A Gift of Three Read online

  I could hear footsteps coming from the opposite end of the corridor. As I couldn’t see anything, I assumed it was coming from one of the rooms. I used True Sight, searching the rooms on my left. The first two were empty of occupants, but in the last, I saw a familiar figure and almost wept with relief.

  Serena

  [Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]

  Hurrying along the corridor, I opened the door, causing Jovi to spin around in surprise, wielding a glass vase as a weapon.

  “It’s me!” I hissed. “It’s okay.”

  Jovi lowered the vase with a huge sigh of relief.

  “What is this place?” he asked me. “Are you okay? I was trying to help Aida, then was practically blinded by the light—”

  “Same here,” I replied. “When I opened my eyes again, I was here. And I can’t tell for the life of me where ‘here’ is.”

  His room was the same as mine had been, though slightly larger, with a fireplace at either end. It also had velvet curtains hanging from each of its windows, half-eaten by moths and decay.

  “Wherever we are, I want to get out.” Jovi made a move toward the door I’d just arrived from, and together we stepped back into the hallway.

  “Do you think the others are here?” I asked hopefully. If Jovi and I had both arrived in the same place, then there was a chance the others had too.

  “Did you look in other rooms?” he asked.

  “They’re empty,” I confirmed, “there’s no one else on this floor. We should try downstairs. I passed a staircase. This way.” I led him on, back down the gloomy corridor.

  “Look up,” he whispered, coming to a standstill a few feet from the banister. I did as he asked, and quickly wished I hadn’t. The ceiling was covered with murals: oil-painted depictions of black-eyed demons locked in battle with serpents and humans. Winged creatures, scaled and furious, lashed at one another, while glad-masked figures stood by and watched, as if they were at a play. It was creepy.

  “Come on,” I said, tugging at his shirt sleeve. I wanted to get out of here—back into the light, at least. The gloom and the watching eyes of the stuffed creatures were making me edgy.

  The staircase was wide, thickly carpeted like the hallway was. Some of the steps were broken in, the polished wood of the banisters also destroyed in some places, the railings draped in thick and musty cobwebs.

  “Mind your step,” Jovi muttered as we slowly descended, anxious that every creak might give us away to whoever or whatever owned this place. The staircase led down to what I assumed was the main entrance. It was a vast and empty hall, whose floor was made of cracked, polished marble slates. Large paintings hung from the walls, covered in a thick layer of dust and depicting pastoral scenes—a nice change from what we’d seen on the ceiling upstairs.

  Jovi hurried to the front door. It was huge, with two marble columns on either side, and rusted brass knobs on both doors. Jovi wiggled the handles, and I joined him, looking closely at the locks.

  “Locked shut,” I asserted, rattling the frame. In our desire to get out, I’d stopped worrying about the noise we were making. “We should just break the glass of one of the windows, it will be easier.”

  “Agreed,” Jovi replied. “Let’s see if we can find any sign of the others first. Which way should we go?”

  I turned and faced the interior of the house. The layout was vast. There were so many rooms, most cast in darkness where the curtains were pulled tightly shut. I could see one fire blazing in one of the rooms in the west ‘wing’ of the home, but it looked as empty as the rest. I could also see a glass greenhouse that backed onto the lawn—full of tropical hot plants, and as overgrown as the rest of the land.

  I told Jovi what I saw, both of us worried that the rest of our friends and family were nowhere to be found.

  “Let’s make our way to the room with the fire,” he suggested. “If we can’t see anyone, we can get out through the greenhouse.”

  I led the way, glancing into the different rooms that we passed—some vast, with the furniture covered in more mildewed sheets, and some smaller, containing nothing more than chests of more junk, books and unfamiliar objects that looked like they belonged at an antique fair.

  “Do you think this is some sort of trick? Maybe one of the fae playing with us or something?” I asked hesitantly.

  “It’d be a pretty cruel trick,” Jovi replied. “And I don’t know…it would take a lot of power—a jinni would have to be involved… and all this for amusement? It doesn’t sound likely.”

  I had to agree. And there was nothing about this that felt remotely amusing. The more we explored of the isolated home, the more disheartened I felt—and frightened. With all the panic of seeing my friends in that state, and the dancing and fun beforehand, and now the use of True Sight to keep watch on the house as we walked through it, my energy was fast depleting. If I didn’t find energy to eat soon—and I didn’t believe that there would be anything in this place—I would have to ask Jovi if I could syphon off him. Something I absolutely didn’t want to do in this situation.

  As we approached our destination, I could hear the faint sounds of a fire crackling in the hearth. I was already perspiring heavily—the house, even when cast in gloom, was humid and dank. Why anyone would want to light a fire in this heat was beyond me.

  The door to the room was shut. I glanced over at Jovi, and he motioned for me to stand back. With my energy draining and the room in darkness, I couldn’t see that well, but I could make out a high-backed chair, placed in front of the fire.

  “Jovi,” I whispered quietly before he opened the door, “there might be someone in there. I think I can see—”

  Jovi didn’t wait for me to finish. On hearing that there might be a sign of life, Jovi pushed the door open with a bang. He marched into the room, and I followed him—my gait was much less confident, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t ready for battle.

