CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
“Haven, Iain, get out of bed!” Frances shouted
through the bedroom door.
“What time is it? Am I late?” Haven mumbled.
It was still dark. Haven blindly groped for Iain’s
cell phone on the bedside table. When the light came on, the clock
read 5:35 a.m.
“Haven, Iain, get out here!” Frances shrieked
again. “Something’s happened.”
Iain pulled on a pair of jeans and was the first to
the door. “Is Leah okay?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Leah’s asleep. Come to the living room. There’s
something you need to see.” Once they were there, Frances pointed
at the television. “It’s on most of the channels now.”
The New York Post is reporting that the
former president of an elite Manhattan social club has come forward
with some stunning allegations. Padma Singh claims that the
Ouroboros Society, located in Gramercy Park, has been functioning
as an organized crime ring for decades. During her tenure as
president, Singh kept detailed notes on the illegal activities of
the OS club’s members. In her files, she accuses some of the
best-known names in Manhattan of crimes ranging from prostitution
and drug dealing to arson and murder. Ms. Singh has even . .
.
“Those lying bastards,” Iain growled. “The
Post ran the story a day early.” He rushed back to the
bedroom and returned moments later in his coat and shoes.
“What does this mean?” Frances asked.
“It means I have to find Padma before the OS does,”
Iain said. “She wasn’t supposed to leave the city until
tomorrow.”
“No!” Haven shouted. “They’ll be looking for you
too!”
“Which is why I have to go right now.” He planted a
quick kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back before you leave to see
Adam.”
“Iain!” Haven yelled again as he ran out the door.
“Be careful!” she added, but he could no longer hear her.
Iain didn’t return in time to see Haven off. She
tried calling, only to hear his phone ring down the hall in
Frances’s apartment. In his rush to save Padma, he’d left it lying
on the bedside table. Haven showered, dressed, and waited for word
from him. At nine thirty, Leah found her still sitting on the
unmade bed, the ring Iain had given her now back on her finger. She
was gazing at the glass jewel set in gold and praying it would
bring her the luck she needed.
“The car is here for you,” Leah said. “Frances says
if you’re going, you need to go soon.”
“Am I doing the right thing?” Haven asked
Leah.
The scrawny girl shook her head. “You’re the only
one who knows that. But I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust
you.”
Haven held out Iain’s phone. “Will you keep this
with you? Iain might try to get in touch while I’m gone.”
“You’re not going to take it?”
“If Iain needs help, I won’t be in any position to
give it. I need you to watch out for him. If something happens to
him, I won’t survive.”
“What about you?” Leah asked. “What if
you need help?”
“If I need help, I’m not sure there’s much you can
do.”
HAVEN’S CAR CAME to a halt outside the tall gothic
gatehouse of Green-Wood Cemetery. Beyond the brown spires lay
another realm—a silent, still, and perfectly white world. The snow
that had long since turned to slush on the city’s streets had yet
to be sullied within the cemetery’s walls. Only a few narrow paths
were cleared, and they wound like black ribbons around the graves.
The scene took Haven back to the day they buried Beau’s mother.
There had been snow on the ground then too. Haven had held Beau’s
hand as they stood at the edge of a hole carved out of the frozen
earth. She took a silent oath by that grave—to give Beau everything
he’d lost when his mother died. Haven promised him her protection,
encouragement, and unconditional love. But it had only taken a few
short years before she’d failed Beau once again.
Haven checked her watch. It was exactly ten
o’clock, and aside from a solitary guard sipping coffee inside the
gatehouse, she was completely alone. As the minutes ticked past,
she began to worry. Adam was never late. Had the events of the
morning kept him away?
“You waiting for someone? You want to come sit
inside?” the guard addressed her from the door of his booth.
“A friend was supposed to meet me here,” Haven
said. “He must be running late.”
“You talking about a tall guy in a dark
overcoat?”
“Yes,” Haven said. “That’s him.”
“He got here a while back. Aside from a couple of
ladies, he’s the only visitor we’ve had today.”
“Did you see which way he went?”
“Up the hill to the left,” the guard said. “Where
he went after that, I couldn’t tell you.”
“Thanks,” Haven said.
The city vanished, and silence enveloped her. A
cold wind blew at her back, pushing Haven gently along the path.
Everywhere she looked, angels refused to meet her gaze, their heads
either lifted toward heaven or bowed down to the earth below. When
she reached the top of the hill, Haven took one last glance at the
gates and the guardhouse and then plunged into the woods. She had
never felt so alone.
