The Visitor (Graveyard Queen, #4)(37)
“Trust me, I know the history of the Order of the Coffin and the Claw,” he said with an acerbic edge. “My grandfather made certain of it.”
“He hasn’t told you everything. He can’t. Not yet.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Like the Devlins and the Goodwines, the roots of the Order go all the way back to the beginning of Charleston. My ancestors came over on slave ships. One of them was a powerful tagati, a witch doctor who bartered his magic to the most prominent men in the city, men like your ancestors, in exchange for his freedom.”
“Are you saying my family was in league with yours?”
“Until the Devlin conscience got the better of them, and then they and the tagati became mortal enemies. Some would say the Order was born from their blood feud.”
“Fascinating.” Devlin was back to being amused. “Does that make us mortal enemies, then?”
Mariama was silent for a moment. “You take these things far too lightly. What we are about to do is serious. Irrevocable. Are you sure you want to go through with it?”
“Sure. Why not?” he said with an easy grin.
“Very well. Clear your mind so that our thoughts become one. A single consciousness.” As Mariama spoke, she withdrew a small dagger from her pocket and, taking Devlin’s hand in hers, carved a crescent in his palm.
He swore.
“The cut has to be deep to bind us.” She sliced her own palm without a flinch. “Now we join hands.” She laced her fingers through his. “We become one mind, one body, one soul. I’m in your blood now, a part of you. Nothing can ever tear us apart. Not time, not history, not even death. From this day forward, I will be with you always. No matter what happens, I will never leave you.”
“Never is a long time,” he said.
“For us it’s but the blink of an eye.”
She smiled over her shoulder then, peering through the shadows until her gaze lit upon me.
That wasn’t possible, of course. If this were really Devlin’s memory, she couldn’t know I was there. I told myself it had to be a daydream or my own fanciful projection. But I could smell the ozone of her magic. I could feel the presence of something dark and powerful behind me.
Slowly I turned to search the woods.
A tall figure stood in the shadows watching me. My heart started to race as Darius Goodwine moved into the light to confront me.
I hadn’t seen him since the night we’d struck a bargain for Devlin’s life. How was it we were facing off now in Devlin’s memory when I hadn’t known either of them in the distant past?
“Why are you here?” I asked.
A cryptic smile flashed. “The better question is, why are you here?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know how I got here.”
“Of course you do. You have a powerful gift, one that is constantly changing and evolving as your connection to the dead world grows stronger. You’re not the same person as when we first met, nor will you be the same when our paths cross again. But one thing hasn’t changed. You continue to align yourself with the one man who could be your undoing.”
I frowned. “Devlin would never hurt me.”
“Not now, perhaps. But who knows what the futures holds?” Darius cocked his head, studying me. “Do you think you’re the only one wrestling with a legacy? Do you think you’re the only one being guided by destiny?”
“What do you mean?”
“Once John Devlin’s grandfather is gone, there will be demands put upon him. Expectations that even you can’t imagine.”
“Tell me.”
“Not yet. Not until you’re ready. But watch your back, Graveyard Queen. You have no idea who John Devlin really is.”
“Wait!” I cried as he began to fade back into the shadows. But he was already gone and when I turned, Devlin and Mariama had also vanished, leaving me to my own memories and a troubling premonition that my future with Devlin had been doomed from the moment we met.
*
I shook myself out of the memory, the daydream...whatever it had been. The eerie sensation had lasted only a split second, but during that moment, I’d unconsciously taken Devlin’s hand. Now I turned his palm up, searching, finding and then tracing the tiny moon-shaped scar with my thumb.
He recoiled in shock, backing away from me as he stared at his palm in revulsion. Then, shoving both hands into his pockets, he paced to the windows and stood staring out into the garden.
Neither of us said anything for the longest time. It was strange how close we’d been one moment and now it seemed that miles and centuries of history separated us. I studied his rigid form, badly shaken by what I’d seen. By what I’d heard.
“John...” I said on a breath.
He turned with shuttered eyes.
I had no idea what I’d been about to say to him. Maybe I meant to ask him about his family’s history and the expectations that came with his legacy as a Devlin. Maybe I wanted him to reassure me that nothing from his past or mine could tear us apart. Instead, I shifted my focus to the tiny indentation just beneath his bottom lip. I’d wondered about that scar for so long. Maybe if I emptied my mind...
No, I told myself firmly. No more playing around with a power I didn’t yet understand.
“You’re looking at me very strangely.” His voice sounded strained, foreign. Did he have an inkling of what had just transpired? I didn’t understand it myself and I still wasn’t entirely convinced I hadn’t imagined the whole thing. “What is it?” he asked.