Cronin's Key II (22 page)

They each held their collective breaths and waited for a miracle to happen.

Nothing.

Nothing happened, at all.

Alec sucked back a ragged breath and choked and coughed on the exhale.

Cronin roared. “Jorge! It’s not working!”

The boy shook his head and his eyes were clear. He spoke quietly and clearly. “Inside the stones. Not these stones but from where he came. From where his blood was born.”

Cronin roared again and his whole body vibrated with anger. “Alec is dying in my arms, and all you have is cryptic riddles!”

“No!” Jorge stood and yelled back at him with more fire and rage Cronin would have given the boy credit for. “Look into Jorge’s mind! See it! See it!”

Inside the stones, from where he came. From where his blood was born.
Cronin closed his eyes and concentrated on Jorge’s thoughts, and he saw exactly what Jorge saw. Cronin’s eyes flew open just as the wooden door smashed inwards and the Terracotta Army flooded in. “Hold on to me!”

Everyone reached out and touched. Jodis picked up Jorge just as Eiji grabbed her arm, as the first of the soldier’s arrows slung through the air, and Cronin leapt.

* * * *

The air was so fresh and cold compared to the rank and humid catacomb in China, Alec convulsed in Cronin’s arms. “It’s almost time,” Cronin whispered, holding him tighter still. “Just hold on for a few minutes more, m’cridhe.”

“Why are we here?” Kennard asked, as they all looked around. It was almost sunrise, the sky was showing off hints of light and glory, and they were surrounded by standing stones.

“From where he came. From where Alec’s blood was born, Jorge said,” Cronin answered. “His father’s family is from Calanais. And these are the Calanais Stones, or Callanish Standing Stones, if you will. I would hazard to guess this is where the incubus in Alec’s bloodline is from also.” Jodis put Jorge on his feet and the boy beamed a smile that told Cronin he was right. Though he knew he was. He felt it in his bones.

The Callanish Stones stuck out of the earth like broken teeth. Glorious and ancient, Scotland’s very own Stonehenge. A standing circle of fifteen stones, ancient,
so ancient
. Their meaning, their purpose, had been speculated about for thousands of years. And now Cronin knew. This is what they were for.

In the center of the circle was a shallow pit, dug into the earth thousands of years ago and Cronin lay Alec in it.

“Cronin,” Jodis hissed. “Cronin!”

He looked up to find little Jorge standing with his arms out, his eyes pure black standing in the middle of the circle. But he was smiling, like a light was shining from his very being, beautiful and peaceful.

“Cronin,” his voices said in unison. “Only you can do this.”

Cronin could see into his mind, but it wasn’t Jorge talking. It was a woman. She was in her twenties, with brown hair and green eyes. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I am Ailig’s mother,” the woman said. Her voice, coming from Jorge was like music, lyrical bells. “You must save him.”

“Tell me how!” Cronin begged. “I cannot change him!” He looked to the east, where the sun was threatening to rise. “I am almost out of time.”

“Stone, blood, metal, fire, and water, along with the moon and the sun,” his mother answered, motioning toward the stone plate on Alec’s chest. It was covered in mercury, fire, water, and the most important element of all, Alec’s blood. “The elements of life will save him.”

Cronin was out of patience; fear and anger surged in the form of tears. “How?”

“You have been designed for this,” Jorge answered. “You can displace atoms by quantum physics, can you not?”

Cronin nodded. “I’m a leaper.”

“And with his blood in your veins, you can transfer the powers of others, yes?”

Cronin scrubbed at his face. “Yes, but I don’t really know how.”

Alec’s mother smiled in Jorge’s mind. The little boy swayed. “The stones hold the powers of life, they will do the work. You need to channel it, transfer it,
leap
it into him. This has been a thousand years in the making. On this blue moon; every thing is aligned. This is what you were designed for, Cronin.”

Cronin looked up at the small child vampire, and then at the faces of his friends. “Tell me what I have to do.”

“As the sun breaks and the moon is still in the sky, you will feel the power from the stones.”

Cronin nodded quickly. “Okay.”

Then Jorge said, “You will need to kill him first.”

Cronin stared at him. “What?”

“You cannot change what is already changed, Cronin.”

“What do you mean?” Jodis demanded of the boy. “Please, we are running out of time!”