From the summit, the path wound down the other side
toward a little lake set in a valley. At the base of the hill was a
single door—the entrance to a tomb cut into the rock. The style was
ancient, but the marble was freshly chiseled. The white of the
stone blended in with the snow that concealed the land. On either
side of the door sat two statues, a man and a woman. Haven
recognized the hand of Matteo Salvadore in the sculptures’ graceful
curves. The figures wore long robes with hoods that cast dark
shadows over their faces. Most visitors might have mistaken them
for mourners, but the look in the eyes that peered out was not
grief-stricken but proud. They were the only ones in this cemetery
who’d come willingly. They were there to rule over it.
Seated on a bench near the pond, a figure in black
watched the frozen water.
“It’s lovely here,” Haven said. She wished she
could hold his head under the surface of the pond and let him
experience the pain and panic that Piero must have felt.
Adam was so still he could have been part of the
scenery. “Yes. And calm. I’ve never understood why some of you
choose to return to this world. If I had a choice, I would stay in
the land of the dead.”
“Why didn’t you wait for me outside the gates?”
Haven asked him.
“I was almost hoping you wouldn’t come.”
“Why wouldn’t I come?”
“Surely you saw the news,” Adam said.
“Yes.”
“Then you must realize that the Ouroboros Society
will never survive. I have nothing to offer you now. But I want you
to know that I did try. I tried to give you the one thing no one
else could possibly give you. There were simply too many forces
working against me. I wanted to evolve, but the world wouldn’t let
me.”
“Adam . . .”
He stood up and took a golden key from his pocket.
“Since you’ve made the trip, would you like to see the tomb’s
interior? It’s a work of unimaginable beauty.” Adam waded through
the snow to the entrance of the mausoleum. The door was a slab of
marble over twelve inches thick, yet he pushed it open as if it
were Styrofoam.
The anteroom was small, with an arched ceiling. A
stone fountain stood in the center, water bubbling from the mouth
of a brilliant blue bird molded out of clay. A fine mist seemed to
hang in the air, and the walls were decorated with scenes from a
lovely garden filled with flowering fruit trees and fluttering
creatures.
“It’s beautiful,” Haven remarked coldly.
“There’s more.” Adam removed a gas lantern that was
hanging from a hook on the wall and made sure the flame burned
brightly before he opened another door.
The inner space was much larger than Haven could
have imagined, an empty room with seven stone doors. On the floor,
tiny shards of glass and precious stones formed a stunning mosaic.
A god on a golden chariot pulled by two black horses held a
struggling maiden. A hole had opened up in a flowering field, and
the horses raced toward the chasm, eager to return to the dark
world that lay beneath. Haven knew the scene well.
“You brought it all the way here? The mosaic from
our home in Crete?” Haven asked, her voice echoing around the
chamber.
“No, this is merely a replica. Your feet never
touched these tiles. It’s the image itself that holds great meaning
for me. From the moment I first saw you in your father’s garden, I
knew I could never deserve you. I was convinced that the only way
to have you was to steal you as Hades did in the myth and trick you
into staying with me. I bought this mosaic in Rome to remind me of
the errors I’ve made. Each of the women inside this crypt was only
mine for a season. Then, like flowers, they all wilted and died. I
was hoping to end that cycle. This time, I wanted you to choose me
of your own free will. If you did, I would never need to fear
losing you. Now it seems my efforts have been in vain. When did you
choose to side with the Horae, Haven?”
The walls of the tomb seemed to close in on her as
she tried to figure out what it all meant. “You know about the
Horae?”
“I had my suspicions. I thought they might be
confirmed when you invited me here today. And yet I still hoped . .
.”
He couldn’t continue.
“You hoped?” Haven prompted.
“I hoped you would appreciate the changes I’ve
made—to myself and the Society. I hoped you would decide to leave
Iain to be with me—not just for a season, but forever. But somehow
the Horae have turned you against me once more. What did they tell
you this time?”
“They say you brought the black death to Italy in
the fourteenth century, and that you will bring a new plague to New
York.”
“I did bring the black death to Italy; that is
true,” Adam admitted, much to Haven’s surprise. “I had spent too
much time in other lands, and the Horae had come to dominate
Europe. There’s a reason those centuries were known as the Dark
Ages. The people were locked into an order they could not escape.
Those who were born peasants died peasants. The very idea of
learning was stifled. All power lay in the hands of a tiny
minority. I found a way to break the system apart. After the plague
there was chaos, but that chaos was preferable to the order that
preceded it.”
“Your solution killed millions and millions of
people.”
“Yes, but their descendants led better lives. Which
option would you have chosen for the people of Europe? Death or
hopelessness?”
