Part 30 (1/2)

Breathe, Lannes told himself. Breathe.

But it was too much. He needed air. He turned around and walked back out to the porch. He saw Rictor in the distance, at the cemetery. Koni perched on the edge of the rail, his arms folded over his chest. Lethe was out there, too, her eyes dark, thoughtful. Lannes felt like everyone was watching him, and they were.

”You must have been a kid down here,” he said roughly, and remembered the little boy William was holding in the group picture-how that child had seemed oddly familiar. ”You were young.”

”I was three,” Frederick said quietly, close behind him. ”But I wasn't here because I was like the others. My father was the one who had...talents. It was his connection with Will's parents that brought him to this place. I just tagged along. I think he hoped I would discover something about myself, though I never did. I remained, as ever, painfully human.”

Lannes turned on him. ”Why didn't you say something?”

”Say what? I didn't know any of this was related. I had no idea who Orwell Price was when you showed me that name.” Frederick closed his eyes, rubbing his neck with a shaky hand. ”I knew him as Marcellus Bredow. It wasn't until I talked to Charlie and heard him mention Etta's name that I started making connections.”

Lannes closed his eyes, and felt Lethe's hand slide down his wrist.

He means it, she said in his mind. He's as confused and hurt by all this as you are.

Yes. He could sense that pain from Frederick's mind. It gave him no satisfaction. He loved Frederick, just as much as his own brothers. The man was his oldest friend.

”I never lied to you,” Frederick whispered. ”But the subject never came up. And I couldn't talk about this place. It was not my secret to give.”

”Did-” Lannes had to stop and take a breath. ”Did your father tell these people about us? Did he share our secrets?”

”No,” Will interjected firmly. ”Until your brother joined the agency, I had never heard one breath about your kind.”

”My father would have died before giving you up,” said Frederick quietly. ”As would I. The rest...was past and done. It wasn't until I talked to Charlie about his new employer and heard that name...”

The old man stopped, rubbing his face. ”It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm here because you need me.”

Lannes wanted to sit down. ”How's that?”

Frederick gave him a long, tired, look. ”Because I'm the only one who knows where Simon is.”

Louisville. It was a private hospital. Frederick had been paying the bills for years. During the telling of it, Lannes' friend grew even paler, his cheeks sunken and shadows filling his gaze. The old man looked as though he had been wrestling with demons. He sat in a rocking chair on the porch.

”I always called him Sal,” he said.

Lannes shook his head in disbelief. ”Sal? Coma Sal? The Sal you've been talking to on the phone at night?”

”He needed help. He's also a distant cousin. Not something I confess easily, even though we were, at one time, close. He's had a pathetic life. I don't say that to make excuses, but it's the truth. None of them did well after they left this place. Karma, I suppose.”

”Did you know what he did to Milly and Runa?”

Something awful pa.s.sed through Frederick's gaze. ”I was too young to understand. Only, Milly disappeared, as did her mother, and there was a great deal of shouting and crying afterwards. My father was furious. I thought he would kill the old Sayers man with his bare hands.”

”And later?”

Frederick closed his eyes. ”Later, nothing. Except that ten years ago, Simon called me out of the blue, desperate. He had no one and was ill with cancer. I felt bad for him. He was afraid of death, and the only friends he'd ever had were ones he eventually manipulated. His finances were in ruin. He had no skills. Not a great personality. All I did in the beginning was pay his bills and occasionally make a call.”

”So, now what?” Lethe spoke up. ”How do you confront a man in a coma?”

”You pull the plug,” Rictor said, stepping up on the porch. Lannes had not heard his approach; the man moved like a ghost.

Frederick stared at him, pure uncertainty flickering through his eyes. ”I know your face.”

”You're older,” Rictor said, and moved past the old man to stand just inside the house, in the shadows.

Lethe frowned at his back. ”I don't know if murder should be an option.”

”It should be,” Koni said, golden eyes briefly glowing. ”You can try to reason with Simon when he's capable of talking to you, but in the meantime you'll still be dodging bullets. Or, I suppose, you wait for him to die. But that could be a while.”

”And eventually, Runa will take over,” Lannes said.

”You're for this, too?” Lethe asked him.

”I'm for keeping you safe. And let's face it, Simon's not exactly helpless.”

”He's an old man,” Frederick growled. ”As so many of us are. I didn't come here for you to murder him.”

”Then, what?” Lannes asked, knowing his anger showed, but unable to help himself. ”He himself is a murderer. And even if you could chalk up what he did in his childhood to accident, he's been trying to kill Lethe. And he's done so with such ease and so little apparent conscience that I can only a.s.sume he's had considerable practice at this sort of thing in the past.”

Exhaustion filled Frederick's face. Lethe grabbed Lannes' arm. ”The issue isn't what he's done wrong. The issue is whether you're going to stoop to his level.”

”Of course I will,” Lannes replied. ”I won't enjoy it. I won't want to do it. But if it keeps you safe, I will end that man's life.”

”Enough,” Will said quietly. He had to be older than Fredrick by almost fifteen years, but he looked as though he could run a marathon, chop down a tree, and juggle rocks one-handed-all in the same day. He was youth, bottled up, and it hurt Lannes to see Frederick look so frail in comparison.

”We'll go to him,” Will continued, with a sudden formality that reminded Lannes of why he was the boss- even if it seemed that most of the people in his employ had never seen him. ”We'll see what can be done. Ms. Lethe, I recommend that you remain here. I'm certain that Rictor won't mind keeping you company.”

Rictor raised an eyebrow. Lannes said, ”Not to step on any toes, but I prefer to stay with her as well.”

Will smiled faintly. ”I know you would. But you have some mental abilities, and besides me and perhaps Ms. Lethe, there's no one else here with that skill.” He glanced at Rictor, whose jaw tightened, his gaze flicking away to the forest. ”I would say that two of us, in dealing with Simon, are better than one.”

Lethe nudged Lannes with her elbow. ”I'll be fine.”

Maybe, he whispered in her mind. But I don't like it.

Conversation was limited after that. Everyone started heading toward the cars. Lannes held back, catching Lethe's hand. He pulled her near, watching the concern in her eyes, sensing the unease in her heart. The bond between them felt as strong as a vein of marble cut from a mountain: old and weathered, timeless.

”Don't,” she whispered. ”Don't do anything you'll regret, just for me.”

”It wouldn't just be for you.” Lannes cupped her face in his palm, riding a sense of wonder that his hand-his real hand, dark and craggy-was touching her cheek. And that her eyes were gazing into his real face with a warmth that he could not fathom.

”It would kill me to lose you,” he said.

”Lannes,” she whispered, and he swooped close, pressing his mouth to her ear.

”I am almost eighty years old,” he told her softly, ”and I have never been in love. But I love you. I love you, Lethe. And no matter what you say, I will protect you.”

He pulled back just enough to kiss her, his sun-warmed wings arched and aching. Lethe clung to him. And when he moved yet again to look into her eyes, he found them glistening with unshed years.

”I want you to be safe, too,” she said hoa.r.s.ely, rubbing her eyes.