Close enough to see Lannes, less than half a block away. Even though it was dark, his size made him stand out. The gargoyle, clad in his illusion, waited on the Central Park side of Fifth Avenue, leaning against one of the old, slightly bent trees growing from the sidewalk. Dead leaves littered the ground, and the park woodlands stretched behind him on the other side of the wall. It was all very idyllic — except for the worry on Lannes’s face as he spoke into his cell phone.
Eddie and Lyssa slid out of the cab. The gargoyle strode toward them, and they met beneath another tree — a tangle of hearts and initials carved into the bark.
“They’re here,” Lannes said into the phone, his massive frame strained and rigid. “No, I’m coming for you. It doesn’t matter anymore, baby. Just. . hold tight.”
He did not hang up but tilted the receiver from his mouth and gave them both a sharp look — especially Lyssa. “There are eight people up there, ranging in ages from twenty to seventy. All family. All upset.”
“Not because of Lethe?” Eddie asked.
“No. I think it has to do with the Cruor Venator.” He gave Lyssa a significant look, and she raised her brow.
“In a perfect world,” she told him, “you wouldn’t even know I exist. Don’t think I wanted this.”
Lannes grunted. Eddie stepped closer to her. “Lethe can’t tell them she needs some fresh air?”
“She tried that. They’re being especially protective.” Lannes pressed the phone to his mouth again. “Okay. I love you.”
They waited for traffic to pass and crossed the road to an elegant building constructed from pale stone. On the other side, though, Lyssa held back and flagged down a cab.
Eddie watched her pass him a twenty.
“I’ll give you another forty, plus fare, if you wait here,” she told him. “We shouldn’t be more than ten minutes, and we’ll want to leave fast.”
“Gonna rob a bank?” teased the man.
“Family reunion.”
“Holy shit,” he said. “I’ll buckle up.”
Eddie gave her an amused look. Lyssa shrugged, rubbing her eyes. “What? You think I want to be stuck here?”
Lannes grunted. “Come on.”
The doorman eyed their faces but didn’t give them any trouble going in. Lethe’s family lived on the top floor. The elevator ride was short, and claustrophobic. Lannes took up most of the space and kept fidgeting.
All while staring at Lyssa. Not with a pleasant look on his face, either.
“There’s something different about you,” he said, just as the elevator reached the tenth floor. “You’ve done magic, haven’t you?”
Lyssa tensed. “Does that bother you?”
He frowned. “Let’s get my wife, then I’ll let it bother me.”
There was only one door on the tenth floor. Eddie heard shouts on the other side.
“What a crappy day for visiting people,” Lyssa muttered.
Lannes dragged in a deep breath, and banged his fist on the door so hard, the entire frame shook. Silence fell on the other side.
And then, very distantly, they heard a woman shout, “LET ME GO!”
Lannes’s entire frame shuddered.
Eddie reacted instinctively, grabbing Lyssa and pulling her out of the way — just as the gargoyle stepped back, his massive hands flexing with loud cracks of bone.
The look in his eyes was pure death, and, with an ear-deafening roar, he slammed his foot into the door — and kicked it in.
Wood splintered everywhere. Eddie heard shouts and gasps of surprise, and followed Lannes into the apartment — fire already burning in his hands. He checked for Lyssa and found her behind him, her eyes glowing, mouth set in a hard line. Fresh blood dotted her nostrils and upper lip.
Five men and women were ranged around the room, all tall, fair-haired, with chiseled cheekbones and slender bodies. None wore bright colors, which reflected the apartment — decorated in white, black, and gray. Books lined tall shelves, and a grand piano sat in the corner. Suitcases lined the wall.
All those people looked stunned, and not at all dangerous. Three more women came running from the hall, of such similar appearance they could have only been sisters. Lethe was behind them, slender and blond, and very pale.
She was the only one dressed in color: a sea-blue silken blouse, with dark jeans and emerald green ballet flats. Golden earrings dangled. Her face was flushed, furious. Eddie had only met her once before, the previous year, during a rooftop barbecue in San Francisco. Sometimes shy, but with a wicked sense of humor, and deep, deep love for the gargoyle who rarely left her side.
When she saw Lannes, a tremendous smile broke out on her face.
“Oh, my God,” said an old man, staring at the gargoyle with disgust. “What is that thing?”
Lethe burst out laughing, but it was sharp and hard, and brittle. Some of her family flinched, but not one took their gaze off Lannes — or him and Lyssa.
“Uncle Douglas,” said Lethe, pushing around the women surrounding her, “that thing is my husband.”
Finally, the entire room did look at her.
“Oh, my God,” said the old man, again.
“I apologize for breaking your door,” rumbled Lannes, with an incongruous politeness that Eddie, under other circumstances, would have found amusing. “I’ll pay for the damages, but my wife is coming with me now.”
No one said a word.
Lethe, who had been running toward Lannes, stopped moving — so suddenly, it was as though her feet were caught in quicksand. Eddie didn’t understand at first why she seemed to hang forward, as if on puppet strings.
It wasn’t until outrage flickered over her face that he realized it wasn’t her choice. Lannes growled, and strode toward her — or tried to. He took one step, and the same thing happened.
His illusion disappeared, as well.
Stripped into nothing but air, revealing his silver skin and massive bound wings. His eyes glowed red, and the tips of his fingers were sharp. His entire body was rigid and straining.
The men and women in the room leaned forward and stared at Lannes as though he were some circus freak.
Eddie scanned their faces. The old man was rubbing his jaw, clutching a cane between his knees, and the middle-aged woman seated on the bench beside him held a glass of red wine in a white-knuckled grip. The three sisters pressed closed together, noses wrinkled as though they smelled something bad and wanted to say, “Ew.”
An elderly woman stood behind Lethe. She was dressed in a loose black dress, and gold bangles jangled on her birdlike wrists. Elegant, graceful, with silver hair tucked up in a small bun. She placed a gentle hand on Lethe’s shoulder.
But that was all. If there was a fight, and magic was involved. .
An odd chill raced over Eddie, as though he stood in an ice-cold river, waters rising over his head. A rippling, lapping sensation.
Energy, came the unbidden thought. This is magic.
Lannes’s muscles strained, and he edged forward another step — though it seemed to cost him a great deal of strength. “You don’t want to do this.”
One of the woman, tall and dressed in black, folded her arms over her chest. She was extremely thin, more so than could be healthy. Eddie hadn’t seen anyone that close to starvation since looking at pictures of concentration-camp victims in World War II.
Her collarbone protruded at painful angles — so did her cheekbones. If her body was cadaverous, however, her eyes were a brilliant shade of green and the most alive and vibrant part of her. Loose blond hair flowed down her back, so perfectly styled she might have just come from a hairdresser.