“Is that why you’ve planned another plague? To
shake up the system again?”
“I haven’t planned another plague,” Adam said. “Ask
the snake goddess, Haven. She’s the only one you can trust. She’s
the only one without a motive to lie.”
“She’s had visions of the future, Adam. There
will be a plague.”
“And I’m the only possible explanation?”
Haven didn’t have an answer.
“I can sense your uncertainty. You know in your
heart that I’m innocent, but there’s still something else,” Adam
continued. “What more have the Horae told you?”
“It’s not what they’ve told me, Adam. It’s what
I’ve seen for myself. I had a vision of Piero and Naddo’s bodies
being delivered to your house. Their throats had been cut.”
“Yes, I had their bodies fished out of the river. I
heard they had been murdered, and I wanted you to be able to give
them a proper burial.”
Haven shook her head furiously, as though trying to
keep his lies from taking root in her mind. “You killed my brother,
and you let me think I was responsible!”
“No, Haven. Once again I’m innocent of your
charges. You’ve chosen not to see the truth. Parts of a life can
not tell a whole story.”
Those were the very words Leah had once used. And
Leah Frizzell never lied. Haven felt her rage dissolving. She
couldn’t condemn him for crimes she had no proof he’d
committed.
“Would you like to know how the tale ended?” Adam
asked.
“You already told me. I helped the Horae lock you
away.”
“That wasn’t the end, Haven. You locked me away.
But thirty years later, you had a change of heart. You were the one
who set me free.”
“I did?” Haven asked.
Just then, they heard stone sliding across stone
and iron hinges groaning under great strain. Haven rushed for the
anteroom to see the pale winter sunlight shut out of the crypt. The
entrance was closed. There was the faintest sound of a key rattling
inside the lock. Then the silence was absolute.
“Stop!” Haven screamed, banging on the door with
her fists. “I’m still inside! Stop!”
“No one can hear you,” Adam said behind her. “The
walls are more than a foot thick.”
Haven spun around. The lamplight hollowed out
Adam’s eyes, and his pale skin shone like alabaster. The shadow he
threw against the wall was that of a giant. Adam’s human disguise
was flickering, failing. She was trapped underground with something
more—or less—than a man. An immortal being who now knew that she
had betrayed him.
“It seems you’ve been double-crossed,” Adam
observed. “The Horae didn’t think they could trust you.”
For a moment, Haven couldn’t find her voice. It
remained lodged somewhere deep in her throat, choking her. “What
are you going to do to me?” she asked, finally forcing the words
out into the air.
“That depends,” Adam said reasonably. His calmness
frightened Haven even more than a rage possibly could. “Would you
mind telling me what you know of the Horae’s plan?”
Haven hesitated.
“You needn’t tell me now. It looks as though we may
have all eternity to discuss such matters.”
“They came to see the mausoleum. They made a key to
the seventh room—the one without a coffin. They wanted me to lock
you inside and leave you there.”
“A worthy scheme,” Adam said. “If that door had a
lock. May I see the key you were given?”
Haven dug into her pocket and handed him the
key.
Adam barely glanced at it. “Useless,” he
pronounced, tossing it across the room. The metallic ping echoed
four times around the chamber. “They never intended to let you go
free.” He came toward her, his steps slow and steady. She let her
head drop, unable to face him. She could feel his cold breath stir
her hair.
“Now that you’ve heard the truth, could you have
done as the Horae asked?”
“I don’t think so,” Haven replied honestly. There
was no longer any reason to lie. “I wouldn’t have gotten involved
with the Horae at all if they hadn’t deceived me. They were the
ones who kidnapped Beau—and they told me I needed their help to
find him. You were the price I had to pay. I’m sorry I ever agreed.
I still don’t know if you’re lying to me about the plague—or about
Piero and Naddo. I go crazy every time I remember their bodies
lying on the street in front of your house. But I couldn’t lock you
away unless I was absolutely certain you had something to do with
their murders.”
“So the Horae have Beau?” Adam asked.
“Phoebe is their leader. That’s why Beau was at
Calum’s apartment.”
Adam’s laughter ricocheted off the marble walls.
“Of course! How brilliant! She would have known about the
improvements being made at the Society. She needed to bring you
back to New York before they were complete. She knew that in time I
might have made you an offer too good to refuse. If I won your
heart, Phoebe would lose her only weapon against me.”
