Shadow's End (Elder Races, #9)(70)

SIXTEEN


The surge of relief Graydon felt at Soren’s words was painful in the extreme.

Imperceptible though his connection to Malphas was, it had become unbearable, as heavy as the shackle Ferion had said he carried.

Starting to nod, he forced himself to pause and consider every angle. He said tensely, “What if you try and fail?”

Bel twisted her hands together, her expression mirroring his feelings. They had come too far, and had gone too long, to screw this up now.

Soren’s brusque manner softened as he regarded Bel. He told them, “I will not fail. If I cannot remove the connection from you without alerting the other Djinn, I will not do it. But I am one of the oldest and strongest of my kind. I am also one of the most adept. I have removed connections before that have been deemed invalid, when I’ve acted as either a member of the Djinn assembly or as head of the Elder tribunal.”

“Yes,” Bel said suddenly. “I believe you. Please, do it.”

Soren inclined his head. He glanced at Graydon, and instead of approaching Bel, he held out his hand.

She strode over to him, slipping her fingers in his. Graydon tensed. He hated how close the other male was to her, and he fought the urge to knock them apart. Violent thoughts flashed through his mind, and his body knotted, muscles leaping with tension.

Vaguely he was aware that the other Wyr, Luis, Rune and Constantine, were all watching him closely. He knotted his hands into fists in an effort to maintain control.

Bel and Soren stood looking into each other’s eyes. Something happened, some tiny shift, that was too subtle for Graydon to fully assess.

Soren said quietly, “It’s gone.”

“You’re sure?” Graydon demanded.

Soren gave him a wary glance. “Yes, I’m quite sure.”

Bel’s composure splintered, painfully and completely.

Her face twisted. Bending over at the waist, she cried out, “We’ve got to stop Malphas! We have to kill him! He trapped and enslaved my son. Oh gods, he’s enslaved him for two hundred years. I need him dead!”

Her raw, anguished fury rocketed around the room. In response, Grace’s eyes filled, and Claudia and Luis flinched. Carling angled her face away, while Constantine and Julian stared at Bel, their eyes burning.

Soren turned to him. “Come, gryphon. Take your freedom.”

Graydon had to fight an almost overwhelming urge to step forward. The need to be free came close to eclipsing everything else. He shook his head and said harshly, “No.”

“Dude,” said Constantine.

Bel straightened to stare at him. “No?”

“We need to get Malphas onto a battlefield,” Graydon told her. “That means I need to be able to summon him. Then we have to hit him as hard and as fast as we can, so he can’t get away.”

“He’s right,” Khalil said. “Setting a trap will give you the highest probability of success. If Malphas goes on the run, waging war against him will be drawn out, miserable, and twice as dangerous. That’s what happened when we fought and killed Lethe.” When Khalil and Carling looked at each other, a shadow fell over both their faces. He finished quietly, “The damage from that war was very great.”

“I can help with that,” said Julian.

Graydon’s eyes narrowed. “How?”

“As Vampyres age, our attributes get stronger, just like any of the other Elder Races.” After returning to the suite Julian hadn’t bothered to sit again. He stood, arms crossed, with Melly at his side.

“Exactly what does that mean for you?” Soren asked. “What attribute do you bring to this confrontation?”

“I can hold onto my prey,” Julian told them. “If I can get my hands on Malphas, he won’t be going anywhere. Not unless he either frees himself, or I’m dead.”

Beside Julian, Melly’s face turned bone white. She whispered, “That’s ridiculously suicidal.”

“I figure it’ll get intense.” Julian jerked his head in a short acknowledgment. “Which means everybody else is going to have to kill him quick.”

Julian and Melly’s dialogue faded into silence, as they had an obviously tense and quick telepathic exchange. Melly gestured, her movements jerky and uncontrolled, and Julian hauled her into a tight hug.

Rune’s attention had remained fixed on Graydon. He said, “You might summon Malphas, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll show up.”

He acknowledged that with a nod. “I’ve thought of that too. I haven’t called on Malphas in two hundred years. He’ll come. He’ll be too curious not to. The most critical thing we’ll need to do is make sure our attacking forces are cloaked so completely, Malphas doesn’t sense them. He’ll need to believe I’m alone.”

Bel came to his side. She touched his arm, watching his face. “Do you think you can get him to stay long enough to solidify, so that Julian can get hold of him?”

“I think so,” he told her. “Especially since I’m going to offer him the one thing he can’t resist.”

“Not another bargain, I hope,” Constantine said.

“Oh, no.”

“What do you have in mind?” Rune asked, narrow-eyed.

The predator in Graydon came to the forefront. The savagery of his anticipation for the upcoming confrontation filled him completely.