Always a Wanderer Read online

  “What does he have planned? Do you know?” He was so angry at everything. His stepfather. Giorgio. The world. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were working with my stepfather?”

  Giorgio shook his head. “I wasn’t working with him. I was doing my job. And sometimes my job requires discretion. I didn’t know until he brought me here exactly what he was up to. I thought he was merely working out some kind of business dealing. I swear, if I’d had a clue he was working with the HG and responsible for Seamus’s death, I would have informed you.”

  Graham believed him. “Everyone has made mistakes here.”

  Giorgio looked down at the tape around Graham’s ankles. “I’m sorry, boss.”

  “You can’t possibly be as sorry as I am. I should never have left Helena in there. We have to go back in and get her.”

  Giorgio glanced at his watch. “Hopefully she’s still in there.”

  “Do you know anything about what they were planning?” Graham asked, as Giorgio pulled off the rest of the tape and he stood up from the blasted chair.

  Giorgio shook his head. “There were careful when they were talking around me.”

  They made their way around the side of the building. Mr. Shane stood in front of the crowd, giving his obligatory speech to the patients and their families. He touted the virtues of such a place and all the things that it had to offer.

  As Mr. Shane spotted them, he motioned Graham over.

  Everything rested on this moment. His stepfather cared about nothing more than the manor and the money behind it. Everyone who had come together to raise funds and get this hospital off the ground was sitting there, watching the man who—behind their backs—was supporting a group that wanted to kill the people they were trying to help.

  “None of this would have been possible without the heavy lifting done by my stepson, Graham Kelly,” Mr. Shane said, motioning him toward the podium. “Let’s all give him a round of applause. His unwavering support for this hospital and the folks who work and are treated here has made this place what it is today.”

  The men and women in the crowd rose to their feet as Graham slowly made his way to the front of the pavilion.

  He could expose his stepfather for exactly what he was, but what would it accomplish? If he told people what Mr. Shane was, it would be the end of their dream—the hospital and everything it stood for would be destroyed.

  He and Helena had worked so hard for this. He couldn’t let her down.

  He couldn’t let her stay in Benjamin Poole’s grasp.

  He turned his back on Mr. Shane and the adoring crowd. He didn’t need accolades or applause to do what was right.

  He sprinted toward the front doors of the hospital, Giorgio at his side.

  “Graham,” Mr. Shane said, his stern voice reverberating through the sound system and silencing the applause. “Don’t go in there. Don’t. Giorgio!”

  Giorgio stopped for a moment. Then in one fluid motion, he raised his hand and flipped Mr. Shane the bird. There was a collective gasp from the audience, but Giorgio quickly turned away and followed Graham inside the hospital.

  “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Giorgio said with a cynical laugh. “I guess I’m going to need to get my résumé ready.”

  Graham shook his head as he moved quickly down the empty hallway. “No. You’re fine. After this is all over, I am going to get him out. Mr. Shane has no right to run this place or the manor. My mother owns half. If I can get her to see the light about her husband, maybe I can gain control.”

  “Mr. Shane is never going to go for that.”

  “I don’t give a shite what he thinks. He’s going to pay for what he’s done.”

  They stopped at the door that led to the break room.

  “Are you really sure you want to take this beast on?” Giorgio asked.

  Graham wasn’t sure which beast Giorgio was talking about, but it didn’t matter. He was going to take down anything and anyone that stood in the way of what and who he wanted—no matter what.

  He opened the door. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw.

  Standing in the center of the room, beside the long meeting table, was Helena. She was covered in a fine layer of gray soot. The chair nearest her looked as though it had melted, and it drooped toward her, its armrests globs of oozing black plastic that reached toward the floor like fingers.

  A black scorch mark marred the floor at her feet, and as she stepped toward them, he saw that the ground beneath her was still a perfect white. Almost as though everything around her had been licked with flames, yet she had been left unscathed. Nothing, from her clothing to her soot-covered hair, was tarnished by fire.

  Yet in her hands was a blackened skull. On the floor, just to the left of her feet, was a pile of ash. At its center were the curled fingers of a hand. Blue flames rippled over the cracked and overcooked flesh, and Graham could make out white bone where the skin had split.

  “Is that...Poole?” he asked, the words coming from him in a whisper.

  Helena looked at him and her mouth opened, but nothing came out. Instead she dropped her hands, and the skull she had been holding hit the floor with a dull clatter and rolled to a stop by her feet.

  A single tear slipped down her cheek, taking with it the ashes of the man who had once been alive.

  “I...I...” she stammered.

  “It’s fine,” Graham said, rushing toward her and pulling her into his arms. “It’s fine. You’re okay.”

  “He tried to...”

  Graham’s gut roiled as he finished her sentence in his mind. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. He’s gone now. You...” He stopped. “How did you do this?”

  “You need to get out of here. I told you not to act a hero. I told you,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “You’re not safe. No one’s safe. The bomb. There’s still a bomb.”

  “Did he tell you where it was?” Giorgio asked.

  She shook her head, her eyes unblinking. “He only said that it was in plain sight. That we were lookin’ too hard.”