“More time wouldn’t have helped you win my heart,”
Haven said, trying not to be cruel. “Everything you’ve done was
meant to impress me. And I’ve realized that isn’t what I
want. I want someone who does the right thing even when no one is
watching. But let’s be honest, Adam. You would never have made
those improvements if you knew I’d never see them. You wouldn’t
have acted on your own. You were just manipulating me, and I was
silly enough to feel flattered. It was wonderful to think that I
might have inspired someone so powerful to do good things. But
eventually I would have figured out that none of it was
real.”
“The improvements weren’t real—because they were
made for your sake?” Adam argued, though his face said he knew that
he’d already lost. “All the wonderful things the OS might have
accomplished would have been worthless? You’re right, Haven. I
don’t have much of a moral compass. It makes no difference to me
how chaos is spread. A plague or a school—it’s all the same in the
end. That’s why I recruited Owen Bell. He could have compensated
for my failings. It’s a pity the Society will be destroyed. We both
know Owen could have made the OS everything you ever wanted it to
be.”
“Does it have to be destroyed?” Haven asked.
“I’m not sure we can do much to save it from inside
this tomb,” Adam said.
“We won’t be in here forever,” Haven said with a
surge of hope. “There are people who know where I am. They’ll
rescue us both.”
“Anyone you told about the mausoleum won’t have
long to live.” Adam broke the news to her gently. “The Horae didn’t
hesitate to lock you inside a tomb with me. They won’t think twice
about killing your friends.”
“You really think so?” Haven gasped.
“It’s what I would have done,” Adam admitted. “And
even if you were to escape, the Horae would make your life
unbearable if you set me free. There are twelve of them, as you may
recall. They can be everywhere at once.”
Haven paced around the fountain in the anteroom,
her panic building. The air in the tomb seemed too thin.
“There is one solution,” Adam said
softly.
“What is it?” Haven asked.
“You escape now and rescue your friends. But you
must leave me behind.”
“Please don’t tease me. I can’t escape on my
own.”
“Oh, but you can,” Adam said. “Do you know why
there were seven rooms built to house six bodies? The seventh room
was always meant to be mine. I told you I avoided the mausoleum to
give you your privacy. But I always planned to return. The
stillness and silence here is the closest thing to sleep I’ve ever
experienced. It gives me peace. I had the mausoleum constructed so
that I could come and go as I pleased.” Like a magician conjuring a
coin, Adam flicked his wrist and a golden key appeared between his
fingers. “The Horae never realized that the same key can open the
door from within the tomb too. Here, Haven. It is
yours.”
“But there isn’t a keyhole,” Haven argued.
“Matteo Salvadore considered this tomb his
masterpiece. He was particularly proud of the mural in this room.
He wanted it to appear perfectly seamless, so he camouflaged the
interior keyhole.” Adam walked to the exit and pried a sliver of
stone from the door. “You’re free to go, Haven.”
“What about you?” she asked.
Adam smiled sadly. “I’d like to stay here for a
while. I could use a rest. The past century has been quite
challenging, even for a creature like me.”
“How will you get out? Do you have a key of your
own?”
“No,” Adam told her. “That’s the only one I brought
with me.”
Haven studied him for signs of uncertainty. “You
want me to lock you inside and leave you?”
“It’s the only way I can make good on my promise to
let you live this life as you choose. And if you go now, you’ll be
able to save the people with whom you’ll want to spend it.
Including the young man who gave you the ring you’re
wearing.”
Haven hadn’t removed her gloves. There was no way
for Adam to have seen the ring she had on her finger.
“You know?”
“You’ve made your choice,” Adam said. “And as a
gentleman, I accept it. I only ask for two things in return. First,
please deliver the key to the snake goddess. She’ll know when the
time has come to release me.”
“Are you sure?” Haven asked. “Leah thinks you’re
the next closest thing to the devil.”
“The snake goddess knows that even the devil should
have his day.”
“And your second request?”
“Kiss me again,” Adam said. “Let me imagine for a
moment that you belong to me. The memory will keep me company in my
solitude.”
It was a terrible deal, Haven thought. A single
kiss in exchange for her life. He deserved much more than that. So
without saying a word, she gave him a small piece of her heart as
well. Iain could keep the rest, but Haven needed Adam to take
something in return for the sacrifice he was making.
Haven stepped toward him and closed her eyes.
Adam’s lips were cold, his fingers ice. The kiss they shared felt
different. In the lobby of the Gramercy Gardens Hotel, Haven had
embraced a young man. Now she was wrapped in the arms of an
immortal being. She could feel Adam draining the warmth from her
body. Her heartbeat slowed. Death was dragging her into the chasm,
and she couldn’t find the strength to struggle. Her very last
thought was of Iain.