  Jovi came to a halt halfway between the door and the chair. There was definitely someone sitting in it, but they made no motion to rise at our approach. The only light came from the fire, and as a log fell on the hearth, I could make out a human hand on the armrest, unmoving.

  Then a voice echoed across the room:

  “So, you’ve found me.”

  Serena

  [Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]

  Neither of us moved.

  Jovi glanced over at me, his wide-eyed gaze meeting mine.

  “Who are you?” Jovi asked, in a voice stronger and more forceful than anything I could muster. The occupant of the chair didn’t move. By the sound of his voice, he was definitely male—but beyond that, even using my failing True Sight, I couldn’t get much of a picture.

  He didn’t reply to Jovi’s question. The werewolf lost his temper, anger clearly overcoming whatever fear he might have entertained, and continued to march over to the chair. I followed him, our hands becoming tightly clasped as we reached the fire in a few short strides, turning toward the faceless voice.

  My body was tensed for attack, but as I laid eyes on the figure, the fight drained out of me. My first reaction was one of an uneasy awe. The figure in the chair was a man—and an undeniably handsome one. His face was harsh, but young; he couldn’t have been much older than his early twenties. His eyes, narrowed in a frown, were a steely gray, boring into us with mistrust. Overgrown stubble covered his jaw. His dark blond hair was worn long, stopping at the nape of his neck, shorter strands framing his jaw and temples in disarray. His frame was broad, muscular, and for some reason—perhaps it was the scent of musky heat that emanated off him like sweet hay, or the golden tan on his forearms—I got the impression that he was used to outdoor labor. If he was the owner of this grand house, that struck me as strange.

  The only aspect of him that was less than harsh, and almost appeared out of place with the rest of his appearance, was his full lips, set in a perfect cupid’s bow. My eyes shifted away from staring at them for any longer than a split second, disturbed at my o
wn reaction to them.

  When I realized that I was no longer afraid of the man, my immediate reaction was one of rage, one that was clearly shared with Jovi.

  “Who are you?” Jovi demanded. “What have you done with us, and our friends?”

  The man shifted his gaze to Jovi. I hadn’t fully realized that while I had been staring at him, he had been assessing me with the same degree of intensity. It was only as his attention shifted that I felt able to speak, my anger tumbling out.

  “Speak to us!” I said, when the man remained silent. “Where are we?”

  The man sighed, his attention flitting to our clasped hands. It felt like his gaze burnt them, instantly making me want to release Jovi, so I held on tighter, not willing to be animated like a puppet by this stranger.

  “Before you vent your rage at me, understand that I have performed a great service on behalf of your friends—they were in great danger at the fae palace,” the man replied after a pause, his voice low and gravelly.

  At the mention of my friends, I instantly changed tack.

  “Where are they? Are they here?” I asked. I hadn’t seen them as I’d looked through the house.

  “They are here,” he replied. “Safe.”

  “Where? Take us to them!” Jovi demanded, losing patience with the outwardly calm attitude of the man.

  “You won’t like what you see,” the man replied with a sigh, as if our panic was tedious to him, and something that he didn’t have the patience to deal with.

  “What does that mean?” I snapped, irritated at his vague answers and general attitude.

  “It means I will show them to you, but you need to try to remain calm—and listen to me first,” he announced, rising to his full height from the chair. He was about a head taller than me, and I’d been correct about his frame being broad; as he rose, he seemed to engulf both Jovi and me with his presence.

  “We’re listening,” Jovi replied, his voice taking on a growl of warning.

  The man nodded, turning away from us both and proceeding to walk toward a door, different to the one we’d entered through, at the far end of the room.

  “Your friends are going through a state of transformation,” he continued. “It was already beginning before I could reach you. I took them to save them from a fate that would be a great deal worse than death—left on the fae star, they would have very shortly been taken by creatures far deadlier than me.”

  “What kind of transformation?” I asked, while at the same time perplexed that a creature I so far understood to be human would know about the fae star…and manage to spirit away supernaturals from it.

  “You will see.”

  He opened the door, revealing a set of narrow stone steps leading down into more darkness. I glanced at Jovi. He nodded, indicating that we should follow the man. It was worth taking the risk to find our friends.

  The man lit a lamp on the wall with a match. The light didn’t do much to lift the gloom of the stairwell, but it was better than nothing. As we followed the man down, I started to syphon off him as gently as I could. I didn’t want him to realize what I was doing till it was too late. As I mentally reached out for his energy, I started to realize he wasn’t as human as I’d first thought. He was a supernatural of some kind, but nothing that I recognized. Still, his energy was heady and powerful—almost as warming and enriching as sunlight itself.

  “Stop that,” he intoned, pausing on one of the steps.

  Jovi and I quickly looked at one another.

  “Stop what?” I asked.

  “Whatever it is you’re doing. What are you, anyway?” He spun around, glaring at me. “I know you’re a werewolf,” he added dismissively, waving his hand at Jovi, “but you are something else entirely.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, determined not to divulge any information that he might be able to use against us.