  Graham pulled her tighter against his chest and ran his hand over her hair. As his fingers moved through her long hair, he wondered who exactly he was trying to comfort more. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She shook her head and said nothing, simply letting him touch her.

  He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, my love; you’re safe. Let’s just get you out of here. We can send in a team of guards to investigate. We won’t let anyone else in until we’ve covered every inch of the place.”

  “Aye, miss.” Giorgio opened the door and motioned for them to go. “You need to remain safe.”

  “What about Angel and the lads?” she asked. “If the HG finds out what happened to Poole, they could be in danger. We can’t have them anywhere they can get to them.”

  Giorgio frowned. “I’ve been in contact with them. They’re fine; they’re at the abbey for now. No one needs to know what happened to Poole—no one will know what happened to him. I’ll clean up the mess. Neill’s grave is still fresh. I can reallocate some things.” He led them out of the room and into the deserted hallway.

  “They’ll know he’s missin’. I’m the last person he was with,” Helena said, her voice echoing in the still hall. “It won’t take them long to pin his death on me.”

  “They can’t pin a death on anyone if they don’t know it happened. You just can’t admit anything. Act as though you know nothing. In fact, the only person we’ll have to worry about is Mr. Shane.” Giorgio instinctively glanced toward the front of the hospital, where Mr. Shane was likely still talking to the throngs of people. “You need to go out the back. Make sure no one sees you. Go back to the manor. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.” Giorgio moved toward the front and the pavilions where the guests were seated.

  Graham took Helena’s hand and led her toward the back exit.

  “Giorgio and his crew will take care of the bomb. Everything’ll be okay. I promis
e.”

  She gazed up at him, but her eyes were dark with fear. “Something feels wrong. What if the bomb isn’t here, Graham?”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find it.” He tried to ignore the terror that crept through him as he opened the back door and led her outside, into the safety of the open air.

  “I dunno, Graham. I just feel somethin’ is wrong.”

  “What’s going on with you?” he asked, thinking of the burned Mr. Poole and the scorch marks around her feet. “With your gifts?”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide with panic. “I don’t know. It’s like a light switch has been turned on inside me. Everythin’ feels different. Like somethin’ opened in me, and now I can tap into more. I don’t know how to explain it.”

  This had to be because of the spell from the Codex, but what exactly had it done to her?

  She looked just as she had before her debilitating vision and the spell. If anything, she almost appeared brighter, and the lines around her eyes had faded.

  “Are you okay, Helena?”

  She glanced down at her hands, opening and closing them as they moved farther from the hospital and closer to the river that would lead them back to the manor. The River Maigue lapped against its banks as it slipped past them, gurgling and splashing on its way toward the sea.

  “You know what?” Helena looked in the direction of the sound and smiled. “I haven’t felt this good in a long time. It’s like...I dunno. I guess it’s like I feel complete. Like a piece of me was missin’ and now...now I can do anythin’.”

  “Can you do anything?” The strange, foreboding feeling returned.

  She flexed her hands, stretched her arms over her head, and took in a deep breath. “I don’t know. But it feels so good.”

  She’d always been sexy, but now, with her newfound confidence, he couldn’t pull his gaze from her.

  She knelt at the bank of the river and dipped her fingers into the green water. She motioned him to her side, and he did as she asked. The water was cold, and it numbed his fingers.

  Closing her eyes, she whispered something under her breath. There was a buzzing feeling in the water, and a strange sensation moved up his fingertips and into his arms. It felt like vibrations of music he couldn’t hear.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m callin’ on the earth,” she said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Look.” She motioned toward the water with her chin as she smiled.

  There, looking up from the water, was a school of salmon. They were all pointed toward her, as if she were their master and they were waiting for her command.

  He jerked his hands from the water as a fish bumped against his finger. “What in the bloody hell,” he said in a frightened whisper.

  She pulled her hands from the river. The fish turned in the water, making ripples as they disappeared back into its depths. “It’s fine. Ya don’t have to be afraid of me. It’s okay.”

  She sounded like she was truly convinced what she was saying was true, but he couldn’t find any comfort in her words. Earlier in the day, she hadn’t even been able to control her visions, and now, suddenly, she was like a god.

  “You can control animals. Can you control people, too?” He stood up and moved away from her.

  She stepped after him and took his hands in hers. “Graham, no one can control people. Not even the gods.”

  “Is that what you are? A god?”

  She laced her fingers through his and pulled his hands to her chest. Her heart thumped hard, mimicking his.

  “I’m not a god, Graham. And I don’t know what happened, but I’ve really never felt better.” She leaned down and kissed his knuckles. “Ya all gave me a tremendous gift.”

  Her kiss reminded him of the woman he knew, and some of his fear and apprehension fell away. She was still in there. She hadn’t changed completely. She was still Helena.

  “I mean, I’m afraid, too...I don’t know what this is gonna mean—these new gifts. I don’t even know how I’m doin’ it. With Mr. Poole, it was just like the earth knew what I needed. It showed me the way. But only time will tell what I’m capable of.”

