immortal. This is all meant to be!”

She was almost too afraid to ask: “Who’s the other one?”

“Declan Chase, the Blademan. He’s a son to me. I found him when he was just a scared teenager, knew he had Lorean blood in him.” In a fond tone, he said, “I raised him to hate immortals, to battle them, but he saw the light before I did. Now he’s a champion of the Lore. I’ll take you to him. I want you to meet.”

“Why would I ever?”

“With you by my side, he might not kill me on sight.”

When she gazed blankly at him, Dad said, “Before my epiphany, I had his female . . . studied.” A bloody, sheepish grin. “He was violently displeased.”

“You think?” MacRieve too had been studied.

“But that was before I discovered the true path!” He was getting worked up again. He of the stiff upper lip was unraveling. “With your help, we can convince Declan to join us. To start a new Order! My daughter and my son will be my first generals.”

Who are you? “I don’t know what’s scarier—your insane plans or the fact that you think I’ll be on board with them.”

“I will convince you. I must.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth, smearing blood all over his chin. “The three of us will lead the charge—to purge the earth of the weak!”

Insane. As she stared at his semi-familiar face, she realized her dad had ceased to be the last night she’d seen him as a man, the night he’d given her the book.

It had been his deathbed gift.

This being was not her father, not Dustin Todd, the devoted dad who’d cheered her pattering around the yard with a miniature soccer ball. Her eyes watered. This was Commander Preston Webb.

My dad’s dead.

“With these new powers, I can usher in a new era,” he said with maniacal fervor. “I’ll have a Lykae’s senses, a vemon’s strength, and a fey’s speed. I’ll be able to harvest nourishment from lightning like a Valkyrie. I already have a vampire’s strengths. I can reap power—and a being’s memories—from blood, but have no aversion to the sun. I can trace over the entire world.”

“You must be very proud,” she bit out, wondering how to get away from him. But first, she had to know one thing. “Did you kill my mother?”

His expression didn’t change, even as he nodded. “I loved Fiore, more than anything. Yet she filled me with doubt, made me question my mission.” In an absent tone, he murmured, “Guarding the monstrous ones was relatively easy. It was far more difficult to guard the innocent-faced ones, the beautiful ones. They called to our sympathy.” He shook his head. “And then she tried to take you from me.”

“Probably because you would’ve killed me if I’d tested out as a Lorean!”

“No! I wasn’t ready to accept the Lore for her—but I was for you. Part of the reason that I chose to take that capsule was because I knew you were going to transition.”

That hyped-up blood. Even with MacRieve’s new strength, he might not be able to match Webb’s. Which meant she needed to get this being out of here before MacRieve returned. “You have to go. Do you understand whose home this is?”

“It belongs to the Lykae from my prison. I drank someone with that knowledge—not to the death, of course; we’re going to need all our numbers.” He grinned with ravaged lips. “How do you think I found you?”

We vowed no’ to tell you anything.”

“What the hell?” Will snapped, wishing he could throttle Rónan over the phone. “My brother’s missing ?”

The boy said, “Munro heard about these warlocks who were turning humans into Lykae and enslaving them.”

Will cursed. There was a reason Lykae never turned humans into their kind. Turned Lykae were violent, unthinking creatures. “The warlocks are called Those Best Forgotten, no?” He was familiar with that sect. Around each Accession, they created armies of Lykae on their home plane of Quondam.

“That’s them! Some real bad dudes. They sacrifice nymphs. Talk about a waste. I mean, what are they thinking—”

“Boy!”

“Right. Anyway, so Munro and Madadh and six others were going to raid the lair and free some new wolves. They had a nymph informant who knew of a limited-time weak spot in the Forgotten’s defenses. It was the night of the full moon, so it should’ve been a snap. Before he left, Munro told me and Ben that you already had more on your plate than you can handle. We were no’ to tell anyone of this—but especially no’ you—unless they didn’t return by today.”