“Vampire blood already runs in his veins, that is why he could not be changed,” Alec’s mother’s voice said serenely. “You must kill the vampire in him so the human can live. One breath only, Cronin. Then bite him.”

Cronin was about to object—he couldn’t do this, he could never kill any part of Alec—but a tremendous hum came from the earth like it reverberated within him, and his hands began to shake.

“It is starting,” Jorge said. A look of sorrow and worry crossed Alec’s mothers beautiful features. “You must do this. The key must be changed today.”

Cronin looked at his friends and lastly at Eiji and Jodis. “You must go. You can’t be here when the sun rises.”

Jodis took Eiji’s hand. “We’re not leaving you,” she whispered. “Or Alec.”

“We shall stay also,” Kennard said. He gave a weak, scared smile. “Can’t let a bloody Scot think I’m a coward, can I?”

The hum got louder and stronger, and Cronin sat in the earthen pit with Alec laying across him, the Chinese stone plate with the five elements on it lay on Alec’s chest. Cronin kissed Alec’s lips, as a tear ran from the corner of his eye to his temple. His breaths were so faint now, so rasped and grating. He was hot to the touch, burning, sweating, and his hazel eyes were glassy. He looked about to die.

Eiji and Jodis were suddenly in the pit with Cronin, on the other side of Alec, both whispering words of love and pleading.

“Stay with us, Alec.”

“Hold on, sweet Alec.”

Eiji held a wooden stake. “You shouldn’t have to be the one to do this.”

Cronin shook his head and breathed through the pain. The hum in his chest was almost unbearable. “It should only be me.” He took the wooden stake, and he looked to Jodis and Eiji. “If this doesn’t work and he lives no more, promise me you will do the same to me.”

The sun sent rays of yellow upward toward the moon. “Now, Cronin,” Alec’s mother urged through Jorge. She pleaded. “Now!”

Cronin kissed Alec once more and whispered, “For forever, my love.” And he drove a wooden stake into his heart.

Alec lurched forward, arching his back. His eyes wide, his mouth opened in a silent scream. He reached blindly, finding Cronin’s face, twitching and convulsing before he sucked back a deep breath.

And this was it.

One breath only.

Cronin held him like a prayer in his hands and sunk his teeth into his neck. Alec touched Cronin’s face and gripped his hair as Cronin drank his blood. The warmth, the pure taste of energy and life itself ran down his throat. And the hum that echoed in his chest now shook his very core. Cronin closed his eyes and let his head fall back, blood ran from the corners of his mouth, but he didn’t care. He focused on every atom, every molecule of energy, and sent it with every ounce of strength he had into Alec.

Alec convulsed in his arms again, this time his chest pushed forward, heaving, and Cronin could feel the hum vibrating through Alec.

Light, not sunlight, not moonlight, but a white light gathered from the Callanish Stones around them, connecting and growing until it had gone full circle and it spun to the center, to Alec. The light went through him, it came out of him, it roared and surged, and it took all of Cronin’s vampire strength to hold him. The energy was almost supernova, the light blinding and pure.

And then it was gone.

In its place was shock and silence. No one breathed. No one blinked.

Cronin didn’t dare to even hope.

Then Alec convulsed and sucked back an enormous breath, and Jorge jumped up and down, clapping his hands. His eyes were back to normal, the visions of Alec’s mother were gone from his mind. Cronin saw nothing but the beautiful man in his arms.

Then, with what was like the voice of god to Cronin, Alec screamed.

* * * *

With barely seconds to spare, Cronin leapt everyone back to Japan. They arrived back at the house in a burst of action. Everyone backed away, still wide-eyed and in shock at what they’d just witnessed. Cronin cradled Alec like a child as he moaned and writhed in pain. He gently put him on the floor and touched his face, his chest, his hair. He took his hand. “You are not alone, m’cridhe. My heart, my everything. Alec, I am right here.”

“What’s happening?” Kole asked, standing pale and scared near the door. He was staring at the dark blood stain on Alec’s chest. “Someone tell me what’s going on with him!”

“It’s the transformation,” Eiji answered. “He’s becoming a vampire.”

Kole put his hand to his mouth and nodded as the first of his tears fell. It took him a long time to speak. “Will he be okay?”

Still holding Alec’s hand, Cronin put his other hand to the side of Alec’s face. “He will be.”