  He nodded as she squeezed his hands.

  “What I do know, Graham, is that I need you. For the first time in my life, I feel not just free, but completely empowered. I can do anything. We can do anything. With these powers...we can take down the HG.” Her eyes gleamed. “We can kill them all.”

  His fear returned. Had the Codex’s dark magic changed her? She’d never been the kind to want to kill.

  “Helena, the HG are disgusting, and they need to be stopped, but if we kill without discretion, then we’re no better than they are.”

  “Aye, you’re right.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I was thinkin’. There’s nothing to gain by killin’ them like flies. There has to be a better way.” She pulled his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I’m just so confused. I feel a bit legless.”

  He pushed his nose into her hair and breathed in her scent. Her normal, floral aroma was mixed with smoke and the hospital’s antiseptic smell. Underneath it all, though, was the power-imbued scent of her.

  She looked up into his eyes. “No matter what happens, Graham, I’ll never change. I promise. I’ll never be anyone but yours. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Helena.”

  She took his lips and ran her tongue over his bottom lip.

  It wasn’t like the kiss they had shared months ago; this was the kiss of a powerful woman—a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. His heart hurt from the intensity of his desire.

  Her tongue stroked his, flicking against it and showing him exactly how badly she wanted him. She moaned as his mouth moved against hers, and he swallowed the sound.

  He leaned back, breaking their kiss. “I—”

  The explosion ripped through the air.

  The percussive blast made them drop to the ground.

  He moved toward her, covering her with his body as a piece of sod landed on the grass near them. He took her hand and shielded her as they let the world rain down.

  Chapter Nineteen

  THE GROUND WAS DAMP, and as she got up, Helena had to pick bits of wet grass from her dress. Graham was sitting with his knees hugged loosely to his chest. He stared at the ground, dazed.

  He looked up at her and frowned. “Why are you smiling?”

  She reached up and touched her face. Her lips were pulled up and her cheeks were tight. Why was she smiling? She pushed at her face, trying to make the expression disappear, but her body resisted.

  What the feck was going on? Why did her body suddenly feel like it belonged to someone else?

  She closed her eyes and there was a joy in her heart, a joy she hadn’t felt since Da had been alive. As she thought of him, warmth spread through her. Opening her eyes, she half expected to see Da standing in front of her. He felt so close and so real that she had to remind herself he was gone.

  Helena reached down to help Graham stand. He slipped his hand into hers, and where they touched, her skin buzzed with energy. His mouth opened and he stared at their hands.

  “What...”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know how or why, but I think Da is here and he approves.” She squeezed his hand, and the buzz intensified.

  Graham smiled, but behind it was a look of slight disbelief. Instead of saying anything, though, he followed as she moved toward the manor.

  With the silence between them, she noticed the ringing in her ears, no doubt from the percussion of the bomb. Hopefully everyone was okay. As concern worked its way through her, it was dulled by the warmth she attributed to Da.

  She glanced back at Graham. His gaze moved over the debris that littered the ground, the bits of torn white canopy, and the metal scraps from the pavilions.

  With this much shrapnel, there had to be many injured. Yet in the detritus that littered the ground, she saw no signs of human casualties. There were no wayward shoes or broken eyeglass
es. There was nothing directly tied to a person, only the place.

  In front of the manor, groups of people were scattered throughout the salvia gardens. The flowers’ red heads had faded with the fall, but a few still stood strong, as red as smatterings of blood throughout the grounds.

  “Helena!” Giorgio yelled, running toward them from the crowd nearest the fountain of a Hellenistic-style woman. “Are you both okay?” His face was covered with dust and was only clean where rivulets of sweat had cleared away the dirt.

  “You’re the one who looks the worse for wear. How many were hurt?” Graham asked, motioning toward the surprisingly subdued crowds.

  Giorgio shook his head. “So far...there’s only one.”

  Helena glanced around, expecting to see someone on the ground, but there was no one. “Who?”

  Giorgio gave Graham a nervous glance. “Your stepfather. He...” Giorgio paused.

  “John did what?” Graham said, anger pulsing through his words.

  “He...he had a bomb in his jacket.”

  “What?”

  Giorgio nodded, his face grim. “I don’t think he knew it was there. He was speaking...and it just went off. Luckily the bomb was on the chair behind him—he wasn’t wearing it—and no one besides him was close enough to be seriously hurt.”

  Benjamin had said the bomb was hidden in plain sight. The thought made chills run down Helena’s spine. What if Graham had been standing with his stepfather?

  “Where is he?” Graham asked.

  Giorgio motioned toward the front of the hospital, where there was a bloody handprint on the door.

  “Is he going to make it?” Helena asked.

  Giorgio shrugged. “I didn’t see how bad the damage was, but clearly the HG thought he would be the best weapon. If he had been standing in the middle of the crowd with the jacket on, I’m sure the damage would have been far worse.”

  Graham sighed. “We got lucky on this one.”

  “This one?” Helena tried to keep her emotions in check.

  He turned to her and squeezed her hand. “You don’t think that—even with what happened in there with Poole—the HG are going to stop?”