  He smirked at me, a cruel, calculating glance, but said nothing further, continuing his descent to the bottom of the staircase. I stopped syphoning, realizing I was pushing my luck. I tried to use True Sight to better understand where he was taking us, but there was only one room ahead—with a wooden door, looking as old and crumbling as the rest of the house. The only disturbing thing about it was I couldn’t see through it. The door or the walls around us. I stopped, unwilling to follow the man any further.

  “Jovi, wait.” I grasped the material of his shirt. “I think this is a trick.”

  Both Jovi and the stranger spun around to face me.

  “There’s no trick,” the man replied before Jovi could ask me what was wrong. He looked speculatively at me for a moment. I could see he was wondering what abilities I possessed, and then his eyes lit up in understanding.

  “The room we’re about to enter is heavily guarded. Not by living souls, but by ancient wards that you couldn’t possibly comprehend. If you have a gift of advanced sight”—his lip twitched as he registered my look of frustration—“it will be useless here. My sincerest apologies,” he added smoothly, returning his attention to the door. He took out a set of keys. Jovi and I watched, standing side by side, ready for anything that might emerge from the locked room.

  A key clicked in the lock, and presently the door swung open. The man stood aside, gesturing for us to enter.

  “You first,” Jovi snapped. The man nodded, crossing the threshold. We both followed, entering a cold, damp room. In front of us were three iron tables—they looked a little like old-fashioned hospital gurneys—and on top of them lay three bodies, covered to their necks with white sheets.

  I was about to demand an explanation and ask again for our friends, but as I looked more closely at the figures, I realized I was looking at them: the bodies on the tables belonged to Vita, Aida and Phoenix.

  Serena

  [Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]

  Their breathing sounded like panting, short labored breaths that made me terrified, even more so as they lay completely still, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful, as if they were asleep…or in death.

  “Oh, my God,” I breathed, rushing over to my brother. I felt for his hand, lifting up part of the sheet to find it. His fingers were ice-cold, and unyielding. I placed mine over them, hoping I could somehow warm him.

  “What have you done!” I shouted, turning toward the monster by the door. Jovi was bent over Aida, his figure as still as the bodies on the table. What nightmare have we entered? I had thought this place resembled a stuffy old museum. Now it was fast becoming a house of horrors.

  “Nothing,” he replied sternly. “As I told you, they are experiencing a transformation—not activated by me.”

  I turned, ready to claw out his eyes, but Jovi beat me to it. Leaping across the room, suddenly more beast than man, he launched himself at our abductor. Jovi reached out to grasp his neck, but the man lifted his arm, slamming it into Jovi’s face. I expected the werewolf to stumble back and cry out at the force of the impact, but instead Jovi flew through the air, clearing the length of the room and slamming into the furthest wall.

  “Jovi!” I cried, running toward him.

  He sat up as I reached him, looking furious and dazed, but not seriously injured. I turned to face the man, reaching out for him with all the mental strength I could muster. He scowled, feeling my attempts to drain him. With the force of my syphon he should have at least wavered, clutched his head in agony, or cried out. Instead, he cocked an eyebrow, almost amused at my efforts. He closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t hear. A split second later, he placed his palm on his forehead—gently, almost as if in prayer. I felt my link with his mind break, the tendrils of energy I’d sent out to drain him vanishing as if they were nothing but mists.

  “What are you, and what’s your name?” I asked, breathing heavily. My own head had started to ache furiously, drained of any mental reserves I’d had left.

  “I’m a Druid,” he replied evenly, “and that’s what you can call me. I doubt that you have com
e across my kind before. We live in the In-Between, and there are too few of us left.”

  “Is that like a warlock?” I asked, trying to ascertain exactly how much danger we had gotten into.

  “No.”

  I waited for him to elaborate further, but he remained silent. In frustration, I turned away from him, helping Jovi to his feet. The werewolf was almost shaking with rage.

  “When will they wake up?” Jovi demanded, his jaw clenched so tightly he could hardly speak.

  “That I do not know,” the Druid replied. “I haven’t seen the transformation take place before—this is as new to me as it is to you.”

  “What transformation?” I replied angrily. “Stop answering with riddles we don’t understand! You claim you’re helping them—explain to me how? Explain to me how they weren’t safe on a star, surrounded by some of the most powerful supernaturals in existence?”

  “If you think for a moment that ‘GASP’, or whatever your band of merry supernaturals call themselves,” he bit out, “are more powerful than what will be coming for your friends, you are a fool.”

  I laughed at the Druid, so incensed by his dismissive attitude that I half felt like I’d gone completely mad. Who the hell did he think he was?

  “You have made a huge mistake,” I replied once my hysteria had calmed. “Whatever you are, whatever this place is, whatever is happening to my friends and my brother—you are going to pay. You obviously don’t understand who you’re messing with. My family will hunt you down, and they won’t rest until you’ve been hung, drawn and quartered at their hands!”

  “Enough,” Jovi murmured to me, clutching my arm. I hadn’t realized that my body had started to shake. “Take it easy,” he continued in a soothing voice.