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I remembered her supercilious glances whilst I’d been giving evidence to support Emory. Her dislike had seemed so strong; was there something else there? Had some werewolf done her wrong a few centuries ago and she’d been holding a grudge all this time? Because if so, I had to say that it was Olympic-level grudge holding and that really wasn’t healthy; she needed to learn to let it go. Assuming, of course, that thiswasabout a grudge and not some other reason.
I toyed with that thought. What else could it be? The only answer that came to mind was power or riches. If the orb was working, maybe she could sell it for a prettypenny so riches were a distinct possibility; shut down, it was nothing more than a pretty paperweight.
That left power. Had she wanted the air power for herself? That seemed unlikely; she had wings so she could generate a fair amount of wind, plus she had her fire power and her slice of invulnerability. Did she want nothing more than to take power from us? Was it that simple? She had taken power from Emory; had she taken power from us too?
For some reason, that struck a chord. She was exactly the sort of petty bitch that would trample all over someone’s far prettier sandcastle.
Whatever her motivation, the solution remained the same: it was time for us to steal it back, notnownow but when we were back in our own time. It was well documented that the werewolves’ air powers had been lost for centuries and I didn’t want to mess with the timeline any more than I already had – and I really had been toying with it. I’d whispered sweet nothings in its ear whilst I’d thoroughly shafted it from behind.
Hopefully the intervening centuries had made Geneve complacent and lax, so maybe stealing back the orb would be a cakewalk. Of course, there was every possibility that it would end in fiery death for us all. It was always important to make a list of pros and cons.
The train squealed into the station and we stood to make our way out of it. ‘After you,’ a passenger said politely.
‘Thank you,’ I responded as I climbed out, automatically giving a reserved smile to the kindly gentlemen – and then my insides froze.
The Librarian looked exactly the same. He was wearing small, wire-framed glasses and his beard was neatly trimmed. I stared at him, open-mouthed.
He winked. ‘It is not considered polite to gape in this century, Lucy Alessandro-Barrett. Perhaps in the next, hmm? Don’t forget about the prophecy.’ With that, he disappeared into the crowd.
‘Wait!’ I called after him, but he didn’t.
The prophecy? Unbidden, the words rose in my mind:
Born to fire
Wolf torn
Bridge the chasm
End the forlorn
Curse be lifted
Wolves be whole
Destroy the order
Pay the toll
A Queen Alpha
Past before seen
Reverse what was
And shouldn’t have been.
Oh my God: The Order.Thatwas where I’d heard that phrase before. It wasn’t ‘destroy the order’,it was‘destroy The Order’.I wasn’t just destined to destroy the status quo, but the Domini themselves.
Lost as I was in my own head, I didn’t notice Timmy Krieg until he was right in front of me. He looked at our little group and frowned. ‘Where’s Torr?’ he asked.
My mouth went dry. ‘He didn’t make it,’ I said finally.
Krieg frowned, clearly not believing me, and switched his gaze to the monolithic man beside me. He quirked an eyebrow in tacit question and Langston nodded sharply. ‘We burned his body.’ Absolutely true: the man was a smooth talker.
‘Why did you come to meet me?’ I asked Krieg abruptly. My heart was aching and tiredness was swamping me.
‘What makes you think I’m here for you?’ he tutted. ‘Such arrogance. I’m here for Denby.’ He nodded at Langston.