Jodis put her icy hands on Alec to cool him down, Cronin realized, and Alec relaxed a little. He gripped Cronin’s hand, his fingers like claws, and his teeth were clenched.

Then Jorge knelt at Alec’s feet. His voice was Jorge’s, but Cronin knew the words were of Alec’s mother. And it all made sense to him now: Jorge didn’t have multiple personalities. He spoke with the dead. He spoke for the dead, and like now, they spoke through him. “He bears a power never seen before in our kind, as he was destined to. Not one power, but
all
powers. Unequalled and unimaginable, but he is fair and just, and he will protect and serve. Fate has chosen well.”

Jorge spoke directly to Cronin. “But such powers do not come without perils. There will always be those who seek to control or conquer him, and it will be a great responsibility to protect him, but protect him you will.”

Cronin nodded. “Of course.”

Jorge put his little hand on Alec’s leg. “Alec, you have the power to heal. Can you feel it?”

Alec arched his back and his hands were tight fists, despite holding Cronin’s hand. Cronin could feel the change of strength in him. The power he gripped his hand with was not human. But if he had the power to heal, as his mother suggested through Jorge, then he didn’t have to suffer through the transformation. “Find the power to heal and embrace it, Alec,” Cronin whispered. “Please.”

With a strangled cry of exertion, Alec pushed through whatever boundaries he fought against. The wound on his chest healed over, his veins protruded under his skin, his eyes went wide, and with a final cry, he slumped heavily back to the floor. He was quiet for what felt like forever; his hands were no longer clenched, his heart rate was completely normal, and the silence was deafening. Then Alec laughed. “Well, shit. That was an easier way to do it, and probably something I could have been told half an hour ago.”

Eiji burst out laughing, as did Jodis, who covered her mouth with her hands as tears spilled down her cheeks. Cronin couldn’t help it. He laughed, and tears of joy and relief sprung to his eyes, and he made the first mistake of throwing his arms around Alec.

Alec didn’t mean to throw Cronin. He didn’t mean to pounce after him, and he didn’t mean to stand up and pull Cronin to his feet by his shirt. His whole perception of strength and distance and physical restrictions were not what they used to be.

Nothing was as it used to be.

The world was clearer, with a complete new spectrum of colors, and his vision was in permanent panoramic view. He heard everything—everything—and tasted it all on his tongue. His brain catalogued what everything was in less than a nanosecond, and his mind—oh, his mind—was an open universe.

He looked at Eiji and Jodis, who were both grinning from ear to ear, then at Jacques and Kennard, Lars and the other English vampires—he knew who they were now, Leonard, Omar, and Kylie. He didn’t know how he knew, he just knew—and little Jorge who grinned fantastically. Eleanor and his dad were there,
oh Dad
, but there was Cronin….

Cronin.

He was smiling, looking at his ripped shirt, brushing it down, where Alec had grabbed him a second ago. Was that just a second ago?

Cronin. His perfect skin and rusty ginger-colored hair looked even better through these new eyes. His scent, his magnetic pull was so much better, and Alec couldn’t restrain himself. He took Cronin’s face in both hands and kissed him.

Eiji laughed. “He hasn’t changed one bit.”

Cronin squirmed, pulling Alec’s hands from his face with a laugh. “Ah, not so strong.”

Alec put his hands to Cronin’s face as gently as he could and kissed him again. “Sorry. Everything is so….”

“Different?”

“Better.” He looked around the room again and saw his dad. His very human father. His father with a beating heart and blood in his veins. Yet, in his mind, he compartmentalized the difference between food source and family. He walked, which by the surprise on his dad’s face and how his hair blew back in the breeze, Alec assumed he walked a little too fast. He very slowly, very carefully, put his arms around him. “Dad.”

Kole started to cry. “Oh, Alec. I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

Then little Jorge stood beside them, and in a woman’s voice, said, “Kole?”

Then everything happened very quickly. Kole stumbled backwards as Alec spun around and ripped out a growl that was so loud and threatening, he frightened himself. But he had to protect his father at all costs, and he bared his fangs—Jesus, he had fangs—and he threw out his hands, sending snaps of electricity and fire and rage from his fingers.

Jorge put his hands up and the woman’s voice murmured, “Be calm.”

And Alec felt calm, but it wasn’t until Cronin was in front of him with their foreheads pressed together that he breathed deep enough to center himself. “You’re okay, your father’s okay, Alec.”