All You Desire (46 page)

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?”