The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(92)

“They’re saying it’s a volcano?” Cybele said incredulously. “In Wales? Who the hell’s going to believe that?”

“Most people, probably,” Luc said. “It’s a lot easier to believe in a volcanic eruption than a demon invasion.”

“Someone’s going to figure out the truth.”

“Yeah, a few nutjobs. The same guys who go for chemtrails and aliens. Who’s going to believe them?”

The reporter droned on. “... authorities have blockaded surrounding roadways. More than seventy persons are confirmed dead with many more missing. Injuries are overwhelming local hospitals. The public is advised to avoid the area. The ash plume represents a danger to air travel as well. All airports in the UK and Ireland have suspended operations indefinitely. Passengers are advised to contact their carriers for updates.”

“How long do you think this’ll last?” Cybele asked.

“Hell if I know,” Luc said.

“I wish Arthur would wake up.” Cybele’s eyes strayed toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “What if he doesn’t? What’ll we do? We can’t hide in this apartment forever. But we can’t leave, not without Arthur. He’s the only one who can stand up to Mab.”

“Every adept in Demon’s Hollow is Mab’s thrall,” Luc conceded. “Except Evander, of course, but we both know our father is a coward. But...do you remember the challenge after Arthur’s father was killed?”

“Of course I remember. The British Druids arrived in Texas barely a day after Mab arrived with Arthur.” Cybele had caught only a glimpse of the frightened boy before Mab had thrown him into the cellar.

“You remember any of them?” Luc pressed.

“I remember the one who dueled with Mab,” Cybele said. “The Scot. Magnus. The rest of them surrendered their touchstones and flew the hell back to England as quick as lightning after she killed him.”

Mab had never called the British Druids back to Texas again. She’d told them Arthur was dead. She hadn’t wanted them to discover the truth.

“There were at least ten,” Luc said, “including dormants.”

“None of the kids were older than us,” she said. “They wouldn’t be adepts yet. What does it matter?”

“I just wonder where they all are now.”

“Who cares? Mab took their touchstones and forced them to accept her rubies. They all pledged fealty to her.”

“Fealty isn’t like being enthralled,” Luc said. “It’s not a lifetime vow. The promise can be broken.”

“If any of them were strong enough to beat Mab, they would’ve done it seven years ago. I doubt any of them are going to step up to the plate now. If they tried to kill her and lost, they’d end up in Oblivion. Or wearing a thrall collar.”

“No one’s going to be dueling Mab,” a voice behind her said. “Except me.”

Cybele spun around. “Arthur!”





TWENTY-THREE


Arthur braced one arm against the wall. He felt like death warmed over and knew he looked worse. He’d hardly recognized himself in the bedroom mirror. A tap on the shoulder would likely send him crashing to the floor.

If a crushing sense of relief didn’t send him there first. Cybele was alive. Alive and...his eyes narrowed. Alive and here with Luc? What the fuck?

She gave a cry and rushed him. He held up a hand before she could knock into him. She halted, uncertainly, a few steps away.

His chin jerked. “What’s he doing here? Where’s his mistress?”

“Arthur.” Cybele put a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. Mab doesn’t know where we are.”

He eyed Luc’s thrall collar. “Unless the bitch is dead, she’s searching. When he casts magic, she’ll know which direction to look.”

Luc’s expression went hard, but he made no reply.

“He hasn’t cast any magic. And besides, she can’t see into—” Cybele tugged Arthur toward a sagging blue sofa. “Sit down and I’ll explain.”

He let her guide him, because, bugger it all, his legs were shaky. He made it to the couch and sat down heavily. Bracing his elbows on his thighs, he bowed his head and willed the room to stop spinning.

Cybele sank down beside him. An old telly, on a stand in the corner, was on.

“—speaking with Helena Grant-Barclay, professor of geology at the University of Cambridge. Dr. Grant-Barclay, what do you make of this catastrophic situation?”

“Brooke, the eruption in Wales has shocked the scientific community. The notion that an active volcanic system exists in the UK is not something research has heretofore uncovered.”

Arthur looked up. “Volcano?”

“But there have been several earthquakes in the UK in recent years,” the reporter protested. “Including, I’m told, a tremor in Wales. Weren’t those events red flags?”

“Not necessarily,” the geologist replied. “Most tremors aren’t caused by volcanic activity. Movement is common at major tectonic boundaries, such as those between continents. Minor fault lines exist throughout Scotland, Kent, and the Home Counties. UK monitoring stations record hundreds of tremors each year. Out of these, only ten or so are strong enough to be felt by the public.”